A Fragment of Substance
by Lalaithe
Summary: One quiet spring morning a Beregost potion-seller receives some odd company. Can Anna aid two half-elven Harpers, a freckled thief and a handsome warrior in discovering the cause of the iron crisis?
1. Spring and Roses

Welcome! This is an AU version of Baldur's Gate told from the viewpoint of a Beregost mage named Anna, who's persuaded by an unusual group of adventurers to help investigate the iron crisis that's plagued the Sword Coast. It does have a strong 'T' rating for occasional graphic violence, language and general adult themes. I've included Elvish translations at the end of chapters but if the meaning seems workable from the context I won't put in a translation.

Please feel free to leave any comments or a review; I always love feedback and it really helps to know what people think!

Credits: All Bioware characters are copyright Bioware e_t al. _Anna and Finn are copyright the author.

Characters inspired by their wonderful Shadows of Amn mods:  
Kivan, by Domi at the Gibberlings Three.  
Xan, by Kulyok at Pocket Plane Group.

Elvish language references are from The Grey Company.  
The poem quote Anna reads in the Nashkel Fair is from William Blake, _Jerusalem._

~A Fragment of Substance~

"Damn."

The woman put her pricked finger in her mouth and tasted copper from the wound. Glancing at the offending rosebush a slight smile spread over her face though as she contemplated both her unlady-like oath and her decision to work around the roses without gloves. The lure of fresh earth on her hands was difficult to resist on that fine morning. Nursing her finger she leaned back, and for awhile she felt a part of the birdsong and the warm sun moving in and out between the lazy white clouds. She looked out over the small vegetable and herb gardens in their first flush of varied greens, the young plants reaching skyward. The little plants grew well and already she thought of summer and the chance to walk amongst the rows, filling her basket with good things.

She turned back to her task with the lesson of caution still stinging her fingertip but soon heard the faint tinkle of the doorbell through the cottage's open windows. The woman wasn't overly social but visitors were fairly regular; she made elixirs of both the magical and mundane variety and though a local merchant sold most of what she crafted townsfolk and even the odd adventurer would find their way to her door, looking for something to cure their ills.

Sure enough, Maya's substantial figure appeared at the back door and set businesslike down the slope to the garden.

"Mistress Anna," the woman began, "There's some folk here that's asking after you."

The look on her face gave the impression that she didn't much care for the folk who had the impudence to interrupt her labours.

"Are they looking for potions?" Anna asked, wiping her brow.

"Couldn't say for certain, miss. They look like adventurin' folks, all kitted up in armour as ye please. A sorry-looking lot they are, too. I was of half a mind to leave them on the step but I showed 'em into the sitting room anyway," she puffed. "I'd count the spoons before I let 'em out of my sight."

Anna looked down at her basket to hide her smile. Maya's views on anyone who came from outside Beregost were generally less than charitable, and though the housekeeper was the salt of the earth Anna knew better than to take her opinion at face value.

"Never mind, Maya, I'll see to them now."

She rose up, stretched her back and brushed some stray dirt from the kirtle she wore gardening. Hurrying into the house she washed and glanced in a mirror. She wiped a smudge away from one green eye and a few stray wisps of dark blonde hair were swept back into something resembling order but she didn't bother to do up her long braid. The spring wind pinked her cheeks and she turned from the glass thinking she looked more like a country maid than a mage, though the idea didn't necessarily displease her.

...

Stepping into the sitting room Anna thought that this time at least Maya managed a fair assessment of her company. A man and woman, of mixed elvish and human blood by their looks stood side by side by the stone fireplace, like odd fire dogs. The fair man noticeably shifted position when Anna entered and looked at the floor. The darker-complexioned woman however regarded Anna with a cool, level look which made her think that had a wolfwere entered the room in her place the woman would not have flinched in the slightest. In a chair a girl with reddish hair and a light spattering of freckles busily rearranged the chess pieces that stood on a table next to her. She looked up at Anna with an innocent expression that made her think perhaps she should count the spoons before they departed, after all.

She felt a twinge of irritation though seeing a tall young man casually examining her precious bookshelf, but when he turned Anna paused on the carpet. She'd been expecting the usual road-weary adventurers and having the unexpectedly handsome man standing there, gazing at her somehow made the heat rise to her cheeks. The wind had ruffled his dark hair and something in his light eyes told of a rather boyish impishness. Anna wasn't the fawning sort but she found herself taken aback by her sudden awareness of the man. Fortunately she was saved from further embarrassment when the half-elven woman spoke.

"Are you the lady of the house?"

Her enquiry was warranted, Anna thought as she stood in her coarse dress and windblown appearance.

"Yes, I am."

"A good morning to you, Mistress Whitehaven," the woman continued in a serious voice. "My companions and I have been told that you could supply us with certain magical items that we could not obtain in town."

As she spoke Anna noticed with surprise the small, unusual gold pins that she and the half-elven man wore. She knew of the Harpers but she hadn't ever expected to find any in her sitting room.

"I see," she said slowly. "Please, sit down and tell me what it is you wish from me."

The half-elven man made a motion to sit but stopped when the woman said, "Thank you, but I shall stand." The tall man however moved casually into a chair and kept looking at Anna.

"May I ask whom I have the pleasure of addressing?" Anna said as Maya entered with spiced cakes and a pitcher of watered wine. She set the tray on the sideboard and departed with a curt glance at her mistress' company.

"I'm Finn," the tall man said, still looking at her.

"My name's Imoen," the girl chirped. "We're from Can—" she broke off when the woman cleared her throat. "Well, we were…" she said quietly.

"Very well. I am Jaheira," the woman said with a sigh, "and this is my husband, Khalid."

"H-hello," the half-elven man stuttered at the floor. It was the first she heard him speak.

"We are looking to purchase enchanted weapons," Jaheira continued. "You know of the current difficulty with iron in this region; normal steel is apt to corrode into nothing. Khalid and I possess magical weapons but my companions are not so fortunate."

"Yeah," Imoen said, reaching for the cake and a goblet of wine. "My sword turned into a pile of dust in my hand. A pile of dung is more like, how can all the iron on the Sword Coast be turning to dust? It doesn't make any sense!"

"It's a definite mystery," said Finn, his attention diverted from Anna and towards the wine.

"The iron crisis is affecting us all," Anna said, "though I'm afraid you've been misinformed. I sell potions and herbs, not weapons. Have you been to the smith in town? He trades some fine quality weaponry that would be of use to you."

"_Er_, yes, we have been to his smithy. But enchanted weapons cost dearly even without this crisis driving up the demand," Jaheira concluded grimly. "And it is of great importance that my companions have arms they can rely on."

"Doubtless," Anna replied. "But I have no weapons for sale."

She wondered what made the Harpers think she traded in arms, let alone cut-price ones. But then the iron crisis was driving strange tales around, little surprise some might surround a town mage. Taking a sip from her pewter goblet she choked a little at how much Maya had diluted the wine. Knowing the housekeeper Anna needed no more evidence of her dislike for her guests.

"None?" Finn spoke up. He smiled at her and she glanced at the floor. "Like Jaheira said, it's really important. Not just to us. We're looking into the cause of this problem. If we could put a stop to it, it would help this entire region. But we can't do it if we can't rely on our own equipment."

Jaheira made an exasperated sound. "As Finn says. You seem...trustworthy, and I suppose there is little point hiding our mission here." Her tone implied doubt. "We have been commissioned by the Mayor of Nashkel to investigate the trouble at the mine. This crisis has hit the village hard however, and he cannot give us much support until it is resolved. Any help you could provide would be appreciated."

"Y-you've heard the rumours," Khalid said suddenly. "People s-seem to think that Amn is behind all this. Or the Zhentarim, even. Th-there's talk of war. W-we need to stop this, if we can." His eyes shone bright and despite his nervousness he seemed serious as Jaheira.

"Can you help us, please?" said Imoen between mouthfuls of her second cake.

"Well…"

"_Please,"_ Finn said.

Anna hesitated, surprised again by their mission and their obvious awareness that she had weapons in the house. Many people did though, why should they come to her? She thought for a moment that the odd group might be clever thieves, weaving an elaborate story to walk away with some valuable prizes. But looking into the Harpers' serious eyes she felt not. Slowly she let out a sigh.

"I said I didn't have any weapons for sale, and that's true. But I do have some that belonged to my father, to his family. I have no real use for them though. I suppose…I suppose I could let you take them, for this cause."

"Hurrah!" Finn exclaimed. "I knew you looked like the helpful type."

"I thank you," said Jaheira. "But we did not come here looking for charity. We will pay you what we can, and if at all possible we will return them to you."

"Yeah," Finn said. "But I have another idea. Why don't you come with us?"

"Come with you?" Anna repeated.

"We could use a mage in our group, and you seem like you have talents," he said, looking like he was trying hard to swallow a grin.

"Hasn't it occurred to you, Finn, that this an extremely dangerous mission?" Jaheira scowled. "We have no idea what may await us in the mines. And there are other problems, as you painfully know. Mage though she may be, this lady may not have any experience or desire to take up adventuring. Besides, you are not unskilled in the arcane art yourself."

"All true. But my magic's gotten rusty since I took up the sword, and you know I don't even have a spellbook. We could use someone in back casting a few spells, and I think our Mistress Whitehaven here looks fit enough to be in our little travelling group."

He gave her a little smile and Jaheira's lip curled but she seemed to soften slightly.

"Very well. If you wish that Mistress Whitehaven accompany us, then I will not object. I do hope you realise how dangerous this will be, however," she said, turning to Anna and fixing her with an iron glare.

Anna suddenly stood. "I beg your pardon, but Mistress Whitehaven has not said she would do anything one way or another. You are presuming a great deal of me," she stammered.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Finn said. "I didn't think. You've probably got a family or something, right?"

"Well, no..."

"It was not our intention to be rude," Jaheira said quickly, perhaps worried they'd lose the deal. "My companion has the habit of putting action before thought." Finn threw her a look and she glared back. "However...he is correct that a mage would be a help to our mission, if you should decide to join us. But we expect nothing of you, of course."

Anna sighed again. "Perhaps, but you came here with one expectation, at least. Please...follow me."

....

She led the group upstairs to the room where a locker held some things of her father's. Her mind felt foggy. She showed them the gear automatically and seemed to pay little heed that a group of strangers was admiring her family's heirlooms. Finn chose the fine hand-and-a-half sword, and Imoen took up a long dagger. After some discussion of cost she accepted a bag of gold from Jaheira.

"So," Finn said, fixing the sword to his belt. "Will you join us?"

"I…haven't decided. This is all rather sudden."

"Sorry we couldn't make an appointment," he replied, a bit grimly. "Some of us weren't expecting to be here ourselves."

"I suppose…" Anna faltered.

"Well, we're staying in town tonight, at the Jovial Juggler. If you want to go join us in the morning. Otherwise, maybe we'll see you around. Or not."

Finn made a quick bow and departed down the stairs, leaving Anna feeling flushed again. Jaheira let out a breath.

"He has some weight on his mind," she attempted to explain, though Anna had a feeling she was speaking more to herself. "I feel I must repeat that our mission could be deadly, but the choice is now yours."

She bade Anna a polite farewell, leaving the impression that Jaheira at least had decided what that choice should be.

...

After the party left Anna wandered into the sitting room, pacing while thinking the matter over. It surprised her that she even considered it. Had life in Beregost really become so slow that she was willing to join a group of strangers on a deadly mission? She noticed with surprise too that the cakes were all gone, but fortunately the silver was all accounted for.

Anna sighed and looked around the much-loved room. Sunlight flowed in from the southern window, making diamond-shaped patterns on the floor and glinting off the gilded titles on the bookcases. She leaned against the mantle and thoughtfully brushed the golden ship-shaped clock with a finger. It struck the half-hour with a fairy chime and for a moment the automaton sailors whirled about on their business.

Her bookish father had a few adventures in his time, she gathered, why should she be different? But she wasn't some impulsive youth to be lured by the romance of 'adventures', she was a grown woman and ought to have more sense. Plenty of adventurers darkened her door and she hadn't run off with any of them. In truth, though, none had asked. And what would Maya say? The idea of being pricked by the housekeeper's stony logic almost disturbed her more than the thought of facing nameless monsters in some unholy dungeon. Though Anna was mistress there was something in the good matron that had a remarkable ability to turn her into a naughty child who'd been into the jam.

Quietly Anna slipped up the stairs to her workroom, hearing the faint sounds of Maya's routine in the kitchen. Despite the low ceilings the room was spacious and light from the large dormer windows she'd put in years ago. Another reason she couldn't go: Tom Wentway. The frosty Beregost merchant wouldn't be pleased that his alchemist decided to take a holiday. Still, trade was slow on account of the troubles, and she'd sent over some stock just the other day…

She glanced at the cauldron hanging in the fireplace and her thoughts turned to the iron crisis. This bizarre plague of metal was having a terrible effect throughout the region. Last year the first rumours began to drift into taverns and over clothes-lines, of iron that crumbled to dust at a touch. At first it was only new steel, the Nashkel Iron Mine the source. Then it started happening in town, to new metal and old. Guards' swords disintegrated, kettles turned to rust overnight, harnesses falling apart. Anna examined some of the contaminated remains to no result except that some of her iron utensils rusted over a few days later. Iron was now nearly precious as gold and bandits had taken to robbing people for the metal. Their attacks and the plague drove trade along the coast to a near standstill.

People were frightened. Some said it was a punishment from the gods, others an Amnish plot to conquer the coast. Lack of trade meant that supplies were running low, and with farmers' plowshares rusting in the ground the threat of famine was creeping into even prosperous little Beregost. Her own tools had held up so far but a nagging fear told her it was only a matter of time. Surely she had some duty to help, if such a thing was possible. But what could that little group do where others had failed? The idea seemed ridiculous. She sighed and gathered up her dark green mage's robe that she'd tossed over the back of a chair. She steeled herself, and crept lightly into the kitchen.

....

Next morning the rising sun found Anna walking swiftly down the lane to Beregost. Her quarterstaff made a tapping sound as it hit the rocks in the road and she awkwardly shifted her pack from side to side, Jaheira's bag of gold jingling slightly within. No need to keep it if she was accompanying the heirlooms. Looking at the beautiful golden morning she still wondered if this was a fool's errand, but her feet kept moving towards the town. Distractedly she fingered her amulet with her free hand as she did whenever she was thoughtful or nervous. She kissed it and tucked it underneath her robe where she could feel it against her skin. Too soon she came into Beregost, still mostly asleep at the early hour. Anna raised a hand to greet the four armed people on the inn steps. Whatever happened now was up to destiny.


	2. The First Step

The travellers headed south and the day proved fine as the one before, though even warmer. At least Anna thought so as she felt the sweat start dripping under her layers of clothing. Her feet grew hot in their boots and the small stones on the highway grew sharper as they walked along. Her pack felt heavier, the straps biting pitilessly into her shoulders and she spent the time idly thinking of what she could toss out along the roadside. Anna never knew that the simple task of walking could make her so weary.

Still, she enjoyed seeing the pleasant woodlands and farmlands that lined the road. The gently rolling hills around Beregost were fertile and the locals long benefited from the combination of farmland, forest and trade. At least, they had until recently. The company passed only a few travellers, mostly farmers and local merchants who hurried past the party with wary glances and a quick whip to their mounts. With spring arrived the merchant caravans that were such a familiar sight in Beregost should have been clattering up and down the highway, but none came in sight. They left a strange absence that Anna sensed more with her heart than her eyes.

....

She sighed in happiness when the sun finally drew overhead and the party stopped by a small spring to fill their waterskins and wash their hot faces. Jaheira led them a ways from the road into a shady dell to rest. It was cool there and Anna thought that the earth never seemed so comfortable as she plopped her pack and herself down.

"Tired?" Finn grinned at her as she wiped her face.

"A little. But I'll get used to it," she smiled back.

"You kept up fairly well," said Jaheira in a voice that expressed both grudging approval and disappointment.

"I've always loved being outdoors," Anna replied. "In the growing season I probably spend half my days tending the gardens or hunting plants in the wood."

"You have an appreciation for nature's beauty, then."

"As do you, if I am not mistaken."

Anna noticed a wooden rune of an oak leaf hanging round her neck from a simple leather thong. The followers of Silvanus were often too extreme for her liking, but she had respect for the few she'd met.

"Indeed. I am a druid," Jaheira replied.

Anna opened her mouth to reply but Imoen jumped in.

"I like nature too, but I like it a lot better from the inside of a window. Too many bugs out here. Besides, birds and bees don't have any interesting stuff on them."

As she spoke she opened her pack and nonchalantly pulled out one of the missing spice cakes from the day before. Anna said nothing but couldn't help but chuckle a little when Imoen happily offered her a piece of the purloined cake.

"There are more riches in nature's realm than can be found in shiny baubles, child," Jaheira said. "I hope that one day you will mature enough to realise this."

"L-listen to Jaheira, I-Imoen," Khalid joined in. "She h-has much wisdom to offer you."

He looked at Jaheira with a loving smile on his face, and she smiled back. It was a rare expression and Anna sensed that despite their differences Jaheira had much affection for Khalid.

"Wisdom means walking around like you've got a poker up your backside," Imoen snickered. "The monks all had that problem!"

Finn laughed aloud while Jahiera's face registered disapproval and Khalid looked crestfallen.

"Oh, Khalid, I'm just teasing. Don't worry about it," Imoen said, conscious of the look of pain on the twitchy man's face. "I know Jaheira has lots she can teach us."

"You tease a bit too much, child," Jaheira replied.

"I'm not a 'child'…" Imoen muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing."

Anna felt the need to say something before the conversation turned sour.

"Monks?" she enquired.

"Yeah. Imoen and me are from Candlekeep." Finn replied.

"Really?" said Anna, interested. "I've read of the library, it sounds like a remarkable place. I'd love to visit some day. Father always spoke of travelling there, but we never had any books of great value. It's a tiny settlement though, isn't it?"

"I'll say! Beregost looked like Baldur's Gate to me. But we lived in the keep, not the village, and that was even worse," Imoen explained. "I lived at the inn and Finn was in the guards. Gods, I never want to beat another rug again! They liked to keep us busy there, you know."

"They're smart to keep you out of trouble," Finn razed her in a brotherly way. "I'm surprised they got the rugs back at all!"

"Ha!" Imoen laughed and targeted an acorn between his eyes but Finn managed to snatch it from the air.

"What does your father do?" Finn asked. "You didn't mention him yesterday."

"Anden Delainis was his name. He was a mage, but he died several years ago," Anna said quietly.

Finn looked at the ground. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Anna noticed a change in Finn's demeanour and decided to leave him be. Turning to Imoen she asked, "So, what made you decide to take up adventuring?"

"Well…" Imoen hesitated, giving Anna the impression that she'd wandered into another delicate subject.

"Some unfortunate circumstances pushed Finn and Imoen onto the road," Jaheira said. "Khalid and I are looking after them, and they are helping us with this business in Nashkel."

"I see," Anna said slowly. "I'm curious though, who told you about my little stash of arms? I didn't think many people knew about that. Not that it'd be much of a subject for gossip."

Imoen looked embarrassed and Finn said, "_Heh_. Well, when we were at the smithy one of his apprentices took a shine to Imoen. He couldn't do much about his master's prices but he told us that a mage up the road was rumoured to have some enchanted goods."

"Yeah. I feel kind of bad. I said I'd meet him in the tavern next time we were in town, but I'm not interested. He seemed nice but he's all spotty. We'll have to sneak through in the dead of night next time!" Imoen laughed.

Anna smiled. "But you are Harpers, too. I'm surprised you don't have a larger group for your mission."

She spoke without thinking and Jaheira frowned at the mention.

"We are not legion, and occasionally we do take aid from other quarters. Although I would not have thought to ask before the apprentice mentioned your name."

"It all worked out though," Finn said, stretching back lazily. "We got the weapons, a mage, and our gold back to boot. You'd think I planned it."

He gave Anna a cheeky grin and she opened her mouth in surprise.

"I do not think it was as calculated as you make out, Finn," Jaheira said dryly.

Finn smiled and gave her a 'if you say so' look. Anna flushed and said nothing. Had she been conned onto the road?

The rest of the meal passed rather quietly. As she lunched on bread and dried meat Anna wondered what else was going on with this group. She'd seen many parties of mismatched adventurers pass through Beregost over the years but Imoen and Finn seemed like particularly odd companions for a pair of half-elven Harpers on a dangerous mission. Harpers weren't known for keeping strays they found alongside the road, there must be more going on than met the eye.

...

Soon Jaheira roused the party and they continued south. As they went on the land rose and the Cloud Peaks grew higher ahead of them, the wreaths of thick mist that earned them their name visible along the ridge. They were a fair sight, with the mountainsides in shades of green from innumerable trees though snow still capped the higher peaks. The terrain grew rockier on either side of the road and the company walked quietly as the land was well-suited to an ambush. The afternoon passed uneventfully though and as the sun began to sink in the west they sought a place to make camp.

They found a spot where the light of the fire would be obscured by a low rocky cliff. With the setting sun the warmth of the day faded and the fire was welcome. Anna watched as the pink sky gradually turned black, and one by one the many stars showed their faces. Darkness crept up to the edges of the campfire. The moon had not yet risen and the shadows were solid amongst the trees. If she was at home Anna would be in her own comfortable chair, reading by firelight and enjoying one of Maya's good suppers. Instead she was out in the chill wilderness, about to partake of a decidedly thin stew and would study her spells by the side of the small campfire.

She pulled the warm cloak that smothered her earlier in the day more tightly around her shoulders and shivered slightly. She was determined not to complain. After all, it was her choice that set her on the road. Suddenly she had a thought; what if they had to sleep in the mines? Resting under the stars was one thing but a dark mine shaft quite another. A slight panic at the difficulty of the task crept over her and she wondered again if she made the right choice.

Finn seemed to guess her thoughts and came to sit next to her. "It's funny. When I was a boy the few chances I had to camp outside the monastery were great fun. But it's a different thing altogether when you're on the road for real. Makes you appreciate your bed all the more."

"Is it obvious I'm a bit awkward with this?"

While the others made camp Anna felt like she'd been in everyone's way no matter what she did.

"Only a little," Finn grinned. "Don't worry, Imoen and me are pretty new to this, too. We're lucky to have Jaheira and Khalid along, they've been up and down the road a few times."

Jaheira threw Finn a look that didn't seem to appreciate the insinuation that she'd been around for awhile, but said nothing.

"Y-yes, you'll get used to it," Khalid said with a shy but friendly smile. "If you need help, d-don't be afraid to ask."

"Thank you," Anna replied, smiling back. She was beginning to like Khalid. Perhaps due to his trouble speaking he rarely said much, but what he did say always seemed touched by kindness.

"Yeah, no need for concern when we're around," Imoen declared. "We're warriors extraordinaire! We can handle a few—moths, _eww!"_ She jumped up and found another seat away from the pair of marauding invaders that were attracted to the fire's light.

Finn chuckled a little at Imoen's plight and proceeded to clean the sword that Anna gave him.

"This is a fine weapon. It was your father's, you said?"

"Yes, but I don't remember him wielding it much. He was a mage, like me, and not really a fighting man."

"You said his name was Delainis, though. Are you sure you haven't got a husband somewhere?"

Anna flushed but laughed at the look he gave her.

"I'm sure. I grew up on my uncle's farm, and I've almost always used his name."

"In Beregost?" he asked.

"No. I'm from the Dales, near Ashabenford. I came out to the Sword Coast with father some years ago, and after he…passed on, I decided to stay."

"Hm," Finn said, thoughtfully sliding a greased cloth down the blade. "Delainis sounds familiar, though. Is that a noble name?"

"Yes, Cormyrian," she said, surprised. "How did you know?"

Finn looked pleased with himself.

"Must've read it somewhere," he said. "What about your mother? Is she still in the Dales?"

"My mother died when I was young," Anna said, touching the chain of the amulet around her neck.

"I'm sorry," said Finn. "I shouldn't have asked."

"That's alright. I don't really remember her, so it's not so sad."

Anna thought to ask Finn about his family, but she noticed him staring into the fire with that look in his eyes again.

"Ooh, how pretty!" Imoen noticed the amulet that Anna lifted out from under her robes. She moved closer to have a look. Anna held it out so Imoen could inspect it but didn't take it off her neck.

"That's elvish writing on it, isn't it?"

"Yes."

She looked lovingly at the small amulet that she'd had as long as she could remember. A silvery tree with its branches twisted into elaborate yet somehow simple designs rose up in the centre of the circle. A line from an elvish poem flowed like water around the edges of the amulet.

"It's so nice. Where'd you get an elven necklace from?"

"It was my mother's. She found it, apparently, when she was a little girl playing in the woods. All her life it was her favourite gem to wear. It used to be a brooch, actually. Grandfather had it made into a necklace for her."

"Found it?" Imoen exclaimed. "Why can't I find something like that? I'm going digging in the woods now."

"Like a bear?" Finn seemed to have recovered some of his humour.

"_Oi_, you," she said, giving him a little swat on the arm.

Anna tucked the amulet back under her robe. She didn't quite trust Imoen's sticky fingers though she didn't seem like the type to knowingly make off with something that belonged to someone's dead mother.

She settled down to study her spellbook. Her excitement and rush of packing last night left her with little time to memorize spells that would be useful on the road and she spent much of the day in fear that she would be required to shoot off a fireball or two. Now she set about it in earnest and for awhile she forgot her strange surroundings. Slowly she worked through the heavy vellum pages, her mind flowing around the words, drawing their magic into her. Studying magic felt warm and meditative, each incantation an old friend. She loved the way the essences seemed to come together when she cast a spell, becoming something tangible in her grasp. Finally though she closed her book, running a hand gently over the brown cover. The fire was growing low and it was time for sleep.

"You can take the last watch tonight," Jaheira decided. "Finn will wake you and then you can rouse the rest of us at dawn."

Anna headed to her bedroll. The blankets were slightly musty from years of sitting in a back wardrobe but Maya's vigilance kept the insects out of them, at least. In spite of the heavy warm wool Anna felt a chill and going to bed without undressing was strange. Every way she turned some stone or root poked her and it was some time before weariness finally overcame unfamiliarity and discomfort and she could sleep.

...

The next moment she woke with a start. Someone was shaking her lightly. Forgetting where she was she sat up quickly. Finn crouched next to her, his handsome face like marble in the thin moonlight.

"Sorry if I scared you," he said low. "It's your turn to stand guard."

"I—alright," Anna replied, still half asleep. A damp cold came over her as she pulled the blankets down. She was uncertain of the time but it felt like dawn was not far away.

"I thought about letting you sleep, seeing as it's your first night out," Finn whispered close to her. "But fair's fair. Will you manage alright? I can help you if you want."

"No, I'll be fine," said Anna, stifling a yawn. The spring morning's chill was settling into her bones.

"That's a girl."

Finn departed to his bedroll and Anna was left on her own. Wearily she stumbled to her feet, careful not to step on any of the well-bundled sleeping figures. She managed to find a wineskin and a few swallows put some warmth into her body. Her eyes adjusted to the dark so cautiously she set off on her mission.

Among the trees near the campsite the dark was thicker and Anna had to step carefully lest she stumble over a branch or other obstacle. She went from tree to tree listening carefully, her eyes searching for any light. She felt the folly of her situation; surely any beast with night vision or a good nose would spot her long before she became aware of their presence. Dutifully though she looked around the camp and detecting nothing out of place she sat down on an outcrop overlooking the site. Anna loved the early morning but this was a little too early even for her liking, especially after spending the night outdoors. Pulling her cloak around her she made herself small against a tree and sat listening to the faint sounds of the forest.

The hours moved slowly. The air hung still but occasional light breezes made the trees creak mysteriously. A bird disturbed from its roost made her heart jump into her throat but all remained silent. Through the gap in the trees she could see the massive liquid stars hovering overhead. The moon was setting and the sky to the east slowly turned grey. Birds came awake one by one and their cries began to echo through the forest. She decided to look around again and she rose, clutching at her cloak and moving as silently as her stiff legs would allow. Very slowly it seemed the sky began to turn pink.

When Anna walked back into camp she saw Jaheira awake and stirring up the fire. She greeted her quietly and asked if she should have woken her earlier.

"No, I am an early riser. Have you seen anything?"

"Nothing unusual."

Anna warmed her hands over the embers while Jaheira continued her work.

"You may go back to your watch. I shall awaken the others when it is time."

Anna took her hint and went back to her perch on the small rocky hill. She felt a bit bruised by Jahiera's attitude. Hopefully it was simply her nature to be cautious and she would warm up in time. Hopefully. She would never admit it but it always stung when she felt that someone didn't like her.

...

Soon the company broke camp and found the road again. Anna yawned, her eyes grainy from the early start. She began to sing a tune to herself, causing Jaheira to turn and somewhat acidly state that if she wished to announce herself to whatever might be lying in wait for them a flare might be more effective. Anna's face felt like fire but she stopped singing.

"Was that necessary, Jaheira?" Finn remarked. "She wasn't being very loud. You and Khalid made more noise discussing the road to the south."

"Nonetheless," Jaheira said, "This isn't a picnicking party. This part of the road is wild even without the increased number of bandits scouting about for marks. It's better to be safe than sorry."

"Yeesh," Imoen said quietly. "What did she have for breakfast?"

"Hard to say, but she's been having it every day since the Friendly Arm at least," Finn whispered back, loud enough for Anna to hear. He flashed a smile at her and she grinned back. Jaheira turned back at them with a frown. She must have guessed they were making fun of her but only said, "If you are finished socializing we have somewhere we need to be."

Khalid and her walked on ahead but Finn, Imoen and Anna hung back a little, the tall man walking between the two women.

"Don't let her get you down," Finn said to Anna. "She's alright, just too uptight. I don't think Khalid and her spend enough time alone together, if you know what I mean."

"Finn," said Imoen in mock seriousness, "we maids do know what you mean, but it's hardly a polite thing to say in mixed company. Or any company. Not something people would want to think about, thank you very much!"

"Then I most humbly beg your pardon, my fair ladies," he said, making a comic bow towards the road.

Imoen snickered and Anna smiled while looking down at the road under her feet. She wondered about the men who laid every stone in this road between the Cloud Peaks and Baldur's Gate. At one time there must have been a gang of them in the spot where they walked, talking and laughing and singing workmen's songs. Now though, the land was empty and still.

Her reverie was interrupted by Finn reaching out to stop them. Khalid signalled and he and Jaheira disappeared on the side of the road. Finn pulled the women into some bushes on the opposite side. Anna lay still under the prickly shrub, her heart pounding in her chest. Her view of the road was obscured by Finn lying in front of her and Imoen's knee poked into her back. She lay quiet as possible, straining to hear a sound over the pounding of the blood in her ears. At first there was nothing. But gradually she became aware of a strange grunting noise and the sound of heavy footfalls on the road.

"They's here. I smells 'em," a deep, coarse voice said.

"Come out, little humans," another voice called, "we no hurt yous."

The statement was greeted by a round of rough laughter.

"_Scare 'em out!"_

Then came a wave of confusing crashes and cries. Finn shouted and charged out of the bush. Anna and Imoen scrambled to their feet, the shrub scratching Anna's face as she went. There on the road was a group of what Anna reckoned must be hobgoblins. Their faces were hairy and pig-like and they carried massive, cruel-looking blades. Khalid and Jaheira engaged the creatures, he thrusting and slicing with his sword and she bringing her mace down on their heads like thunder. Finn dashed into the fray. He moved swiftly, easily cutting down two of the monsters with his blade.

Mesmerised Anna watched the surreal scene but the zing of Imoen's bowstring at her ear brought her back to her senses. Drawing a deep breath she spoke a quick incantation and made signs of drawing a bow in the air. She focused her attention on the hobgoblin nearest her and felt magic energy rushing through her arms and down to her fingertips. Swift as light a bolt of green materialised from the air and found its way to the target. The goblin screamed as the acid arrow struck him on the face. He turned towards this new attacker, the burns horribly obvious on his hairy skin. With a cry he charged the women.

Imoen's hands shook as she struggled to fit another arrow into her bow. Anna had no time to think. She cried out another spell and waved her hands at the beast as he rushed towards them. A glowing orb issued from her hands, striking the hobgoblin in a burst of liquid energy. He went down to the ground, crying out goblinish curses as he fumbled around, blinded. Imoen fitted her arrow but hesitated, either from lack of an obvious weak spot to place the shot or from pity for the creature bleeding and crawling on the road. Anna knew they should finish him off but she couldn't summon the will to kill him. Finn took the decision out of her hands. He came up behind the hobgoblin and Anna had to look away as his blade swung down hard over the creature, separating his head from his body. It rolled away like a ball. She felt her stomach turning sat down hard onto the road. The other hobgoblins had been dealt with and Jaheira was leaning over Khalid, placing her healing hands over a nasty gash on his shoulder.

"Hey, are you alright?" Imoen asked Anna. She might have asked Imoen the same question; she shook and her face was drained of colour.

"Yes," Anna said quietly, although she felt her legs wouldn't hold her weight just then. She breathed deep, trying to recollect herself.

Finn walked up to them, wiping the black blood off his sword before sheathing the blade.

"Are you hurt?" He looked at Imoen but bent over Anna. She noticed blood trickling from a hidden cut on his head.

"I'm fine…we're both fine. It's just…"

"It's alright," Finn said. "Come, I'll help you up." He picked her up as if she were a child and set her on her feet, holding her a moment until he was sure she was steady.

Jaheira finished attending her husband and hurried up to them.

"Were any of you hit?" she asked. She saw the blood on Finn's forehead. "Finn, you are injured. Let me see that wound."

"It's just a scratch, Jaheira. Never mind," he said, pulling away from her.

"Nonsense. Playing the hardened warrior won't work with me. You will let me heal you."

"Yes, ma'am," said Finn.

Jaheira examined his head and placed her hands over the wound. She closed her eyes and said a low prayer. Finn rose up and looked around at the scene of the slaughter.

"We should get moving. This lot looks like a patrol, there's probably more of them in the woods somewhere."

"Y-yes, w-we s-sh-should." Battle evidently did not do much for Khalid's stutter.

He and Finn dragged the bodies into the undergrowth and Imoen gingerly went about, searching the corpses for anything that could be of use to the party. She turned up a few rough jewels and coins but their food wasn't fit to eat. As quickly as possible they headed off on the road again, staying watchful for any of the hobgoblins' compatriots.

...

After some miles Jaheira called a halt. Anna was thankful for a chance to rest. She had seen a few fights in her travels, but always from a safe distance. She tried to remind herself that they fought hobgoblins, monsters that would have feasted on their flesh likely as not had the battle gone the other way. They would not have shown any mercy. But somehow that did not make the memories of their dying cries easier to bear, nor the thought of their blood staining the stones of the road any less horrible.

Anna ate and drank a little but could not bring herself to eat of the dried meat. She thought of her comrades' actions in battle. Jaheira and Khalid were workmanlike and skilled, obviously the veterans of many skirmishes. Neither of them would go rubbery-kneed at the sight of a dead hobgoblin, Anna thought grimly. For all her bravado Imoen had shown herself to be a frightened girl who seemed new to combat as Anna herself. Still, she was not too afraid to fight.

But as had often happened over the past day Anna's thoughts focused on Finn. He had training with a blade, that seemed clear. Imoen had said he was a guard. But she found herself disturbed by the ease with which he killed. There was no sign of hesitation in him as he cut through their enemies like a farmer with a scythe. It seemed beyond one of his years, more suited perhaps to those grizzled old adventurers who would list their victims in taverns over a mug of ale as casually as some men would read a merchant's bill. Nor did he seem cruel-natured. Perhaps she imagined it, after all. The more she tried to recall the event, the more mercifully blurred it became.


	3. Revelations and Firelight

The sun had past its zenith the next day when the party finally arrived on the outskirts of the small mining village of Nashkel. Despite the mine's importance the village was little more than a collection of cottages and tiny farms huddled together in the foothills of the mountains. The houses there were smaller than in Beregost, and the village had a more rustic air than even that country town.

Although the settlement stood on the northern side of the Cloud Peaks it was ruled by Amn and the difference showed. Before the crisis the iron mine had been a profitable enterprise but most of the money lined the pockets of the noble investors in Athkatla, leaving the men who actually went down into the dark pits with a pittance. As usual though the chance at a steady wage, however small, kept the mine full of willing workers and certain Amnish lords and ladies draped in Calishite silks.

Approaching the village the rumours of war took tangible form; they were surprised to see Amnish soldiers were everywhere on the streets, easily matching the local population in numbers. As the group approached the small bridge that lead into the village a guard halted them.

"Hold, citizens! State your business in Nashkel."

"We have business with Berrun Ghastkill, soldier, that we will discuss with him only." Jaheira fixed the guard with that withering stare. "He is expecting our company."

The guard looked like he couldn't decide whether to be offended at being spoken to in such a manner by a woman or to let the group pass.

"I'm sorry…my lady…but my orders are to question every armed person that comes to Nashkel. However, if you're here to meet the mayor…I must bring this to the attention of my captain."

"Very well then, soldier, but please hurry. We have been delayed long enough as it is."

The soldier set off leaving the quintet under the watchful eye of two other sentries, and in a short while returned.

"Pardon me, my lady, but the captain has given orders for you to travel through the village at will. I apologise for the delay."

...

The soldier pointed the way to the mayor's house and they headed into the village. It was easy to find, being significantly larger than any other except for the jarringly elaborate manor house that the major investors of the mining company had built for their comfort during their infrequent visits to the town. By contrast the mayor's half-timbered house had a solid, no-nonsense air that wouldn't be out of place in Beregost.

A maid showed them into the small sitting room that doubled as the mayor's office. He rose from his desk and greeted them in a hearty yet slightly gruff manner. Berrun Ghastkill was a heavy man with ruddy cheeks, keen eyes and a manner of speaking which told that years of living in the isolated place hadn't dulled his wits any. He offered wine and bade them sit while he related Nashkel's troubles.

Some of the mine ore was contaminated or rotten, but it was impossible to tell it from the good ore until it had been smelted, forged, and crumbled to dust in the hands of unfortunate farmers and mercenaries alike. It even seemed to have the ability to infect good metal it came into contact with. Not only that, but miners had begun to die. Those that survived told stories of red-eyed demons in the depths of the mine. The miners were frightened and only the bravest or most desperate continued to work the pits.

The officials in Amn had previously put down the fault with the ore as a natural phenomenon and had ordered them to struggle on as best they could. The mayor liked to think that the miners' deaths was what finally brought the soldiers to the town, but he knew well enough that the loss of a few paupers was not enough to rouse the Amnish army. Rather it was the rumours of intrigue that brought the troops forth.

Naturally enough some adventurers and mercenaries tried to solve the riddle of the mines, but none returned and the mayor ordered the mine sealed to all but the workers in an attempt to save more fools their lives. The army now guarded the pits and the miners but they did not penetrate too far into the tunnels.

"Why don't they just get all these troops in Nashkel down in the mine to thump around and kill whatever's down there?" Imoen asked. "It'd be the easiest way."

"Well miss, I've heard that the mine owners are considering this place to be a write-off. It's more of a headache than it's worth to them, it seems, and the powers that be won't risk losing men over it. Amn's got other sources of iron. It's the north that suffers the most from us not operating though. Some folk are talking that Baldur's Gate is organising this whole thing to get control of the mine and cut Amn out of the picture, as it were. The Dukes never have liked them having their little foothold this side of the mountains. That's what's really got Amn worked up. It's one thing to lose something but another to have it taken from under your nose, you understand. They couldn't lose face to the north like that, not when they're having troubles with the colonies."

"I'll be up front with you, I fear for your safety," he continued. "I know I asked for aid but the idea of sending people to their deaths is not a happy one for me. I didn't realise some of you would be so young." His attention focused on Imoen in particular. "Please, don't feel obligated to risk your lives on our behalf."

"We thank you for your candour, Mayor," Jaheira said, "But we are commissioned to investigate this crisis and so we shall. My companions may be young but they are brave and more skilled than they would appear. Whatever can be done, so we shall do."

The mayor sighed a little. "I'll write you a letter that will allow you to pass the mine guards. Speak to the foreman, Eric, before you enter the mine. He's a grumpy old sod but he knows more about it than anyone."

As he sat down at his desk the office door opened and the pleasantly round face of a girl about sixteen peeked in shyly for a moment. Seeing the mayor's company though she went out again without a word. Likely she was the cause of the mayor's concern about Imoen, Anna thought.

...

Documents in hand the party made their way to the local inn. Anna expected it to be overflowing with soldiers but except for a few locals drinking away their troubles the place was empty. The Amnish commander apparently kept his men on a tight rein. The innkeeper gave them a suspicious look as they approached the bar but took their orders for ale and meat with little more than a snort.

"Yes, missus, there's rooms available tonight," the landlord said in answer to Jahiera's enquiries. "And damn near every night nowadays, too. First this iron crisis, then bandits, now soldiers everywhere, it drives away all but the local men." The innkeep placed a particular emphasis on 'bandits', as if he wouldn't be much surprised if the party tried to rob him for the iron hinges on his cupboard doors. "This is usually a busy time n'all, but not this year."

"That's right," Anna spoke up, "The spring fair is on now, isn't it?"

Though she'd never gone herself, caravans of merry people from Beregost journeyed to the carnival every year to trade and enjoy the entertainments. With the troubles this year however none had risked the trip. Imoen's eyes lighted up at the word.

"Aye, miss, it is," the landlord said. "Though it might as well not be happening. It's mostly a group of empty tents now. Nobody's willing to travel and the locals are keeping their purses close to their vests with all the problems. Most of the performers have called it a day."

"It's not shutting entirely, is it?" Imoen asked hopefully, "I've never been to a fair, it sounds like such fun."

"Never been to a fair? That's queer for a young girl. Usually ye can't keep 'em away. But no, they're likely to keep it on for awhile yet despite the troubles. It's the tradition round here, said to bring good luck. Tyr knows we could use some."

"I doubt we will have time to attend, Imoen," Jaheira said, "but perhaps, if by Silvanus we can perform this mission…"

She retreated into her own thoughts. Now that they had arrived the reality of what they had to accomplish was affecting even the stoic druid. Khalid placed his hand gently over hers and she gave it a squeeze.

"Work first, fun later, Im, you ought to know that from back home," Finn said matter-of-factly, but his blue eyes showed an eagerness too.

"More like work first, then more work."

The pair laughed and the party continued eating. Anna however became aware of a figure watching them from across the room. A woman, in armour, sitting on her own. She was partially obscured by a beam but still Anna was certain she was observing them with low eyes. She didn't seem to fit in with the locals, perhaps she was with the troops. Anna tried to dismiss her but she felt uneasy.

...

The group lingered at table before finally rising to purchase supplies before the shops closed for the evening. Anna all but forgot about the woman but as they neared the door some instinct told her to look back. She only had time to cry out before the woman cast her spell. The next moment she was unable to move or utter a word, frozen helpless. Her eyes were fixed on the woman as she moved forward with a vicious smile on her face.

"Sorry about the ambush," she began, "but you have me outnumbered, and it only seems fair to even the playing field a bit."

"Who in the hells are you?" Anna heard Finn demand. He and Imoen were closest to the door, they must have escaped the woman's powers.

"Someone's who's been looking for you, Finn of Candlekeep. I believe that is your name, yes?" The woman raised a war hammer. "Don't worry folks," she called to the scurrying tavern patrons. "I'm only after this one here."

"Not another one!" Imoen wailed.

"You've got some nerve lady, trying this with all these soldiers around," Finn answered.

The woman laughed. "Oh, them? A few winks and promises were enough to get me into this town, and I'll be gone before they know what happened. The money on your pretty head is just too much to resist. But enough talk."

She uttered another incantation and seemed to grow in size, her muscles rippling with a new power. With a cry she lunged forward to strike at the pair.

Imoen let loose an arrow but it bounced fruitlessly off the woman's armour. Finn went for a more direct approach, slashing at the assassin with his blade then circling round to deliver a blow that should have nearly sliced her in two. The woman merely staggered though, protected by some magical shield.

"Nice try, darling," she said as she struck her own wicked blow against Finn's chest. Anna heard the sick crack of bone and he grunted and fell back.

"Do you really want to make this harder than it needs to be?" the woman cooed. "Just lay down like a good boy. Who knows, I might even let your friends go."

Finn stood gasping and doubled over in pain, leaning on his blade for support. He slowly raised his head and when he looked at the woman, death was in his eyes.

"I don't think so, bitch."

Imoen managed to creep up behind the assassin and stuck her dagger into the woman's back with no success. She whirled and hit at Imoen with her metal gauntlet, driving her to the floor.

The diversion provided Finn with the opportunity he needed. Staggering forward he brought his blade down with all his force on the woman's shoulder. The strike proved too much for her defences and she crumpled to the floor. With a groan she rolled onto her back, pleading with Finn who stood over her.

"No hard feelings, love…right?" she said shakily. "I'll pay you, anything, I have money…_please!_"

Finn stared at her darkly. He raised his blade and thrust it hard into an exposed spot on her neck. Blood burst from her throat and the woman gurgled horribly through her ruptured windpipe. She struggled for a moment, her eyes wide, one hand raised limply towards the sword. She wheezed with the faint sound of a scream and slowly fell back, still.

With the woman dead her spell faded and Anna could move again. Finn looked at her with eyes so full of blackness that she fell back from him, frightened.

"Damn these bounty hunters!" Jaheira cursed. "We need to find out who has placed this price on your head, Finn, and soon."

"There's a bounty on you?" Anna cried out. "When were you planning on telling me?" A bounty on Finn was one on her as long as she was in his company.

"Why, do you think these bastards are more dangerous than going down into a demon-infested mine?" he asked in a hard voice.

He withdrew his sword from the woman's throat and stared at her body impassively. Blood flowed from her neck and open mouth, tracing a red halo on the floor round her head.

"It's pretty relevant information, don't you think?"

"And now you know. You can leave if you want."

"They make me sick," said Imoen, lifting herself into a chair. She had the beginnings of a black eye spreading over her cheek. "They killed Gorion."

"Who's Gorion?"

"There are some things we should tell you, Anna, before we continue on," said Jaheira, "But now we must deal with the issue at hand."

The sounds of battle drew guards in from the street. The next couple of hours were spent earnestly speaking to the authorities and trying to calm a purple-faced landlord who raged and ranted about murderers in his tavern. Gold had to be spent to placate him but he refused to allow the company to spend the night. He wouldn't have any more assassins creeping in through windows to kill him and his family in the night, thank you very much. After much bartering and pleading though they managed to secure the rent of an empty cottage for the evening.

...

When they were all behind securely bolted doors Jaheira explained that someone wanted Finn dead, but they had no idea who, or why an orphan who had lived a secluded life should warrant such a thing. He fled Candlekeep nearly a month ago with his foster father, Gorion, the old man giving no clue as to why he felt the need to take his ward beyond the keep's secure walls. In the woods they encountered a group of armed men and ogres, and a tall soldier who demanded Finn. They killed many mercenaries but neither Finn's sword nor the old man's spells seemed to have any effect on the strange soldier. Gorion was slain by the warrior, telling Finn in his final breath to flee. Imoen found him the next day, and together they made their way to the Friendly Arm Inn where Gorion intended to seek out Khalid and Jaheira. The rest Anna knew.

Finn remained silent while Jaheira told the tale. Now Anna understood the look in his eyes. She marvelled at his strength to come so far with such danger at his heels.

"I apologise to you," Jaheira continued. "We should have told you these things before we accepted your assistance. Some craven rogue made an attempt on Finn's life at the Friendly Arm, but the guards took care of him. I hoped the matter would resolve as we went south. That woman who attacked us today was no ordinary cutthroat, and this other warrior...if their sort are after Finn then the bounty on his head must be a sizeable one. Khalid and I underestimated the danger. Our mission is doubly dangerous, and I do not think that any of us would blame you if you chose to return home."

Anna realised she'd been holding her breath through Jaheira's story. This mad situation was even more complicated than she thought. Still, she agreed to help and didn't feel like she could leave now, no matter what the others said.

"This is…something. But I promised to help you with the mines and I won't go back on that."

"I appreciate that, we all do." Finn said quietly. "I'm sorry too, for not telling you. I suppose I hoped that by ignoring it, it would go away. This has all been so insane, running and Gorion's murder…I'm still trying to get my head around it. None of this makes any sense."

He slumped forward and ran his hands through his hair.

"It's h-hard for us all," Khalid said. "G-Gorion was a friend. I know we weren't so close as y-you, but, we mourn him, too."

"Indeed," Jaheira said quietly.

Imoen went over to Finn and impulsively put her arms around him. He put an arm around her shoulders but kept his eyes fixed on some point in the air.

...

Anna didn't sleep very well that night, either. She felt pity for Finn and Imoen and wondered about their strange situation. People did not place bounties for no reason. But who would target Finn? What enemies could he possibly have? Unable to rest she went downstairs for some water and saw Finn sitting alone by the low fire, staring into the flames. At the creak of the staircase he looked up.

She went and sat on the bench beside him.

"Shouldn't you try to get some sleep?" she said in a friendly way.

"Shouldn't you?" he rejoined.

"We both should."

They were quiet for a moment, watching the soft blue flames seeking fresh fuel.

"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose a father. And you have so much more to worry about, too...I know we don't know each other very well, but I'm here for you, if you want to talk about it," Anna said. Finn didn't move.

"There isn't much to talk about," he said finally. "It won't change anything."

"No, but it helps sometimes. It can help you sort your thoughts."

"You have no idea what's going on in my mind."

Having the distinct feeling she wasn't welcome Anna began to rise but Finn put his hand on her arm.

"I'm sorry, don't leave." He laughed a little. "How many times have we apologised, and we've only known each other a couple of days?"

"A fair few," Anna smiled. Finn was regaining some of his boyish aspect.

"I'm glad you joined us. Imoen's a handful, Jaheira's like a piece of flint most times and Khalid is well, Khalid. Conversations tend to get a bit limited."

"Yes, well, I suppose you have yourself to thank for my being here," Anna said, a bit archly.

"What, you mean what I said the other day? I was just kidding around." The mischievous look in his eyes didn't convince her. "Really! I'm glad you're here. It's good to have someone a bit more…well-adjusted to talk to."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm well-adjusted?"

"Well, relatively anyway."

They both laughed, rapidly checking it lest they wake the others. Anna looked at him. His eyes sparkled in the firelight and she thought how easily they could shift between moods. Unwittingly her gaze strayed down his defined neck to the dark hairs peeking out behind his tunic collar. Their eyes met again and his lip curled a little. Sensing something else in those eyes she cleared her throat and stood up.

"We really should get some rest," Anna said to the floor. "We'll need it for tomorrow."

"If you insist," Finn said.

He rose and stretched his tall frame leisurely, but Anna was already on the stairs.


	4. Lantern Light

Before the sun rose to its midpoint the next day the party were working their way down to the pithead of the Nashkel Iron Mine. The unpaved road sloped downward and they stepped carefully to avoid slipping on the flinty rocks. Soon though the road levelled out into a broad, flat area circled by cliffs of reddish stone. Here and there men and boys in rough clothes went about their business. Some women and girls worked as well, tired-looking and silent. The miners would look up as the party passed but none stopped their work. Anna thought their faces seemed empty, as if a kind of resigned despair had settled into their souls. A few Amnish guards stood sentry. They mostly looked bored.

A guard approached the group and seeing their papers directed them to the foreman Eric's office. It proved to be a crude wooden structure that probably hadn't looked much better when it was newly built. Entering they found its inhabitants well suited to the building. A heavy, crabby-looking man sat at a rough table that served as a desk. His dark red hair stuck out in all directions and his beard hung untrimmed. On a chest lay an equally insolent-looking cat with a patchwork coat. Its amber eyes regarded the party with casual contempt but it did not budge. The man glared at the newcomers.

"Wonderful. More walking tin-cans. What do ye want, strangers?"

He read the mayor's letter with a snort. "So you're the lot the mayor's brought in to clear the mine? I take it he didn't hire ye by sight then. Well, you can head down pit if ye like. Not my look-out if some tin-heads are feelin' the urge to say goodbye to the blessed earth. The men here are my responsibility. They're a hard-working, honest lot, not some dressed-up dandies who run around waving swords at windmills. Their job's gone a helluva lot harder these past few months n'all. Do you know how many kids are going hungry on account of this mess? 'Course not, yer only thinking of yer own pockets. Well, for what it's worth me tinnies, I hope you do find whatever's down there. These blasted soldiers don't give a toss, that's for damn sure."

After the party endured this speech the man rose up somewhat awkwardly. Anna saw his right leg was false from the knee down.

"You like me stump?" he said, noticing their glances. "I earned that fifteen year ago in tunnel collapse. I was lucky though, I just lost a leg. Three of me mates lost their lives. Still down there, they are. Shove off, Jasper."

Eric walked over to the chest and dislodged the cat from his perch with one light swish of his broad hand. The animal registered a meow of disapproval and strode with much dignity through a small hole in the door.

"Mayor told me to draw up some charts to keep you lot from going round in circles down there. I've got 'em here." He straightened up from the chest with a grunt and laid the maps on the table.

"Most of the men stick t' first two levels now on account of the troubles. There's four levels of the mine all told, but these hills are full of caves and some of the mineshafts connects into 'em. Nobody's sure where they go, or how far or deep." He shook his head. "I dunno. When granddad mined here the men stayed pretty close to the surface. But all this new-fangled kit means they've got us digging deeper than men was meant to, you ask me. Only a matter of time before we came across something unnatural."

"What do you think's killing the miners, Eric?" Finn asked after examining the maps.

"Hells, if I knew that, lad—" he began. "It's not human, whatever it is. The bodies they've pulled out've been covered with cuts and marks what looks like claws. A couple've even been shrivelled up like they'd been down there for months when they'd been seen just that morn. There's all kinds of wild stories about demons. The women don't go down shafts anymore, and most of the men are keeping their kids out of the mine n'all—one of 'em what was killed was a lad of only thirteen. Horrible, it were."

Armed with Eric's maps and speculations but somehow not feeling much the better for them the party set for the mine entrance. Anna thought it looked like a black mouth waiting to swallow them all. Her legs felt a bit wobbly. She never like caves, especially ones with demonic creatures running around in them. The guards at the entrance stared at them but let them pass into the darkness.

...

Near the surface the walls and roof stayed fairly high though even as the shaft sloped further down into the depths. Torches blazed along the walls, throwing their eerie light over the rocks. They passed a couple miners guiding a pony that struggled on the rocky floor with a cartful of ore. The miners stared at the party as if something alien had come into their world.

After a long walk they came finally to a low room where a series of shafts headed off into different directions. A crude lift stood at the opposite end. A team of ponies idled harnessed to a crankshaft. Two guards who looked as if they'd rather be anywhere else stood beside the lift. A bell rang and a miner whipped up the ponies. A platform with several miners and a trolley of ore appeared up through the ground and the ponies stopped. Another pair of miners backed a pony against the load and proceeded to haul it towards the surface.

"'Tis a shameful thing, how they use these creatures in these depths. It goes against nature," Jaheira commented with disgust.

"Is it worse than how they treat the men?" Anna asked.

She knew mining was a dirty business but seeing the ragged, thin men endlessly swinging their picks against the stone and the women and children hunched-backed, picking over the sharp rocks she felt thankful indeed to be a mage.

"Nay," Jaheira answered grimly. "Man and beast seem to be as one down here."

"Ho there," she called to the men on the lift. "Is this the way to the lower levels?"

"Aye, m'lady, it surely is," a miner answered with obvious surprise.

The miners departed and the party stepped onto the platform.

"I hope this thing holds," Finn muttered taking control of the guiding rope.

....

The lift creaked down the black shaft and arrived at the second level. The weight of the rocks overhead began to affect Anna and she could vividly imagine the tonnes of earth above their heads. She tried to shake it off though and focus on the matter at hand. Miners busily worked there and near the lift a trolley of ore stood ready to take to the surface. Finn picked up one of the red lumps of rock.

"Hard to believe all this trouble comes down to something like this," he said thoughtfully, examining the stone.

In the dim torchlight the webs of hematite glistened like liquid on the rock. He made a short noise and tossed it back into the pile.

A miner noticed their arrival and approached the party.

"Begging your pardon, but what are you folks doing down here?"

"We have been sent by the mayor to investigate the problems with the mine," Jaheira answered.

"Oh, aye? About time someone did. I'm the boss of these men here. This is far as we're willing to dig anymore, too many men've been lost on lower levels."

"Can you tell us anything about the men who were killed? Where were they found?"

The boss marked off the spots where dead miners were discovered. Although some men were killed on the third level most of the bodies had been found on the fourth.

"Lovely," Finn remarked. "Of course most of the caves connect through there, too."

"I'd stay out of them, I were you," the boss said. "there's something evil down there for sure."

"Unfortunately, that's what we're here for."

After some talk the party decided to head directly down to the fourth level. On the platform Anna's last sight of humanity was the mine boss, who was certainly not expecting to see them alive again.

...

The lift crept painfully slowly before finally hitting stone at the bottom of the shaft. Beyond the flickering lantern-light was a solid darkness that seemed almost like a physical barrier. It was blacker than any night, blacker than anything Anna could imagine. It felt like the world ended and the void began in that space where the brave little lights finally faltered.

"Be wary," Jaheira said. "Any number of traps or pitfalls might await us down here."

Imoen scouted near to the front as she dared, searching for traps. Anna wondered if her skills as a pickpocket would translate into an ability to find and disarm any that might block their way.

"Look," the girl whispered.

She carefully lifted from the dust a broken half of a small light arrow.

"Kobolds?" Khalid asked.

"Mmm," Jaheira replied, examining the dart. "They would fit the bill as our red-eyed monsters."

"Kobolds aren't much bigger than a dog, right?" Finn asked. "I don't see how they'd be much of a threat."

"They are small but travel in packs, and a single arrow can bring down the strongest warrior. It will not do to be overly confident with even the most apparently weak of enemies. But you are correct, I do not see how kobolds themselves could have killed so many men down here without revealing themselves."

"What then?" Anna said. "The foreman said some men had been…shrivelled. Kobolds couldn't do that."

"No. It is difficult to say without seeing their corpses. The foreman was not very specific in his descriptions."

"B-best to be p-p-prepared f-f-or"

"Anything?" Finn cut in dryly.

"Y-yes," Khalid said, looking at Finn. "Yes."

....

The party continued down a passage to where several of the men were found dead. The stillness of the shafts was overwhelming. The slight clinking of armour and shields and occasional whispers of the company were louder than thunderclaps in that dead place. Sounds bounced off the rock walls making them seem like they were coming from ahead and behind, making it difficult to listen for attackers.

Even the cool air had a staleness to it from the lack of growing green and every step she took made Anna want to scream and run. The dark and cold stillness was more frightening than any enemy could be, she was sure. She touched the amulet under her robes and made a small prayer to Chauntea in her mind. At least, she asked, let me see the sky and trees again.

"Here," Jaheira said finally.

They reached a spot where a passage forked off to the right. The air coming from the new passage was colder and a subtle breeze could be felt. Seeing no obvious clues at the scene they marked the wall and followed the new path where it would lead. The passage twisted in an arc but eventually ended in a natural crack in the wall too narrow for any of them to get through.

"Dead end," Finn said, putting his hand up to the puffs of air coming through the gap.

"Ugh, don't say that," said Imoen, clutching her shoulders.

"Where to now?" he asked Jaheira, ignoring Imoen.

"There are other sites to investigate."

The next two spots were equally void of evidence of the miners' murderers. They saw a few more signs of kobolds in the passages but so far the level seemed strangely empty.

"I don't like this," Jaheira said. "The kobolds were here recently, where have they gone? It isn't like them to allow intruders to enter their domain without a fight."

"Perhaps there's something else down here that's frightened them off," Anna suggested.

"That's p-possible," said Khalid.

"And I was beginning to hope there wasn't anything down here but some little lizards," Imoen said.

"Weren't we all," Finn replied.

....

As the party set off down the fourth passage Anna started to wonder how long they were going to wander around in that hole. Surely there was something there but was stumbling around till they found it, or it found them, the best option? She could come up with no better plan though so she followed along behind Finn. He was not in the best of humour either, especially as he had to stoop to walk through many of the passages. Occasionally she turned back to Khalid who brought up the rear. He gave her an encouraging smile but his grey eyes betrayed his nervousness.

They began to hear the sound of running water up ahead. They followed it along and soon the miners' passage opened into a large natural cave. The lanterns revealed a waterfall that flowed out of a flat crack in the rock wall and went splashing into a wide dark pool. Heavy stalactites hung from the ceiling and the lantern light set the minerals in the rocks glittering like hundreds of tiny underground stars. If not for their situation Anna would have considered it a beautiful sight. They picked their way around the pool and up to the mouth of another smaller cavern.

"Wait," Jaheira said, her eyes scanning the cave.

The walls of the cavern were sparkling too, but they had a softer, almost fabric-like look. The air had a sour odour and Anna noticed some odd bulges in the walls. Horror came over her when she discerned dangling from one, a shrivelled human hand.

"Go back," Jaheira said low.

Before they could make a step the walls of the cavern came alive. With a hiss large black shapes crawled quickly over wall and ceiling towards the party. Spiders, giant spiders.

They moved away from the entrance as fast as they could without turning their backs on the beasts, stumbing over rocks and slipping into the water. The spiders moved like liquid out of their den. How many were in there? In seconds they would be surrounded, their exit cut off by the venomous foes.

This time Anna did not hesitate. She threw back her arms and spoke magic words into the air. In front of her an orb of pulsing flame appeared from the ether. She felt its heat on her face and through force of will sent the ball flying into the spiders' den, turning away as the air exploded into flame. The spiders near the entrance were singed to a crisp.

The spiders that escaped the inferno began dropping down from the ceiling on silver ropes of web. Anna targeted a smaller one with a missile and it was dead before it hit the ground. The air seemed full of bulbous eyes and razor-tipped legs. The spiders must have sensed the destruction of their home and began to attack with the will of a cornered animal. Anna and Imoen stood back to back, the mage firing whatever spell she could think of and the thief her arrows. The spiders came swift and Anna feared running out of magic, so she took up her staff and began wildly pummelling any spider that came close.

"Cut off their legs!" Jaheira cried to the others while smashing her mace onto a spider's glowing eyes. Finn swung his sword low, crippling the arachnid he faced. It let out a scream that the other spiders echoed.

Anna suddenly felt a weight on her back. A spider jumped on her, but its target was Imoen. The girl let out a sharp cry as the beast's fangs bit into her skin. Almost immediately she went into a seizure, dropping to the ground and twitching in a grotesque manner. The beast turned to Anna. It sprung at her and knocked her off her feet. Anna grappled with its slashing legs, her attacker's weight too much for her. She needed both hands to keep the fangs away and could not cast a spell. Desperately she kicked and screamed but the beast was winning. In a final mad burst of strength she managed to reach the dagger on her belt and drove it into the creature's side. A gooey mass bubbled out and the spider struck at her harder. She pushed it off somehow and cried out a few words. Flames wreathed her hands and she placed them on the spider's body, cooking its soft insides within its leathery skin. It shuddered and moved no more.

In a daze Anna turned back to the battle. Quickly she went to Imoen laying unconscious from the poison flowing through her veins. From a small bag on her belt Anna took out a vial and carefully poured it down her throat. That should neutralize the poison's effects. She picked up her staff and moved in to help kill the remaining spiders. Finn saw her though and shouted at her to stay back. Anna stood guard over Imoen while Finn and the other warriors slew the last ones.

Once again the only sound to be heard was the falling water. The party took a moment to make sure that no more spiders remained alive while Jaheira saw to Imoen.

"You should take a healing potion," Finn said to Anna. Only then she noticed the cuts along her hands and arms where she spider's legs struck her.

"I'm all right, I don't want to waste one."

"Do it or Jaheira will fuss you to death."

"Good point."

She took another bottle from her pack and drank. A sudden warmth flowed through her and the sting of her wounds faded.


	5. Black Earth

The party moved back out of the cave and towards their starting point near the lift to regroup and take in some restless sleep. Imoen looked pale and tired; magical healing or no the effects of a giant spider's poison were not quick to fully wear off.

"I do not think we need explore that passage further," Jaheira said. "The kobolds would not stay close to the spiders and I cannot feel but they have some role to play in this mystery."

"How could the miners operate down here with those things on the hunt?" Anna shivered. She could still see the many eyes and hairy legs inches from her face.

"They could not. I think it likely that they came up from the further reaches of the caves recently. The miner's fires would have kept them away before that."

"So we're after kobolds again," Finn said. "There's only one passage left down here."

...

They worked their way down the final tunnel. It sloped downward and seemed to be part of a natural cave that the miners expanded and supported with beams. Imoen resumed looking for traps but her weariness was getting the better of her. Suddenly though she stopped, grabbing at the side of the cave to keep herself from moving forward.

"Stop, stop, there's something here."

Bending down to the dusty floor of the passage she pointed to a thin wire that stretched across the ground. Looking up she saw some well-camouflaged spikes that waited to make short work of a clumsy passer-by. Carefully, slowly, she cut the wire while maintaining its tension. She then was able to lower the spikes harmlessly to the floor.

"Nice work, Im," Finn remarked.

"Piece of cake," she replied, grinning. "There's books on everything in Candlekeep, you know?"

Searching ahead she found a second trap, and a third. The party were certain that there was something of value down the corridor, but that passage appeared to end in nothing as well.

"I don't believe it," Finn said. "What's with all the traps to guard a dead end?"

Anna sighed and leaned up against a rock. She felt something. Cold air was coming up from behind.

"I think there's a passage here," she whispered.

Removing rocks revealed a narrow horizontal crack in the wall. Finn knelt down and examined it.

"We'd have to crawl, but we could get through. What do you think?" he turned to Jaheira.

"There's no telling how far back it goes, or what might meet us at the end." She paused, thinking. "But it seems like our best chance so far."

"I don't want to go down there," Imoen said.

"None of us d-does," said Khalid, "B-but we n-need to f-find wh-wh-what's killing th-th…"

"Miners," said Finn.

"As Khalid says," said Jaheira, flashing a sharp look at Finn.

"Maybe I can scout on ahead," Finn offered. "See how far back it goes."

"A good idea," Jaheira agreed. "But I shall go with you."

The rest of the party had nothing to do but wait in the silence while the pair explored the tunnel. After what seemed like a very long time they came crawling out again.

"It's narrow but not impossible. We might find something down there," Finn said.

Anna noticed a patch of red dust on his mail sleeve. She wondered how dirt could cling in such a particular fashion and leaned in slightly to examine it. Finn saw her.

"What are you—_oh, hells!"_

Under his touch the red dust disintegrated, leaving a bare spot over his quilted jacket. The patch of mail had crumbled away as though a hundred years of time gnawed it in seconds.

"Bloody f—" he seemed ready to let loose but looked at Anna standing next to him and stopped. "It's the same thing that happened to your sword, Im. Rusted into nothing. _Damn it!"_

"Nothing we can do about it now, Finn," Jaheira said. "Let us hope the contagion doesn't spread to the rest of your armour."

"Yeah," he said, exasperated. "Come on, let's go. Watch your head," he said to Anna.

"Perhaps it opens up after awhile," Anna muttered, more to herself than anyone.

"Ok, then, if you all want to go. I'm sure not sitting here by myself!" Imoen exclaimed.

…

Finn took the lead, followed by Jaheira, Imoen, Anna and finally Khalid. Slowly they went on hand and knee, careful to avoid hitting their heads on the rock above. There wasn't room to wear their packs so they pushed them along ahead. No hasty exits from here, Anna thought. All previous feelings of claustrophobia seemed like nothing as they worked their way through the close tunnel. A panic began to grip Anna when she had to force herself through a gap that was barely wide enough for her body. The air grew hot with their breath and she wondered if there was any air in the passage. She could see little but her pack in front of her and the bottom of Imoen's boots. Her hands and knees cut and bruised from crawling over the sharp rocks, and their pace was interminably slow.

At last they reached the end. Crawling on their stomachs to get through another narrow crack they emerged into a cavern. Anna gladly breathed the cool air and never felt so grateful to stand up in her life. Looking around she noticed they were on a ledge, a steep rock face falling down some twenty feet to the floor of the cave. Along one side of the cave wall what looked like very narrow steps were cut into the stone.

"We'd never get down them," Finn said. "We'll have to climb."

He took a length of rope from his pack and securely fastened one end to a heavy rock. After pulling on it a few times with all his strength he seemed satisfied.

"Can you manage the rope?" he asked Anna.

"I guess I'll have to." Getting down was not so much an issue but she wondered if she had the strength to get back up again.

Climbing down proved trickier than she imagined. Her knees kept scraping on rock and her arms strained to hold her weight. Her hands, already sore from the long crawl through the tunnel screamed out in pain from the rough hemp of the rope.

Finn waited at the bottom and when she was near enough he reached up to help her down. As she clung to his shoulders his face had a mischievous grin that made her wonder if he'd been able to see up her dress.

...

At last they were all on the cave floor. Another passage yawned on the opposite end but thankfully it was high enough to let them all walk upright. They moved forward carefully as they passed through tunnels and other caves.

As they travelled through the timeless caves that all looked alike Anna wondered how long they'd been in the mines. Based on how often they'd rested she didn't think it was more than a day or so, but she had no way of knowing. Suddenly Finn halted and she snapped out of her thoughts. Out of the darkness in front of them a number of small red points of light appeared.

With a cacophony of yaps and barks a group of lizard-like creatures came charging out at them, the air whizzing with a volley of small arrows. Here at last were the kobolds.

"Watch out!" Finn called as he ducked behind a rock. Anna took shelter behind Jaheira as she raised her shield. A number of arrows tinked against the wood and fell to the floor.

Taking her chance Anna hurled a spell in the direction of the kobolds. Bright lights exploded above their heads with a series of cracks and pops. The confused kobolds shouted excitedly to one another in their doglike language. Finn jumped out of his hiding place and charged at them before they had a chance to return another round of missiles. The monsters were little match for his blade and he cut through them with ease.

"Gods, they seem so...pathetic," Imoen said after, looking at the bodies with their leathery skin and rough hide armour.

"Like I said before, not a threat," Finn replied.

"I don't mean that, it's just that they're so…small."

"Would you rather they were bigger?"

"No, no. I…never mind."

"It's never a pleasure killing an opponent so much weaker than oneself," Jaheira said. "But they would kill us if given the chance, and I say again that no enemy should be underestimated. But look here." She lifted a glass vial off of one of the kobolds. "What is this? The kobolds all seem to be carrying it."

Anna examined a vial but she couldn't positively identify the fine white powder. Turning the green glass she watched it glisten with a faint metallic sheen.

"I have no idea," she said slowly. "If I could study it I might be able to tell you more. It's not for healing. Is it typical of kobolds to carry such things about?"

"I've never h-heard of it," said Khalid, also examining one of the vials.

"It almost seems like a poison powder," Anna continued, sniffing lightly its acrid scent. "But the miners weren't poisoned. Who is it for?"

"Maybe we can solve the mystery on foot," Finn said. "I don't like hanging around in these caverns."

"Yes, let us move on," Jaheira answered.

Anna wrapped the vial carefully in a cloth and set it in her pack for a time when she could study it more thoroughly. She thought of her airy workroom at home, a distant memory in the darkness of the caverns.

...

Moving onwards she was alarmed when Finn and then Jaheira suddenly blinked out the lanterns. Slowly though she noticed that the cavern ahead was bright. Creeping forward they saw what looked like a small kobold campsite. A fire burned and kobolds milled around, some eating, some fighting with each other over little trinkets or bits of food, some apparently asleep. Fortunately they had not noticed the party.

"What have you got?" Finn whispered in her ear.

Anna thought a moment. "I could try to put them to sleep. Or cast a cloud of gas."

"Try sleep first. The gas would get to us too in this hole."

She had to move fast. Steadying her nerves she went to the edge of the cavern and entered the circle of light. The kobolds noticed her and called their alarm. She scattered dust that seemed to move with a will of its own and most of the kobolds keeled over where they stood.

The other party members moved in to fight off the ones left awake. Out of the corner of her eye Anna noticed one slipping off into the tunnel ahead. She sent a missile after it but it disappeared into the darkness. Anna cringed when she saw Finn killing the sleeping kobolds. He noticed her look.

"At least they go quickly."

"I think one got away," she said instead. "It'll bring re-enforcements."

"Yes, we must be very careful now," Jaheira replied.

…

Swiftly but carefully the party advanced through the caves that seemed to be widening as they went along. Water trickled down the cave walls and their feet splashed through stagnant puddles that gathered on the rock floor. Passages branched out in other directions but they decided to follow the main chamber before exploring any side-routes. They encountered a couple packs of kobolds but they were easily dispatched. Finally they came to a broad cave with pools of black water on either side of what resembled a walkway.

"Easy now," Finn said. This looked like a fine place for an ambush.

Sure enough, a group of kobolds were waiting for them. These were armed with arrows that burst into flame on contact, lighting up Khalid and Jaheira's shields where they struck. One kobold cast spells, his small paws bringing form to the air, shaping it with yapping chants. They managed to force their way through but not without taking burns and injury.

Something else was in the caves though, walking awkwardly out of the shadows. Anna smelled a rotten stench. A group of animated skeletons with bits of decayed flesh still attached to their unnaturally mobile limbs advanced towards them. Their nightmarish appearance made her hair prickle on her neck and Anna couldn't bear to look at them, but she fought the best she could. Strong wire gave their dead limbs strength but it also slowed them down, and their axe swings were stiff enough that Anna could easily duck out of their way.

"Undead!" Imoen called out in disgust after they'd despatched the creatures. "Gross. I've seen everything now."

Jaheira sighed as she helped heal the party. "If only that were true, child. Now hold still."

They moved on again. In the next cave a rough door stood fixed into one of the walls. Anna steeled herself, her heart flopping in her chest. Finn looked at the rest of the group, his face set. He threw open the door and a round of arrows flew out. On his count they all burst through to the other side.

...

They entered into a small cave-room light with torches. The kobolds there did not present much of a challenge, seemingly the feeble remains of their little army.

Even before the battle Anna noticed they appeared to be in some sort of laboratory. Not a tidy one however; alchemical equipment was haphazard across rough tables, with bags and boxes of components lying open and half-spilled on the floor. Papers were scattered here and there like they were blown by a breeze. Stacked along a shelf though were vials filled with the mysterious powder. Evidently they had discovered its source.

"So, you've found me at last. Well done."

A silken curtain slowly drew aside and a tall figure entered the room. He wore elaborate mage's robes that seemed incongruous for someone in such a rough place; swirls of gold covered the indigo fabric and a heavy jewelled belt hung low from his waist. In spite of his formal attire he had a greasy, unwashed appearance. He looked human but his brow was heavy and his skin had a ugly greenish-grey hue, his nose a pronounced pig-shape. A half-orc.

"Yeah, back-slaps all around," Finn said. "Now just who the hells are you, wizard?"

"Not the best mannered young man, are you?" the wizard cackled, but his eyes were wide.

"That depends on whether or not people deserve manners."

"Of course, of course. But the fact that you don't know me puts me more at ease. I thought for sure you were some of Tazok's men coming for me. Now I see you're just more fool adventurers."

"We've never heard of Tazok but I wouldn't check your fear just yet, wizard."

"And I wouldn't rely too much on bravado, but it's pointless to tell that to your kind. These kobolds gave me the chance I needed to prepare. Now, meet Mulahey's creations!"

The necromancer waved his hands and dozens of skeletons rose from the dust. Anna couldn't help but let out a frightened cry as they surrounded the party, grabbing at them as they forced their way out of the dirt. She jumped aside feeling the bone moving under her feet.

"Stand back to back!" Jaheira called out. "Don't let them separate us."

Everything blurred. These skeletons were stronger and faster than the ones out in the cave. Anna ran out of spells and was forced to grapple clumsily with them by staff. Once she slipped but Khalid came in between her and the violent swing of an axe. He grunted as the heavy blow glanced off his shield. His blade ripped through the creature's ribs, tearing it apart. The bones fell into the dust, their magic broken.

Eventually the last skeleton crumbled and the party was left bloodied and gasping for breath. They noticed Mulahey was not among them, apparently fleeing the battle from its start.

"There," Finn said low, pointing at the curtain with his sword. Taking up the severed arm of a skeleton he drew aside the fabric. A blast of heat came out, incinerating the silk and sending flames shooting through the laboratory. The party ducked to same themselves.

"Dammit!" Finn called out. Boldly he threw himself into the chamber. Jaheira muttered something and followed suit.

…

They paused though, taken by surprise at the sumptous room they entered. It looked like an eccentric Calishite pasha decided that caves were the new fashion in summer retreat—silks, tapestries and elaborate woven rugs decorated every corner. Mulahey crouched by the bed. His fear got the better of him and he clearly hadn't expected the group to survive the onslaught of undead he summoned.

"You live! Very good. You are marvellous warriors. I had to test you, you see." He shifted slightly. "You can help me. My…employers, through no fault of my own, I assure you, have decided that my work has been unsatisfactory. After I've been stuck down here with these yapping kobolds for months, too! You can protect me from them. I will pay you handsomely. Your kind always want money, don't you? You can see by my little sanctum here that I am not poor," he said, waving a well-jewelled hand at the finery.

"That depends, Mulahey," Jaheira said. "What exactly did your employers have you doing down here?"

"Ah! I'm glad you asked. A work of genius, if I do say so myself. I was charged with the incapacitation of this mine. With subterfuge, you understand. In my studies I came up with a certain substance that when applied to iron ore caused it to become rotten and brittle when forged. And yet, it was completely undetectable on the ore itself. Genius!" Mulahey laughed.

"You mean the powder in these vials?" Anna asked.

"Yes, exactly. A poison, a poison for iron! Who else could have thought of it? No one!"

Indeed, Anna thought. It would take some sort of mad genius to come up with something like this. No wonder she couldn't guess the powder's purpose.

"Looks like you did your job," Finn said. "So why do your employers want you dead?"

"It wasn't my fault, as I said," Mulahey continued. "The kobolds proved less reliable than I thought. Handy little workers but they couldn't resist killing off some of the miners. That brought the attention of the troops. My employers were concerned that our little operation here would be discovered. They have their reasons for wanting it secret, you know."

"Really. Tell us. I don't see why anyone would come up with such a scheme," said Finn.

"Of course you don't," Mulahey twittered. "You're not clever. Thinking isn't the strong suit of brutes. So, may I have your assistance?"

"Of course not," Finn answered coldly. "Did you really think you'd get it? Seems to me you're not the clever one here."

Mulahey went a paler shade of green. "I'm still a bit more clever than you, boy."

From under his robes he pulled out a wand and one swift motion later another group of skeletons appeared behind the party.

"That's the last time," Finn said. As Anna engaged the new attackers she heard Mulahey let out a horrible scream.


	6. Mutability

At last, it was all over.

"Have we done it?" Imoen asked. "We have! We won!"

"Request permission to look pleased, ma'am," Finn said to Jaheira.

"Suit yourself," she replied, trying but failing to keep the serious expression on her face.

Mulahey lay curled up in a ball, a patch of dark blood soaking the rug the only evidence of his wound through the heavy mage robes. Imoen cautiously went over to the dead wizard and removed his rings. Anna called over to let her examine the spellcaster's trinkets before she wore any of them; with all his spare time Mulahey surely must have enchanted a few items and there was no telling what effect they contained. She didn't much fancy being hit by a random spell whenever Imoen gestured, as she did when chatting excitedly.

Anna and Khalid searched through the dead wizard's papers in hopes of finding more evidence of his plan, or his mysterious employers. Amongst a random assortment of books they found a series of letters written in a rough hand and even rougher language that seemed to lend weight to his earlier words about his employers' growing dissatisfaction with his performance. They were all signed 'Tazok', but they told them no more than they knew about the people who hired Mulahey.

....

Anna wandered into the laboratory to have a closer look at Mulahey's equipment. The alchemist in her had an interest in his endeavours even if they had been put to bad ends. Finn soon followed her.

"What do you think? Pretty neat work," he said with a grin.

"Yes, I'm glad that this is over. Hopefully the mine can get back to normal now and the talk of war will fade."

"That too." He moved closer and leaned over her shoulder. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm just trying to see what Mulahey was getting up to here," she said. Having him leaning over her made it difficult to concentrate.

_"Hmm."_

He made a show of reaching around her, his hand heading towards a pile of unidentified powder on a scale. Without thinking Anna swatted his arm away.

"Don't! We don't know what that might be," she turned to him and realised he was smiling at her. They were almost in an embrace.

She felt irritated at his schoolboy manoeuvring and pulled away from him. Turning she noticed a low gap in the wall that she hadn't seen before. A tapestry covered the spot but she could see the black edges of a cave peeking out from the sides. She stared at it for a moment. Somehow, in the back of her mind, she thought she heard something calling from that gap. There were no words, but she could hear it nonetheless. She took a torch from the wall and without a word crawled down through the hole.

"Hey, where are you going?" Finn called, surprised. "Don't go down there." Anna heard him grumbling as he forced his tall body through the narrow gap.

…

On the other side a slope went downwards, and Anna's feet went slipping on clay slick as ice as she struggled to keep her footing. Reaching the bottom she held the torch up high to see the small cavern. The walls were damp and the floor sticky with thick mud that sucked on her boots. Finn slid down after her.

"What are you doing?" he asked again.

"There's something…_shh_."

They were both quiet but saw nothing. Anna began to think she'd imagined whatever it was she heard and felt foolish for hurrying into the cavern alone. Who knew what might've awaited her there? Then by the far wall she saw something moving slightly. Finn drew his sword. In the torchlight she could just make out a figure.

"Someone's down here!"

She dashed forward as best she could in the mud, Finn grabbing at her to hold her back but missing.

"Wait!" he cried.

She paused again and crept forwards more carefully, holding the torch out like a weapon. The figure didn't move. She set the torch by the wall and leaned over cautiously.

"What is it?" Finn asked, finally catching up with her.

His question was understandable; all that could be distinguished of the figure in that light were chained arms and a head. Its clothing was so encrusted in red clay that it looked part of the floor. Slowly though a dirty face lifted up to Anna and let out a quiet moan.

"It's an _elf_," Anna said in surprise.

"An elf?" Finn repeated. "These wizards collect any old junk. Why's he got an elf locked up down here?"

Anna didn't answer but instead muttered a spell. The elf's shackles opened and his arms fell limp to the floor. His head lolled back, that one movement seemingly too much for him.

"Help me get him out of here," she said to Finn.

She took his arms and helped him rise, pulling him up mostly with her own strength and marvelling at how light he was. He coughed and began rasping quietly in Elvish but then spoke in Common.

"_My sword_…" he breathed. "_I need…my blade_."

"Your sword?" Anna enquired. "It's alright, there's no danger anymore. You're safe."

"Hey, there's a sword in the mud there," Finn said. Anna saw the outline of a blade lying half-buried in clay. "Why would they leave him his weapon?"

He went to pick up the sword but the elf cried out with surprising energy.

"_Stop! _You…you mustn't touch it."

He pulled himself from Anna's grasp and fell to his knees. Thinking he'd collapsed she knelt to help him but he pushed her aside, rasping again in Elvish. He crawled through the mud, dragging himself towards the muck-encrusted blade. Anna and Finn glanced at each other but let the elf be. With an effort he reached for the sword but toppled forward instead.

He lay still in the muck, his body lying over the blade. Concerned by the elf's feverish behaviour Anna made a step towards him but he managed somehow to pull himself up, lifting the filthy sword from the mud. Anna watched his back wavering as he sat with the blade in his lap, holding it close like a lost child. Before she could think of what to do she heard her and Finn's name called from the cave entrance.

"Down here!" Finn cried. "We've found a prisoner."

The voices seemed to break the elf from his trance and he dragged himself to his feet, leaning on the blade for leverage. Stumbling he fixed it to his dirty belt. Finn went to the elf and he fell on him, drained from his effort, still muttering something about not touching the sword. Anna followed cautiously behind the pair as Finn helped the elf up the slope.

...

Gradually they got him back up out of the cavern, the other party members helping to drag the elf through the gap.

"Let me see him," Jaheira said.

"He is nearly starved but not very injured, I think," she concluded after applying her gifts. "His wounds have mostly healed, but he needs to get out into the air and sun. Elves need the light as much as food."

The elf seemed more alert after her healing and she gave him a drink from the wineskin. He made a face after tasting it but took a full swig. Anna wet a kerchief with water and knelt to wipe some of the dirt from his face. He made an irritated noise and took it from her, doing best he could on his own.

"That beast Mulahey is dead?" the elf rasped through the fabric. "Then you have done my work for me. I thank you." He took another swallow of wine. "And for the rescue." He let out a long sigh.

"Who are you, might I ask? And how did you come to be his prisoner?" Jaheira said.

"I was sent here to investigate the trouble at the mine. Unfortunately, I was ambushed," he sighed again. "It was inevitable. I did not expect to succeed."

He took another drink. "I am Xan, of the city of Evereska. What is the day?"

She told him the date and he blanched. "Have I really been in this hole for over three months now? I cannot say I'm surprised."

Anna had some experience with elves, but she found this one's manner unlike any she had known. She supposed it was the result of his imprisonment.

"It is strange that Evereskans should take an active interest in such a thing," Jaheira remarked.

"I agree. But come I did, all the same."

"Do you think you can walk out of here, Master Elf?" Finn asked. "If not it's going to be quite a ways to carry you out of this pit."

"And you would leave me down here to spare yourself the trouble, of that I have no doubt," the elf concluded with a cough.

"Don't be silly, we wouldn't do that," Imoen said. "But it is a long way out."

"Do you think Mulahey brought all this equipment down through the mines? There is another entrance not far from here."

"Then I vote we head for it," Finn said. "I've had my fill of this place for a long while."

"Wait till you've been under the hospitality of kobolds for a few months and see how you feel then," Xan said. "I don't suppose it's too much to hope that repulsive orc kept hold of my spellbook?"

"Yes, I did notice an Elvish spellbook amongst his things," Anna said. "I thought it a strange thing for him to own."

"Then he hasn't destroyed it in a pathetic attempt to break the wards? Remarkable."

He struggled to his feet and looked at his filthy robes with disgust. Using his dirty sleeve he tried to wipe the mud from the sword's hilt with limited success.

"Has that sword been down there as long as you?" Finn asked. "It must be rusted beyond use by now."

"That would be unlikely," the elf said dryly.

He drew the sword and Imoen gasped as the blade became wreathed in ethereal blue-white flame.

Finn whistled. "Alright, I'll admit that's a neat trick."

"Trick, indeed. It is a living moonblade, forged in an ancient elven kingdom and passed down through generations of my family. Though I shouldn't be surprised that you are ignorant of elven history."

The elf wobbled in his weakness but his voice betrayed his irritation at Finn's off-hand comment. He held the sword before him and regarded it with an expression of pride, but Anna imagined she saw a trace of fear pass over his pale face as it bathed in the light of the silent flames. Mud dripped from the large moonstone pommel gem and the blue stone began to glow with a strange light.

"I swear, if one more wizard insults me today…" Finn muttered. "I hate to disappoint you, but I have read of moonblades. This just happens to be the first one I've seen."

"Then I wish it could be in a better state," Xan sighed, deflating from whatever thoughts had taken him. "It will take me hours to clean this mud off the scabbard."

…

The sun was creeping westward when the party, plus one bedraggled elven wizard made their way out of Mulahey's hidden entrance into the fresh air of a land covered thick with pine trees.

"Corellon be praised," Xan said with much emotion, "I never thought I'd see the sun again."

"How long were we down there?" Imoen asked.

"Two days at least," said Jaheira, taking in her fill of the pine-scented breeze. "We should not linger here, though. There may be more kobolds in the mines. Which direction is Nashkel, Xan?"

He pointed out the way to his best recollection and the party started out to put the caves as far behind them as possible before night fell. When dark finally took them they had made camp in a secluded place by a slope covered in conifers. Xan managed to wash his cloak and robes in a stream after a fashion and they dried by the campfire. Seeing him in his elvish tunic and trousers made Anna even more alarmed for his health than before. He looked like the proverbial breeze might carry him away and he shivered even by the warmth of the fire.

He noticed her look. "If you are concerned about my well-being, my lady, you needn't bother. I assure you I spend enough time worrying about my health for the both of us."

Anna was stung by the elf's prickly demeanour but let it pass. "As you wish," she murmured in reply.

She took her spellbook from her pack and sat down to re-learn all the spells she spent the last day in the mines. The cool night air was such a welcome touch on her cheek though that she spent a few moments admiring the spring night. Xan broke into her meditation.

"Yes, I should see to my spells as well. I cannot tell you what a relief it was when I found that Mulahey hadn't used my grimoire for kindling to spite me. Although it would have been of little use to him even if he had broken the wards; I doubt one with his capacity could read Quenya."

"Why did he hold you prisoner for so long?" Anna asked. "I would have thought that he…well, he did not seem like the compassionate type."

"Indeed, if he were I almost think he should have finished me off after capture. Spending months in a dank hole at the mercy of kobolds is not my idea of compassion."

"No," she began, "but still."

He opened his mouth but paused.

"Perhaps he enjoyed the company," Xan said slowly. "He was forever bragging of his exploits, and I was the very definition of a captive audience. As a mage he thought in some addled way that we had something in common," the elf said in disgust. "I do not think his peers gave him much recognition. Not surprising, the man was thick as a stump."

"He surely had some skills," Anna said. "He was quite adept at summoning creatures, and he invented the iron poison."

"What, are you defending him? Regardless, I believe he inflated his talents. He did not invent the iron poison so much as put two and two together."

Anna made a sigh of her own and opened her book. She was beginning to think the elf's attitude had little to do with his capture.

Finn came to sit by her. "Your diligence is inspiring me, Anna! I'm thinking that I should start working on my magic again. Maybe you could let me see some of your spells?"

Xan spoke up. "You are a magic-user as well as a fighter? Yes, I thought I sensed an aura about you. If you are, though, you should know that mages do not swap spells as housewives do kitchen receipts. I doubt this lady will allow you to peruse her spellbook, I certainly would not."

"Really now?" Finn said. "But I hadn't asked you, I was asking the great sorceress of Beregost."

"Actually, Xan, I've found that housewives are tighter-fisted with their treasured receipts than mages are with their spells," Anna said, a twinkle in her eye. "If you're serious, Finn, I suppose I could copy out some spells, if we have the time. How skilled are you?"

"I've never had any complaints," he said with a saucy grin.

The elf rolled his eyes. "_Seldarine_. Are you from Beregost, Lady Anna? I never heard of any wizards of note living there. Just some hedgewitch selling potions by the roadside. I—oh," he stopped when he saw Anna's expression. "Er, my apologies."

"Not at all," she said coolly.

"Anna is a fine wizard," Finn said. "If not for her, you and I would probably be underground still."

Xan looked as if he were about to deliver another remark yet thought the better of it. He muttered something to himself in Elvish and said, "I am certain. I assure you, my lady, that I meant no offence."

Anna didn't respond and looked down at her spellbook without seeing it. Hedgewitch! Though she could hardly blame him. In a profession noted for its ambitious members her decision to live a quiet life in Beregost didn't speak well for her skills. Still, his words hurt.

Finn seemed to sense that he would get no further with her that night and left to harass Imoen. Anna and the elf spent the rest of the evening in silence.


	7. Glasses Raised, Decisions Made

"Wonderful! Amazing!"

The company stood in the home of Berrun Ghastkill, the mayor pouring over the evidence they gathered from the Nashkel Mine in disbelief. His smile remained stretched across his broad face long after they told him of their success in discovering both the cause of the miners' deaths and the iron disease.

"This is truly incredible. I thank you—Nashkel thanks you. In fact I'd go so far as to say the whole Sword Coast thanks you! You people are wonders. I'll report to the captain of the guards, and he will send down men to clear out the rest of the monsters. The mine should be up and running again within a tenday! In the meantime, I think a celebration is in order. You will all stay here, as my guests of course. Wine, and song! And more wine!"

He didn't wait for a response but went and called his servants to begin the festivities. He hurried back though and said, "Of course, of course, I'm getting ahead of myself! All this excitement. I'll have a servant make up the guest quarters for you, and we shall see to getting you some fresh clothes, and baths," He looked especially at the still-muddy Xan on the last point.

...

Anna didn't know enough of local history to say for certain but she wagered the mayor's celebration that night surpassed anything the village had seen before. Dressed in a borrowed blue dress she shook hands with seemingly all the residents of the village and whirled around the mayor's hall with half of them while local minstrels played tune after tune. Outside the common folk set up tables on the green and feasted and drank, buoyed by a gift of a cask of ale and several bottles of wine from the mayor's cellar. Bonfires and torches kept the village lit almost as day.

Not surprisingly Finn was man of the evening, dancing and laughing with a seemingly endless parade of pretty local girls who acted merry as possible for his benefit. Anna rolled her eyes at their shameless fawning, thinking heroes must be a rarity in that quiet place of farmers and miners. She felt unreasonably irritated by Finn and his court and found it harder to smile than she'd have liked when he finally took her hand.

The rest of the company shared in the fun excepting the freshly-scrubbed Xan, who spent most of the evening in a chair nursing a goblet of wine. She glanced his way from time to time and thought how out of place he looked in the whirl of gaiety. His brown hair became so matted and filthy in the mines that he was forced to cut it far shorter than was typical of elves, and it barely grazed his shoulders. Still he was handsome like all his kin, Anna thought, even though his expression usually strayed between a scowl and a resigned melancholy.

After a time she collapsed in a chair next to him, fanning herself with her palm. The musicians were taking a well-deserved rest and the crowd was singing songs.

"I don't think I've ever danced so much. I'm exhausted," she said to him with a smile. Perhaps he would be more sociable now.

"Hmm," he said, looking over his goblet at the crowd.

"I have not seen you on the floor," Anna continued, "Do you not care for dancing?"

"No."

Anna felt her face grow redder even through the heat of room and wine. Could this elf never be pleasant? Absently she looked around the room and noticed that Finn was nowhere in sight.

"The mayor surpassed himself tonight, hasn't he?" she found herself saying.

"Yes," Xan said slowly. "I imagine that the local paupers have emptied their larders for some time to put on this feast."

"Don't you think they have cause to celebrate?"

"Celebrate what? That they are once again free to break their backs in a dark pit for a few coppers? It does not seem worthy of celebration to me."

Anna said nothing. She didn't disagree with his point but she wondered why he needed to twist it in such a miserable way.

....

She was saved further conversational stalemates with the elf by an obviously drunken Imoen, who came up and lifted her out of the chair by both hands.

"C'mon, Anna!" she slurred, her cheeks pink. "Everyone's singing, I know you can sing, I heard you the other day. She can sing," Imoen repeated to a disinterested Xan.

"Wonderful."

Imoen dragged Anna up to the small dais that was set up for the occasion. The crowd cheered her on and she had to swallow her embarrassment. In a panic she wondered what to sing, but she drew a deep breath and began.

Anna wasn't operatic but she could cheerfully carry a tune and sometimes when mood took her she could deliver fine quality. Her song spoke of a traveller, far from home, longing for a distant love. The intoxicated crowd quieted as her tune went on. At first she focused her eyes on the wall as she sang but as her shyness wore off she began to look at faces. She saw Imoen with her drunken excitement. She saw Khalid and Jaheira, quietly holding hands. She saw Xan, his face motionless as he looked at the floor. And she saw Finn slipping back into the room, a rumpled lass clinging to his arm. His eyes met Anna's and a look of surprise came over his face. He tried to detangle himself from the girl, but it was too late. Anna looked quickly away.

The celebration showed no sign of letting up as the night crept into the morning but Anna lost her interest. Feeling deflated she said goodnight to the mayor and his wife and made her way up to her room. She didn't know why Finn upset her—there was no understanding between them and if he wanted to take every maid in Nashkel for a roll in the hay it was no business of hers. She was old enough to know what his suggestive looks at her meant, and she wasn't naïve enough to take them too seriously. But no man had looked at her that way in a long time. The promise stirred in her and now she struggled to let it go with a mixture of regret and anger at her own foolishness.

…

Golden sunlight through the windows woke her. The mayor's guest bed was comfortable and she slept hard even through her troubles and Imoen's stumbling into bed in the wee hours. Anna looked at her now, dead to the world with her mouth open slightly. Sleep well, Anna thought, you'll feel it when you finally wake.

Quietly she drew her brown overdress over her shift and laced the bodice tightly. She went downstairs to find most of the household still asleep. A tired-looking maid offered to bring her tea in the sitting room. Looking out at the world Anna was surprised to see Xan speaking to a man with a horse. He handed the man something who placed it in a pack before swinging up and riding swiftly away to the north. The elf came into the house and quietly went back upstairs. When the maid brought her tea she sat drinking in silence until Jaheira and Khalid came down a short time later.

"Y-you're up early this morning," Khalid said, friendly.

"The sun beckons," she replied with a small smile, giving a nod to Jaheira.

"Everyone else seems to have been too familiar with the wine last night," the druid said. "Well, it is the only celebration they have had in a long while, and it will likely be some time before they have a chance again." She placed the letters from Mulahey's cave on a table and re-read them.

"What are your plans now?" Anna asked.

"Mulahey's contact Tranzig may be in Beregost. Since the half-orc was only a pawn I feel that our work is not done. We need to find out more about who did this, and why."

"You'll be g-going back to B-Beregost with us, I assume?" Khalid asked.

"Yes, if you're going that way," Anna replied.

"You have done well, Anna, but there is no reason for you to accompany us further if you choose not to." Jaheira said.

"I'll go with you back home, at any rate," Anna said. Not for the first time did she get the feeling that she wasn't entirely welcome in Jaheira's eyes.

...

The household didn't really materialise until the noon meal. Anna ate spiced frumenty and bacon. Imoen looked green and nibbled at bread and ale. Finn was quiet and avoided looking at Anna. Xan was just quiet, lost in his own thoughts.

"We thank you for your hospitality, Mayor," Jaheira said, finally. "But we must be off soon. Word of our deeds will spread and we have other business to attend to."

"So soon? Surely you can stay a few days longer, my friends. The fair is still in town and I do not feel that I've properly thanked you for all that you've done for us."

"You are kind, sir. But we must march this afternoon."

Imoen groaned and put her head on the table.

....

When they withdrew Xan pulled Jaheira aside.

"You are planning on pursuing those who orchestrated these troubles, are you not?"

"Indeed, we are."

The elf looked like he made an effort to straighten himself and spoke.

"Then I would ask if you would allow me to accompany you. I'm certain you have no liking for me on a personal basis, but my orders were to investigate this mystery and as far as I know that has not changed. I figure that I have a slightly better chance of doing this in your company than on my own." He sighed. "Although our chances of success are extremely small, no matter what."

"Are you strong enough, Xan?" Finn asked. "You look like you'd pass out on a march."

"I'm certain I do, yet somehow I remain standing. And my spells may be of some use to you." He wiped his nose with a kerchief. "Possibly."

"It is up to Finn," Jaheira said.

"I guess you can join us, if you don't think I'll end up with you in my pack less than a league out of Nashkel. Besides, we might need a spare spellcaster soon," he said, looking at Anna.

"_Ohhh_, can't we stay here for awhile?" Imoen drawled. "Or go ahead, and I'll catch up with you. In a few years."

"If you had not been so immoderate last night you would not feel so poorly now, child," Jaheira said.

"I'll admit I'm not feeling too much up to a march myself," Finn said. "Let's look into hiring some horses. We have our reward money now. It'll get us to Beregost faster, too."

Even for the heroes of Nashkel hiring horses proved difficult. There were few beasts in the town up to the journey and those that did have them were reluctant to see them go. Eventually they managed to procure four, with Khalid and Jaheira, Anna and Imoen having to double up on the mounts. At last they were on their way north.

Anna took up the reigns of their horse and said to Imoen, "If you feel ill, for the love of the gods lean out, far out!"

…

With all the delay they couldn't expect to make it back to Beregost that night, even on horseback. Still they set off on a good trot towards the town. Imoen was silent for perhaps the first time in her life and Anna was glad of the quiet that allowed her to think. She looked at Xan riding ahead of them, his eyes searching the countryside for trouble while he wiped his brow. 'Hedgewitch', he called her. It stung. But he was right, wasn't he? All her training in the arcane art for her to become the local potion seller in a little back-country town. Maybe she was too comfortable. She hadn't written to most of her contacts in years, but maybe they had some position for her, somewhere more cosmopolitan. And yet, here she was. The odds were against them and looking at the mismatched group she knew they could still use what help she could provide.

After a few hours riding they stopped to wind the horses. Xan sat down hard on a log and gave out a loud sigh.

"Are you well?" Anna asked, a little warily after his outburst the other day.

He wiped his brow and took a drink from his waterskin. "No, but I will manage, thank you. As you may know it takes time to recover from being held prisoner underground for months. Actually, I doubt you do know, and I hope you never have a chance to discover it for yourself," he added.

Anna took a sip of water and a thought passed her. Did the elf know about Finn's bounty? She was reluctant to bring it up but he had a right to know, and she didn't want him to find out the same way she did.

"Xan," she said quietly, "There's something you should know."

He turned to her and she noticed his elvish eyes had a silvery-grey colour like the moon. They were intelligent, she thought, but there was a sadness in them.

"Well, it's Finn. He's—"

"Overindulgent at parties?"

Anna could not help laughing a little. "No. Well, yes. But that doesn't need mentioning. Someone is after him, and we're not sure who. I thought you ought to know."

"Ahh…you're speaking of Finn's bounty, I take it?"

"You know?" Anna asked.

"I do. Jaheira told me before we entered Nashkel. She thought I should be prepared for trouble." He sighed. "It's not unexpected. Even my rescues do not come with strings unattached, it seems. Regardless, I have a mission to complete and as you have been kind enough to point out I am not in the best of physical conditions at present. It does not please me to travel with a marked party, but on balance I still have the best chance of doing my duty and escaping this mess with my head still attached if I stay with Finn." He sighed again. "Although we are most certainly doomed, either way."

Travelling with this elf did not make the clouds part in the sky, Anna thought.


	8. Deceptions

Early next morning the company finally approached Beregost. Anna was in good spirits at seeing the familiar humble farms and the outline of hills along the road.

"Jaheira," she called over, "what say you to stabling our horses outside of town? A farmer who lives near is known to me and would care for them well. We could enter Beregost more quietly on foot."

"That seems wise. I did not look forward to leaving these poor creatures at the hands of the stableboys at an inn."

....

Horses stabled they walked the last mile to Beregost. Although she'd only been gone a short while Anna found herself looking around the sleepy town for any signs of change. The houses of timber and stone still sat as they were along the cobbled streets, and here and there a maid could be seen polishing the windows on those wealthy enough to boast glass. Merchants still swept the doorways of their ever-emptier shops and Anna raised a hand in greeting to a few. They gave her strange looks in reply when seeing her company, but thankfully none pressed the matter.

Housewives and farmers went about their business and a few children hurried by, laughing as they chased a wooden hoop they drove with a stick. The chimney over a blacksmith's shop was still idle though, with the rusted remains of an anvil sitting with other rubbish in the alley. A group of women were gathered around the town fountain as usual, and the carved lions listened mutely to the gossip as they had for generations while the women collected their morning's water or washed clothes in the pool.

Everything seemed the same with Beregost, bar one jarring detail. They discovered with surprise that Flaming Fist mercenaries had established a makeshift base in the town, and their red colours were everywhere on the streets. Speaking with a mercenary Finn found that the Dukes of Baldur's Gate had finally heard enough of bandits killing merchants and sent the group south to patrol the trade-way. One Officer Vai even sought adventurers to help deal with the trouble, and would pay good money for proof of brigands' demise.

"Surely such an open call could lead to abuse," Anna worried. "I hope that none of the locals find their scalps presented as bandits'."

"Still, it's a way to make some gold," Finn said. "If the opportunity presents we'll take advantage of it."

"I would not have thought that one with a price on his head would be so eager to collect the gold on another's," Xan said. "But the power of money has a way of polluting men's thoughts, I have noticed."

"How does it pollute to claim the reward from a good deed? Would you have us give back the money we earned in Nashkel, too?"

Xan sighed. "No. But you miss my point. Never mind. You will do as you wish, I am sure."

"I think I see your point, Xan. You see the irony in my going after bandits with my current situation, and so do I. Give me a little credit. But I don't like how you're implying that we're somehow the same. I'm not a criminal, elf."

"I did not say that you were, human." Xan snapped back. "I only meant—"

"Fellows, please…" Anna said. The conversation was increasing in volume and she was worried that stray ears might pick up more than they wished.

"Yes, let us move on," Xan said with a scowl.

.....

Tranzig's letters implied he stayed at Feldepost's Inn, and Anna offered to go in ahead of the others. Landlord Feldepost wasn't a close friend but they were known to each other and she thought she had the best chance of getting information out of him alone.

The tavern of the inn was empty that hour of the morning and only a few of Feldepost's servants were about. Anna felt a stroke of luck when she saw his wife Lucy behind the bar. Lucy suffered from headaches and Anna found a blend of tea that seemed to all but cure her, turning Anna into one of the landlady's favourite people. Lucy looked up with a smile as Anna approached the bar.

"Why, if it isn't Mistress Anna! A surprise to see you here, it's not a market day. Old Maya was telling everyone that you set off with some adventurers heading south and she nary expected to see you again. I thought it was a daft tale, not something our Anna would do. Glad to see I was right."

Anna felt alarmed. What rumours was Maya spreading? But she swallowed it and carried on with her business.

"Well, I was doing some travelling, but that will keep for now. I need to ask you a favour, Lucy," she said in a low voice.

"Oh, aye?" she put down her rag and leaned in.

"Yes. Has there been someone by the name of Tranzig staying here? It's likely he would come and go."

"Tranzig?" she asked. "No one by that name that I've heard of. But you mention it, there has been a queer fellow. Gave his name as Marker. Takes his meals in his room and stays out of the tavern. He'll show up for a few days, then leaves for a tenday or more. He must travel about a good deal. Reckon that could be him?"

"It's possible. Is he here now?"

"He's here, aye. What do you want with this fellow?"

"We think he might have some information we need," Anna said without thinking.

"We? So ye _have_ been out with some adventurers? And I never thought I'd be surprised again. Is he dangerous? I can have the guard brought in."

"We just want to talk with him for now. What room does he stay in?"

Lucy paused. "I'll tell you, Anna, but I don't want any trouble here. I trust you, but some of these adventuring folk'll turn a place upside down to get at a flea, and we run a respectable house."

Anna felt guilty, remembering the innkeep at Nashkel. And Lucy was a friend.

"We'll try, Lucy. I give you my word on that. It might not even be the man we're looking for."

"Alright, then."

...

Anna went back outside to gather the rest of the group. Before they went in though she made a plea.

"Please, Finn, everyone, this inn is run by friends of mine. Promise me you won't do anything…rash…unless it's absolutely needed."

"Do you think I'd do different?" Finn said.

"Perhaps Anna is right," Xan said, "This may be more a matter for the guards."

"If the guards come in we might never get a chance to talk to him. You can bet they won't stay their hands if he puts up a fight. We'll talk to him and we'll hand him in. Now we need to act before he gets wind that people're looking for him and bolts."

Anna was not convinced but there was little she could do except follow the group upstairs. A maid was busy airing linen in one of the rooms. Anna held up a hand to stop the others.

"Have you done up the last room on the right?" Anna asked the maid quietly.

"No, miss," the girl answered.

Hastily conferring with the maid Anna removed her cloak and robe and donned the girl's leather apron.

"What're you doing?" Finn hissed.

"Getting him to open the door, hopefully," she whispered back.

....

She picked up a pitcher of water and went up to the last room, her heart pounding. She rapped lightly on the door. "It's the maid, m'lord," she called in response to the query behind the door, trying to keep her voice cheerful.

The door unbolted and a bearded man peered out.

"Maid? I don't recognise you."

"I be Nell's cousin, m'lord," she said, her eyes cast down and her voice sweet. "Nell's took with the grippe today. Right ill, she is. Landlord said I could work for her wages."

Nell had a habit of falling victim to a suspiciously colourful variety of illnesses, Anna knew, and she desperately hoped he hadn't seen her today.

"Well, if you're Nell's cousin then you're a sight better looking than she is. All that red hair, ugh."

Anna's ruse paid off for Marker opened the door and allowed her to enter. Her heart still jumping she put the pitcher on a table as casually as possible and opened the curtains wider to let in more light. She then began to draw up the bedlinen.

"I think I have seen you in town, or somewhere," he went on.

He cocked his head slightly, looking at her. Anna tried to keep her back to him, frightened that he might recognise her for who she was. But she had an idea. Turning to him and said with a smile, "Perhaps you've seen me with Mulahey, m'lord."

"I—what?" The look on his face betrayed the connection. "What do you know, wench? I'll have it out of you, I swear—"

His words cut off and he froze like a statue. Xan walked in to the room, followed by Finn.

"I'd tie him up quickly if I were you," the elf said. "That spell won't last long. Anna is lucky it held at all, his hand is on a dagger. It was foolish of you to come in here on your own," he said to her.

"Foolish maybe, but it worked," Finn said. "Now help me!"

....

They forced his stiff body into a chair and bound him securely. In a moment he came around and launched a volley of expletives at the group.

"Calm yourself, Tranzig. I believe that is your name, yes?" Jaheira asked.

His only answer was spit in her direction. Finn moved to strike him but Jaheira put her hand up.

"It will interest you to know that Mulahey is dead, Tranzig," she went on. "We know that you were the go-between for him and his employers. It would be wise for you to give us the information on them that we need."

"Fuck off, you whore," he growled. "I'll tell you nothing. If they found me it'd be worse than anything you'd do to me."

"Are you sure about that?" Finn stepped in and leaned over Tranzig.

The prisoner looked up at him with anger, then slowly his face showed signs of fear. He regained himself though and let out another burst.

....

Xan sighed. "This is pointless. He will tell us nothing without torture, and we promised to make as little mess as possible here. Let me see him."

Tranzig glared at Xan as he put his hands onto his head.

"And what are you going to do, mule-ears?"

Xan didn't answer but locked eyes with the prisoner. Tranzig shuddered and tried to look away but the elf held his gaze. After a moment Xan spoke.

"You will tell me what I want to know," he said in a level voice.

Tranzig made an unintelligible noise and twitched, but seemed unable to break his gaze.

"Tell me of Tazok. Where is he?"

A bit of drool came out of Tranzig's mouth and he grunted again.

_"N-no…"_

"Tell me," the elf continued calmly. Anna could not bear to see Tranzig's eyes. They were vacant and frightened-looking.

_"Coast…No…"_ He shuddered violently and Xan stared harder into his eyes. _"House…Light."_

He jerked again like a man stabbed. The exchange continued and finally Xan sighed and broke his gaze, letting Tranzig's head limp forward.

"He knows little," he said, rubbing his eyes. "His employers have covered their tracks."

"Gods, Xan, I hate to think of you using that trick on us," Finn said with a look of disgust. "Do you think we can find this Tazok from what he told us?"

"Would pummelling him until he gave in be more to your tastes? He mentioned a lighthouse. Possibly that is their rendezvous point."

"Is he going to be alright?" Imoen asked. "I know he's bad and everything, but…"

"You people do pick your moments," Xan said. "But yes, he will be fine. A headache but nothing more."

"What do we do with him now?" Anna asked.

"Now we can turn him in to the guards," Jaheira said. "But first it would be wise to see if anything of relevance is in his room."

....

A search revealed letters from Mulahey desperately pleading his case and letters to Tranzig from Tazok which had a frustrating lack of detail. Stuck in between them though was a slip of printed paper:

"_Let it be known that a BOUNTY has been issued for the capture of one Finn of Candlekeep, DEAD or ALIVE. Reward Price, 500 gold pieces. Known to be in the company of one Gorion, aged human mage. Bounty collected from Marker in Beregost…_"

"This man put out my bounty? Why?" Finn asked.

He looked dumbfounded and read the paper over and over as if he could not quite believe it.

"Strange," Jaheira muttered. "But I should also like to know how this ties in with the business at the mines."

"When he wakes up, I'll be sure to ask him," Finn replied.

....

Heavy footsteps in the hall interrupted the group. Two Beregost guards came into the room, followed by the landlord.

"You'd better have good reason for barging into my inn and taking my customers hostage, Mistress Anna," Feldepost fumed. "Not exactly good for business this is."

"We have reason," Anna replied. "This man, Tranzig, is part of a plot. He and his compatriots were behind the iron crisis."

"What? Him?" the landlord was incredulous.

"We'll take him into custody and work out what crimes, if any, this man is guilty of," one of the guards said.

They released him from the chair and he moaned as he was lifted to his feet.

"B-be c-careful," Khalid said. "H-he's…"

Tranzig made a last effort at freedom. Snatching a dagger from one of the guards he burst through the door and ran down the hall. In his disoriented state he stumbled and fell onto his face. He groaned and a pool of blood appeared under him. The dagger pierced his stomach, and he was dead in moments.

"No!" Finn shouted.

He clenched his teeth and put his fist into a wall in frustration.


	9. Comforts of Home

Maya's plump hands never stopped working as she clucked at Anna like a scolding mother hen. Providing room and board for five stray adventurers didn't appeal to the titan of thrift. Anna smiled inwardly and eased her hand towards a wayward raisin that escaped the bowl for the temporary security of the kitchen table. Maya's hands left her pastry pin for a split second while she plopped the fruit back into place. Better luck next time, thought Anna wryly.

"I know coin is light these days, but they are guests," Anna said, contenting herself with a scrap of crust. The household was in no danger of ruin but to Maya all hung by a slender thread. "It wouldn't do not to show proper hospitality."

Maya eyed her sternly. "You're not trying that one, miss. Them folk will be more than enough to keep tongues here wagging." She sighed with the weight of the universe. "But it'll never be said that a body goes hungry at my table, queer adventurers or no. Just as well, that one lad looks fit to fade away. He's an elf though, probably too busy dancing or summat to take notice of mealtimes."

Anna choked on her piecrust. Any stranger looking at the abundance of food that baked, bubbled and roasted in the steaming kitchen might've casted doubts on the housekeeper's protests of poverty. Maya spoke more with her hands than her heart, and her joy at seeing Anna returned whole and hale expressed by a table fit for a king.

The back door opened and a straw-haired girl of twelve entered, gingerly carrying a jug of cream.

"Girl, where have you been? That duck's getting singed. I've only got two hands here," Maya said.

"Sorry, Gran," the girl drawled. "But Marco's dad's got a _mule_. I didn't believe him, _I _said it were just a horse. But he has. Ten feet high, it is!"

"I don't care if he's got a ruddy unicorn, Sophie! What's he want with a mule, anyway, oxen aren't good enough fer him? Bah, Farlen always was one for show. Never seen a farmer put on so many airs. Get the custard on, love."

"I'll see to it, Sophie," Anna said. Sophie was a pleasant little urchin but cracking eggs wasn't a particular skill of hers.

"Now, I'm not having ye work here when there's company about. Go and see to them odd folk in the other room. You might check that the silver drawer's locked, too. Just give it a little tug. Can't be too careful," Maya said.

Anna couldn't resist giving the housekeeper a little peck on the cheek as she went by.

"None of that," the matron said, but a smile crept onto her ample face.

...

The next night Anna sat in her chair by the firelight, full to bursting from another feast of bounty. Finn sat near her, staring into the fire. He said very little since Tranzig's death the day before. She wanted to talk with him but left him to his own thoughts. He would speak when he was ready.

Xan also sat near the fire. He leafed through the pages of one of Anna's books though he didn't really seem to be reading. Imoen and Khalid were engaged in a friendly game of chess and Jaheira, who examined some maps, looked up at them and commented from time to time. Anna felt an itching need to talk to someone, about anything. Finn was immobile so she made Xan her unlikely target.

"So, you are from Evereska?" Anna asked. "It must be an incredible place."

Xan seemed oddly startled by the comment. "Yes," he said slowly. "That would be putting it mildly."

"Your family will be happy to hear from you. They must have worried that you were gone so long."

"I have very few family left in the city," Xan replied.

"Oh. Still, they will be glad to hear from you." Anna said. Never in her life had she felt that conversation was such a dangerous road as she had in the past tenday.

"Yes, I suppose they will," he sighed.

Anna was quiet, but unexpectedly Xan continued.

"I notice that you do not live with your family."

"Maya's like family now. My father was the only kin I had here, though, and the others are either in Cormyr or back in the Dales."

"How did you come to be so far from your home?"

"Father was a mage and travelled around a fair deal. I was his apprentice and often travelled with him. He settled in Beregost to conduct some research. That was nearly ten years ago now."

"And he is—not here, I take it."

"No…" Anna said. "He was called back to Cormyr by his family, and died in a battle." She was quiet for a moment. "He was too old to be fighting, but he went anyway. They needed his help. I wanted to go too, but he wouldn't let me."

"Ah."

Anna felt emotion creeping up, but suddenly laughed to herself.

"Forgive me, but I miss the humour."

"Oh, it's just that every conversation I have lately seems to take a grim turn, whether I want it to or not." She laughed again.

"You were the one who brought up families. Although I have been accused of such things myself," he added.

"I suppose I am the one to blame for that," Finn spoke up. The mages turned to him.

"It's hardly your fault," Anna said. "You've been through some terrible things recently."

"And the people who caused them are out there somewhere. I don't want to sit around here, I want to do something."

"Jaheira thought everyone could use a short rest," Anna answered.

"Indeed," Xan said. "Sometimes it is better to withdraw and regroup than to be constantly pushing forward."

"I thought you'd be keen to head out too, seeing that your organisation charged you to investigate the troubles," Finn said.

"My organisation?"

"You're a Greycloak, aren't you?"

"I am," Xan said, surprised. "How did you know about us? I did not think the workings of my city were common knowledge in the human lands."

"I grew up in one of the great libraries of the world. Believe it or not, I didn't just flirt with the milkmaids the entire time."

"Just ninety percent of the time," Imoen called over, apparently listening in on the conversation.

"Don't listen to her," Finn said to Anna. "It was more like sixty percent. Seventy, tops."

Anna shook her head but couldn't help laughing.

"Your being a Greycloak explains more what you were doing down that mine," Finn continued. "Though exploring it solo wasn't the best idea. Do they often send you out on your own?"

"It depends," he said slowly. "Although you can give me some credit for not wandering into the Nashkel Mine looking for trouble. I was exploring the area when I was ambushed."

"Still, I'd have thought they'd send someone out looking for you when you didn't report back after awhile."

"We are expected not to need nursemaiding on our missions," Xan said rather sharply. It seemed Finn touched a nerve with the elf.

So Xan was a Greycloak, Anna thought. She'd read some about the elven agents that protected the secluded elven city, but couldn't help thinking that moonblade or no the frail elf didn't seem like the best choice for such a dangerous duty.

"Tell us about Evereska, Xan," Imoen said. "I read that there's a crystal tower there, and that things can float in the city. I'd love to see it."

Xans mouth opened slightly and he stiffened in his chair.

"Doubtless, but few humans are allowed beyond the city gates. Forgive me, but I would rather not speak of the city with strangers."

He turned back to his book and Imoen looked slighted but she tossed her head and focused on the chessboard.

"You must miss it," Anna said.

"Yes, very much."

His eyes wandered to the elvish amulet resting around Anna's neck. She had seen him looking at it before. She removed the jewel and placed it onto the open page of the book in his lap.

He seemed a little surprised but took up the amulet in his hands, caressing the silvery metal with his fingers.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"It was my mother's. She found it in the woods near her home when she was young."

"In Cormanthor? You said you were from the Dalelands."

"Yes."

"It's a pretty thing, just a bauble though. No heavy enchantments," Xan said thoughtfully.

"No. Its only magic is that it belonged to my mother," Anna smiled.

"I suppose it is." He turned the amulet over in his hands and gave it back to her.

"I've been making some potions," Anna said to Finn. "They will be ready tomorrow. We could leave anytime after that."

"We? Do you mean you're coming with us?"

"If you still want me to."

"Yes, of course!" A broad smile stretched across Finn's face. "That's great."

Anna smiled back at him and looked at the fire. It felt good to finally make a choice. She knew in her heart that she had to continue on, no matter what would come.

...

Later than evening she slipped into the kitchen. Maya sat by the fire, humming to herself while she mended Anna's cloak. She looked up when the mage entered.

"You said there was kobolds down the mines. Didn't realise they had a fondness for wool. Looks like they took a few bites out of the hem here."

Anna smiled and went to sit at the housekeeper's feet.

"I don't suppose you'll be needing it straight away?"

She peered at Anna over the tops of the spectacles she wore sewing.

"Well…" Anna said quietly.

"So. They've got you collared again, have they?" If Anna didn't know better she'd swear that the housekeeper's lip wobbled.

"No one's 'collared' me, Maya. This is my choice."

"Aye. Aye. And I don't suppose that fine young man had anything to do with your choice, did he?"

"Maya! I'm not that foolish."

"No, I suppose not. I'm sorry, miss. But I wish you'd think of your life here before going running off with these fools again."

"I'll see to Tom Wentway tomorrow. I have more elixirs to give him. Hopefully it'll tide him over until I get back."

"I don't give a toss about that old fishwife," Maya fumed suddenly. "I'm talking about your _life_. What happens when you go and get yourself killed? All right, you played the hero and made it back in one piece. That's better than most folks manage. Take that and be done with it. Don't be a fool, girl."

Anna opened her mouth to reply but shut it again. Maya's plump hands forcefully drove the needle through the wool, her mouth a tight line.

"They need me," Anna said finally. "This is important."

"They don't need you. Not like you need to keep breathing. I don't know what's got into you. You'll drive me into the grave, you will."

Her eyes glistened in the firelight. Anna laid her head on her knee and felt Maya's hand stroking her hair.

"I'm sorry," she said into her skirts. "I'll come back. I promise."

"Less you're a god you can't promise a thing like that. But you'll have your way, I suppose." Her hands went back to her mending.


	10. The Hunter

The road west curved through a landscape of rolling woodland towards the sea. The only lighthouse in the region had been a ruin for many years and its position marked only on old maps. Anna walked quietly; the trees there had a much different feel from the pleasant glades around her home. It was a dense old forest of twisted, knobbly wood, the kind that always featured in her nurse's bedtime tales of the fey folk.

The atmosphere wasn't improved by the steady rain that settled in over the region. Her woollen cloak grew sodden and heavy and she wished she'd thought to waterproof it before she left Beregost, but Anna didn't want to press Maya any more than necessary. The housekeeper had been grimmer than she'd ever known her this past day.

....

A chill, damp night awaited them. Anna's skin felt cold and clammy in her wet clothes and she could almost hear Maya's voice predicting her impending collapse into illness. Her mage robe kept some of the water at bay but even that had its limits and the garment began to cling like wet silk. Her hose and skirts kept sticking to her legs and she seriously considered wearing trousers.

After repeated attempts with the flint and steel Anna had to use a spell to get the wet firewood burning but they still struggled to keep it alight through the wind and rain. A woodpigeon fell to Khalid's arrow and the hot broth tasted like heaven in the cold night. Anna studied her spellbook hunched over to keep water dripping onto the pages despite the oilskin tarp they set up to keep some of the rain off, and on her watch she sat stomping her feet to get her circulation up in defiance of whatever might hear. She was glad when the grey morning finally came.

....

As the morning wore on the rain ceased but the sky remained a solid sheet of grey and the air stayed chilly. Ghosts escaped the party's mouths and flew off silently into the forest. The terrain rose and their pace slowed as they picked their way over the rocky hills, the old and disused road becoming scarcely more than a break in the trees. The calls of strange beasts drifted over the hills from time to time but they still travelled unmolested.

Suddenly the peace of the forest was shattered by sharp cries in the distance. Somewhere to their left the sounds of battle could be heard, but strangely they finished nearly as soon as they had begun. Swiftly and cautiously the party moved towards the now-silent cries; if there was danger they were better off finding it before it found them.

Anna hitched up her muddy hem and tread lightly as possible but it seemed every twig in creation arranged itself under her feet and she cringed every time she heard a loud snap. Up ahead the trees were thinner and she saw grey sky. Khalid made a signal and Anna came to rest behind a tree, one eye peeking out. Khalid, Jaheira and Finn moved slowly towards the clearing. After a moment Anna heard them talking and moved closer.

Lying around a campfire were the bodies of four orcs. They lay stuck with arrows but there was no obvious sign of a battle. Khalid plucked an arrow and said something to Jaheira that Anna couldn't hear. Xan went into the clearing and Anna followed him.

"These orcs were practically killed before they drew their swords," Finn said. "You think it's elves?"

"Th-these are elvish arrows," Khalid answered.

"How can you tell elvish arrows from any other kind?" Imoen asked.

"He is right," Xan said. "They are finer than the arrows normally used by _N'Tel'Quess_. My kin's work, certainly."

The enchanter looked around and called out in Elvish to the trees. Anna started as suddenly a man appeared from nowhere at the edge of the clearing. The apparition walked silently up to them, clutching a bow in his fist.

He was tall for an elf, with long, roughly-trimmed hair of raven black that was braided back from his face. Stripes of what looked like blue dye or paint marked his skin and made his ragged animal hide clothing seem even wilder. An elvish cloak of greenish-grey that seemed out of place with his other clothes draped around his shoulders. He had a fine, proud face but it carried a sternness that made the enchanter look cheerful by comparison.

_"Mae govannen, Quessir. Manke naa lle tuulo'? Mankoi naa lle sinome?"_ Xan said with unusual warmth.

_"Mae govannen," _the elf replied in a gruff voice.

He said nothing else though, his eyes flitting over Xan and the others in the manner of an animal sizing up an offer of food from a strange hand. The enchanter noticed the look with some surprise but the new elf continued.

_"Amin naa Kivan tuulo' Tel'taure Shilmista. Amin fara saura'orqur."_

The two elves conversed for a few minutes, and Anna did not need to hear the snippets she picked up to gather that the new elf was a ranger and a hunter. She heard the name Shilmista repeated; if this elf was from that far-off wood then he had travelled a long way to hunt his quarry.

......

Finally Xan spoke to the group. "This kinsman is Kivan, from the forest of Shilmista to the south. It appears he is seeking the same group we are and has found them equally elusive. He would be willing to assist us in our search, if you wish," he said to Jaheira.

"Anyone who can single-handedly take out a fistful orcs before they knew what hit them is welcome with us," Finn said. "If he's hunting the same bandits we are then so much the better. Does he speak Common, Xan?"

"Yes, o_htar_, I can speak your tongue," Kivan replied with a strong elvish accent.

"Great!" Finn said. "Welcome aboard. Have you seen any other orcs in the area?"

"None. I followed these _orqur_ from the north. I know some of their foul speech and learned that they looked to meet others south and west of here. They sought _kalmindon_. I do not know the word in your tongue."

"A lighthouse," Xan said. "They must seek the same place Tranzig mentioned."

He rested his hand casually on his blade and the new elf regarded it with interest.

_"Megil Tel'ithil?" _the new elf asked.

_"Uma," _Xan said. "You know of the blades, _Quessir?_"

"Yes, I have heard many tales of their wielders. Though we are not of the same tribe I greet you as lord."

He touched his forehead and bowed formally. Xan looked surprised again by his kinsman but bowed and spoke polite words in return. Imoen let out a loud giggle at the scene that she tried and failed to stifle behind her fist. The new elf stared at her.

"_Hem. _How is it that you're looking for these goons, too?" she said, turning a bit pink. "That's awfully lucky."

"_I'moruuvanimo_ took something very precious to me. Shevarash willing I will find him and take his heart."

_"Ooh-kay,"_ Imoen said, shrinking back somewhat from the iron gaze.

"Perhaps we should be moving on," Jaheira said. "There will be time for conversation later."

"Yeah," said Finn. "Have you got your pack somewhere, Kivan?"

"I do not burden myself more than I must. All I need I carry on me now."

"You're smarter than the rest of us, then," Finn laughed.

....

They waited while Kivan recovered his arrows from the orcs' bodies and set off back towards the trail. The ranger and Xan walked alongside one another, speaking quietly in their tongue. Anna enjoyed hearing the silvery language but soon realised that Xan was talking about the party to the new elf. Not really wanting to overhear his opinions of them she quickened her pace and walked alongside Imoen.

"So, what do you think of the new guy?" Imoen asked her, low.

"He seems very—intense," Anna replied.

"Yeah, really. I thought he was going to bite me. And he bowed to Xan. That was funny," Imoen giggled again.

"Moonblade wielders are greatly respected in elvish culture. It's not so surprising."

"Maybe not, but it was still funny. I can't imagine bowing to Xan! He's not really the storybook elvish hero, is he?"

"Not exactly," Anna grinned.

"Still, I think he's pretty cute."

"Xan?" Anna said, surprised.

"No-o-o," Imoen laughed. "The other one."

Anna swallowed a laugh and hoped that elves' sense of hearing wasn't as good as she'd read.

....

Their camp that night was thankfully drier than the previous night's although it was still chilly and Anna's bedroll hadn't dried properly. Kivan spent the evening repairing his arrows and tending to the fine white longbow he carried. He had little to say to anyone except Xan and even those conversations were brief.

Anna thought he seemed somewhat uncomfortable in the group; from his manner and appearance she reckoned he didn't spend much time in the company of others, elven or no. She was friendly to him but did not try him in conversation. He had no blankets, and when he laid down to rest he instead wrapped his cloak tightly around him and lay down as easily as an animal on the forest floor. She envied him that ease as she settled in to her own damp bedroll.

....

In the morning Kivan mentioned that he knew a shortcut that would save them many hours travelling.

"The road bends to the north here, following the hills to a village whose people left it long ago. _I'kalmindon _lies to the south. The way is steep but your feet should manage."

"How do you know all this?" Finn asked.

"I have travelled this land before. If we take to the hills we will hear the sea birds calling by the time the sun sleeps for the night."

"Alright, then. We'll take your word for it."

Instead of following the road Kivan boldly walked off into the forest and the others followed him. As she crawled over and around the rocks and roots in the way she thought, or rather hoped, that someone like this ranger must know his terrain. She certainly would have questioned anyone else's desire to travel this way. The hills rose sharply and the party struggled to find a place where they could all get up with ease. Kivan for his part scampered like a deer. Neither the climb nor the miles they put behind them that morning seemed to have the slightest effect on him.

The trees thinned on the steep hills but the juniper bushes grew thicker and their constant snagging on Anna's cloak quickly became an annoyance. She was glad when Jaheira finally called for a halt and they could rest with their backs on tall stones. At their feet short grass curled and green and grey mosses clung to the rocks that poked through the thin soil. Anna found a patch of wintergreen which cheered her somewhat.

Picking over the waxy green leaves her eyes wandered to Kivan who sat not far away. He ate nothing but drank a bit of wine, and now he sat looking thoughtfully out over the horizon, his face utterly still. She noticed that his cloak was sewn and patched in a remarkable number of places. He must be frugal indeed, she thought, to put so much effort into preserving the garment beyond its life. Glancing up she saw that he noticed her gaze and his black eyes were glittering back at her. For some reason she felt embarrassed and a little guilty, like she'd been caught peeking through someone's window. She stood up and could see that Kivan had proven true to his word at least. In the distance she could make out the grey line of the sea, crawling like a snake along the horizon.

...

_"Well met, kinsman. Where are you from? What brings you here?"  
__"Well met...I am Kivan from the forest of Shilmista. I am hunting these foul orcs."  
__  
Ohtar-__warrior  
I'moruuvanimo-the black beast_


	11. Grey Sea

The party tumbled down the other side of the hills and were once again in thick woodland, though this forest did not seem as old. After a time Kivan's pace began to slow and he looked around warily.

"What is it?" Finn said low.

"The forest is silent, _O__htar_."

They were all quiet, looking and listening for signs of an enemy. Suddenly Kivan began to examine the ground keenly. He looked up at the trees and his eyes narrowed.

_"Lianter,"_ he hissed.

Xan reached for his sword.

"What is it?" Anna whispered.

"Spiders. Be careful."

Anna shivered, remembering the Nashkel Mine. They watched the trees above as much as the path while they hurried along. Anna saw thick webs of silk sparkling on some of the branches and a few chilling bulges wrapped to the trees. Kivan drew his bow. The string sang out and something heavy fell from a tree and landed in the undergrowth. Kivan ushered them past and Anna noticed black legs protruding from the ferns. He kept the party going at a fast pace till he felt the danger was behind them.

"Well spotted, mate," Finn said when they paused to catch their breath.

"We are fortunate they sleep in the day," he replied. "Though we should not linger here. _Lianter_ do not hunt far from their dens but they might pursue our scent, thinking us good meat."

"_Ugh_," Anna couldn't help but say aloud. She had no fondness for spiders and giant ones were a horror to her.

…

Rather than head south Kivan kept them travelling west. The terrain grew easier as it dipped towards the sea and they made good progress. The trees gradually changed to tall pines and firs that clung with their twisted roots into the hillsides. Before sunset they reached the old coast road and the cliffs that fell into the Sea of Swords. Below them the waves crashed into the rocks, and the dark sea stretched to the horizon where it met the milky-grey sheet of sky.

They made camp and Anna and Finn wandered over to look at the water. Anna took a deep breath and let the salt air fill her lungs; it was long since she had seen the sea. Finn stared quietly at the water for some time, his eyes pensive.

"A copper for your thoughts," Anna said to him.

He broke from his reverie with a start and looked at her.

"This is the first I've seen the ocean since we left Candlekeep. I used to love watching it from the towers."

"It is beautiful, isn't it? Even on a day like today. The sea has its moods, like a person."

"It always reminded me of a woman," Finn said.

Anna smiled. "Do you miss Candlekeep?"

"I do. I never thought I would. It used to get to me how quiet the place was. I wondered why they even bothered to have a guard sometimes. Who's going to sack a library?" he laughed. "But now…I miss it. I miss…what about you? Do you regret coming along?"

"No," she looked wistfully out to sea. "I'm like you, I didn't realise how much my little home actually means to me. But…I could see all the problems the farmers and merchants were having with iron, and everyone talking about war. People are afraid. I'm frightened, too. Being out here—I feel like I might have a small chance of helping, somehow. That sounds a bit conceited, doesn't it?"

"I don't think it does."

"That's good of you. I'm still a bit unsure of myself, to be honest."

"Why? You've done a good job so far."

"Oh, I'm a fair spellcaster. But there's more to this than that. You and Imoen, all the others really, have a real reason for doing this. I don't. No one is looking for me, no duty holds me here. I chose to pursue danger. I don't know—I guess sanity kicks in sometimes," she laughed.

"It's got quite a punch. I try to duck, when it takes a swing at me," he grinned. "But honestly, I think you're all the braver for coming with us, when like you said nothing compels you. Desperately foolish, but brave." He grinned wider.

"Thanks, I think," she smiled back. "I don't think I'll ever make much of a warrior, though."

"You don't need to be. That's what I'm here for."

Anna smiled again and looked out over the water. It was hard to explain what she meant. She began to hum a tune.

"What song is that?"

"Just a song about the sea. It's pretty but a bit sad."

"Will you sing it?"

Anna quietly sang her ballad, her words catching in the wind and drifting away. Her voice sounded more hoarse than it used to but Finn appeared to take no notice.

"I like it," he said, then slipped his arm around her waist. Anna tingled with the unexpected touch, feeling a strange awareness of the weight of his arm and the warmth of his scent. He looked down at her and she could feel her legs melting, but quietly she pulled away from him.

"What is it?" he asked. "Don't you like me?"

"It's not that," she stammered. "It's just all a bit—I don't know. I don't think this is the time."

"Sorry, I didn't think I was being fast."

"No. I mean, I'm not sure if this is right, at all. I think we should just carry on as we are."

"Just be friends, you mean," he said dryly.

"Yes." She looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Finn. I have grown fond of you. But I just don't think…" she didn't finish her thought.

"Look, if this is about that girl in Nashkel—"

"No, it's not really that. I'm sorry, just, I can't. I'm sorry."

"Fine," he grumbled.

He walked away back towards camp and Anna let out a deep sigh. Wrapping her cloak around her she sat and watched the sun sink below the clouds into the sea.

…

She physically jumped when she heard a voice behind her. "_Arwen en amin_, why do you sit here? Darkness comes. You should go to the others."

"Kivan!" Anna gasped. "I was just…thinking. You're right, I should go back to camp."

"Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you."

"That's alright. Are you on patrol?"

"Yes. The sun sank low after Finn returned to camp and you did not follow him. I sought to find you."

"You came looking for me?" Anna was rather surprised that the stern elf was concerned about her. "That was kind of you, but I wouldn't go too far from camp. You needn't worry."

"Perhaps, but these are dangerous lands. It is not wise to be away from the others."

"You are," she smiled.

"The wild things, they do not trouble me, _arwen en amin_."

"I believe you," she laughed a little, rising to her feet.

Slowly she walked back to camp. Jaheira looked up at her sharply but only said, "There you are. The rest of us have eaten already."

Anna mumbled something about watching the sunset and dipped up what was left of the nightly stew. She had little appetite but forced herself to swallow it. Finn was busy cleaning his weapons and appeared not to notice her. When she glanced at him his expression was sour. Perhaps she'd given him the wrong impression, but then what impression did she want to give? She couldn't deny that she found him attractive. But getting too close to Finn would be easy, she thought as she remembered the casual way his arm held her waist.

…

Anna woke in the night. She kept thinking of the celebration in Nashkel. Finn's interest in other women at the dance hadn't gone unnoticed even before he decided to take one who-knows-where. Suddenly her foolishness hit her. He didn't really want her; he just wanted women, and she was close at hand. As she lay thinking she heard Finn moan in his bedroll. He spoke to himself, but she couldn't understand his words. He sounded almost in pain. Anna sat up slightly. Khalid also heard him. Rising from his blankets he went and crouched over Finn. He became silent and Khalid slowly returned to his rest next to Jaheira. Finn remained quiet and Anna pulled her blanket over her head and tried again to sleep.

In the morning Finn's eyes betrayed his restless night and he was unusually silent while the group broke fast. In the morning light Anna thought more and more of how foolish it was for her to be bothered over him. He was young, away from home and determined to find adventure, whether with his sword or whatever hapless maiden who crossed his path. Peering at Finn and his heavy eyes over her cup of wine and water though she couldn't help but think that her explanation didn't quite do him justice. But it was the easiest and safest for her.

...

After breaking camp the party travelled south along the coast. The skies had broken and high clouds moved swiftly overhead, driven by the sea wind. The landscape was beautiful and Anna wished she could enjoy it more. But as Kivan said the land was wild, and she must be alert for trouble.

The two spellcasters tended to walk slightly behind the warriors, and despite his raised hood Anna noticed that Xan seemed to be regarding Finn more than usual. When he turned away his face had a grim set.

"He had a nightmare last night," Anna said.

_"Hm?" _Xan said, looking at her with a start as though she'd suddenly crept up behind him. "Yes. He had one in Nashkel as well."

"Does it concern you?"

"Bad dreams are never an encouraging sign, though with recent events it's not surprising."

"Indeed," Anna said quietly.

She turned as Kivan slipped silently past them with a nod. He would occasionally move from the fore to the rear of the group and back again, alert as a hound.

"I'm glad he's joined the party," Anna said after he went past. "A capable ranger is a great help in these lands."

Xan nodded. "And you would not find one more capable than he, I believe. It is good to have one of my kin near again."

"I would imagine. Though he seems…I have never seen an elf like him."

Although elves made much of their connection to nature the ones Anna had met usually wore fine clothing that wouldn't last five minutes in the forest, and they seemed happy enough with the trappings of civilization. Everything about Kivan however spoke of an inherent, almost primitive wildness. Even his weapons seemed to have sprung from the earth.

"_Tel'Quess_ are all connected to one another, and in that way we are the same," Xan said. "But—you are correct. He is what we call a wild elf, or more properly _Calen'Quessir, _the Green Elves. Their way of life is quite different to the elves of Evereska."

"Truly? I've heard of wild elves, but I don't know much about them. They are quite secluded, aren't they? He's a long way from his home."

"As am I," he sighed. "But he has good reason."

"What is it?" she asked. "He pursues the bandits, but he did not say why."

Xan paused. "Forgive me, but I do not think it my place to say. Suffice it is very important to him."

"Very well," Anna said. Another mystery in a group that seemed to abound in them.


	12. Blackout

They followed the old coastal road as it twisted over cliffs and around bends. Suddenly Kivan slowed and tensed in a way that said danger was near. The group moved off onto the sides of the road, ready for whatever approached.

From her hiding place Anna could hear a voice. It sounded irritated. The speaker seemed to be talking to himself. Or herself, as it quickly became clear that a woman was walking up the road. She seemed to be alone and the party stepped out of the trees.

Seeing them the woman froze for a moment, her mouth open in fear. But then a wide smile came over her face and she addressed the group, Finn in particular.

"Such a stroke of luck," the petite woman said. "I'd been _so_ upset that the men I hired simply _ran off_ without me, leaving me all by my lonesome out here. And here _you are_."

"Yes, here we are," Jaheira said, dryly. "What brings you to this place?"

"It's a very interesting story," the woman continued, smiling at Finn. "And I'll tell you because I'm a very generous woman. I and my hirelings, dreadful things they proved to be, were searching for a great treasure that is on the coast, not far from here. Gold and jewels and enchanted weapons. A _pirate's_ treasure, isn't that exciting? But those bad men had no sense of chivalry and abandoned me here. Frightened kitties! But _you_, you don't seem like the kind who scares so easily. If you're lucky, Safana might just share her riches with you." She tossed her dark head knowingly.

"An enthralling tale to be sure, but we have little interest in your riches," Jaheira said. "We are on pressing business, and do not have the time for wild goose chases."

The woman dismissed Jaheira with a wave of her hand. "It would take little of your time, and would certainly be worth your while. We discovered the location of the cave but I could not hope to clear out the guardians on my own and those cowardly men ran off, as I said. What do you say?" she repeated to Finn. "Or are you the sort who lets a woman speak for you?" Her brown eyes glittered the challenge.

Finn laughed. "Not really a question of 'let' with her." Jaheira glared at him. "But this treasure of yours sounds interesting, if you're telling the truth. What sort of guardians are we talking about here?"

"I can show you the charts to prove the truth of my words," the woman said. "But keep in mind that I have the final co-ordinates memorised, so there's no point in playing little tricks on me, yes? The cave is guarded by golems—flesh golems to be exact. My men took one look at the great walking blobs of flesh and ran off like little children. _Hmph!"_

She pulled the evidence from her pack and showed it to Finn, talking enthusiastically and gently brushing her hand against his while pointing out key spots on the map.

"You can't be serious, Finn," Jaheira said. "This is a fool's errand, and we have no time."

"I don't know," he replied, his eyes twinkling, "It's on the way, and we could handle a few golems. The reward might be worth it."

"You can be certain it will be," Safana purred.

"As you wish, then," Jaheira said coldly. "But let us be on our way and get this ridiculous quest over with."

The cave in question was to the south, though they had little hope of reaching it that day. Finn was right that the fabled horde wouldn't take them far from their path but somehow Anna didn't treasure the idea of spending the next few days in the woman's company. Safana walked with her arm in Finn's, chatting and laughing, her legs moving quickly to keep up with his long stride. As Anna regarded them she was even more thankful she hadn't given in to Finn. He certainly seemed to be enjoying the exotic-looking woman's chatter.

The other members of the group did not seem much more pleased than Jaheira at the new addition. Safana and Finn were the only ones talking and eventually Kivan growled at them as he walked by.

_"Dina!_ The orcs will hear you from here."

_"Hm!"_ Safana said, wrinkling her nose. "What orcs does he mean?"

"The orcs we were hunting before we came across you," Finn said.

"Truly? If orcs are around I'm even more lucky we found each other, no?"

"You certainly are," Finn grinned.

...

Anna's opinion of the rogue only solidified as they marched on; she flirted openly with the men in the group, even to the point of telling an embarrassed Khalid what she thought of his posterior end. Fortunately for her Jaheira was out of earshot at the time. Finn seemed to find it all massively entertaining though, which did little to increase her humour.

After what seemed like a very long few days Safana finally led the group off the road, guiding them through the thick undergrowth till they reached the cave. The low entrance sunk into the hills and bushes and vines guarded the dark opening. Safana picked up a torch that had been dropped by the cave entrance and lit it, holding it out to Finn.

"Are you ready then, my brave warrior?" she said, trying to sound sweet but her voice had an edge. "Not going to back out on me now, are you?"

"I am still not certain this isn't some sort of trap, Finn," Jaheira grumbled.

"Are you certain that's what's troubling you?" Safana asked her with an arch look.

"We're ready," Finn said, taking the torch.

"Seldarine," Xan muttered. "This woman says that golems of flesh guard this place. They are immune to most spells but fire will hamper them. And whatever you do, _do not_ hit them with electricity," he said to Anna.

"Yes, I know," Anna said sharply. She wasn't pleased to head into the foul-smelling cave.

Xan scowled. "I was only trying to improve our odds of survival slightly. But never mind."

...

One after another the party filed into the narrow cave entrance. Inside the smell of rotting flesh was even more overpowering.

_"Ugh,"_ Imoen said, holding her nose. "What died in here?"

"You are likely to find out shortly," Xan said. "Let's just hope it doesn't end up being us."

Finn went in front, followed by Khalid and Jaheira. The light from the torch was dim and Anna wished she had darkvision. The narrow passage ended in a low cavern, with passages branching off to the sides. Anna became aware of something shuffling towards them and Finn shouted.

From the passages on either side several unnaturally tall and misshapen corpses moved in to attack, their empty eye sockets glowing with a faint, sickly yellow light. Fortunately the golems weren't very swift and the fighters managed to dodge their attacks while hacking at their rotting limbs. Xan sent bolts of flame into the monsters and Anna did the same, each strike doing little apparent damage but causing the creatures to move even more stiffly. Kivan swung around the monsters like a cat, slashing at the binds that held their joints with his dagger. Before long they were all on the ground, returned to a rotting collection of limbs.

"Not too bad," Finn said, breathing heavily.

"We aren't th-through yet," Khalid said.

"Now, which way?" Safana said eagerly.

...

They decided to try the path to the right. In the curving passage Finn found himself face-to-face with a golem. The tight cave meant that no one could assist him but before the group could retreat Finn hammered the creature with sword and flame, turning it into pulp but not before sustaining a number of heavy blows himself.

"_Mmph_, stronger than they look," he said a little shakily as Jaheira healed his wounds. The druid shook her head and said nothing.

Moving ahead the party emerged into a small cavern where yet more golems advanced on them. In the close space Anna had to manoeuvre carefully to avoid hitting the party with her spells while dodging the monsters' heavy limbs. The cave was too tight for fighting and none of them could move properly. The world shook as from nowhere a massive blow sent her reeling to the ground.

In a daze she tasted dirt on the cavern floor. A heavy hand lifted her by the cloak, the fabric constricting around her neck. Her eyes met two pale yellow points then the creature slammed her hard against the cavern wall. The room went black. She opened her eyes and saw the ground inches below her face, her arms and legs dangling helplessly. Anna struggled for breath against the strangling cloak. The cave turned upside down and she felt her bones crushed, the red blackness filling her eyes again.

In throbbing pain she forced herself to open her eyes. A bright light flashed and Anna realised she was on the ground. She could breathe again. Gasping she felt that someone was standing over her but she couldn't see whom. She felt wetness dripping down her face, but there was no water in the cave. She tried to move, grasping at the dirt, trying to get away. But the sickening pain hammered in her head and blackness fell like a curtain around her body.


	13. Guilt

A bright light hurt Anna's eyes. It was a torch...no. Slowly she realised it was the sun, silhouetted behind the treetops above her. She tried to move and her head throbbed. A low moan escaped her lips.

Something moved next to her. Anna opened her eyes again and saw Jaheira leaning over.

"Thank Silvanus," she said quietly. She dabbed Anna's forehead with a damp rag. A keen herbal smell came to her and she felt a little more awake.

"_Jaheira_," Anna said, slowly. "_How_…"

"Do not speak. You are safe now."

She carried on with her ministrations. Anna's hands felt the heavy wool of the blankets on top of her. The air was clean and fresh, not the sickening smell of the caves. She closed her eyes and when she opened them the light had changed. The air was dark and a fire glowed not far from where she lay.

Anna moved her head and it did not hurt as much as before. Jaheira came to her, and kneeling she placed a palm on Anna's forehead. She closed her eyes and spoke an incantation. Anna felt a lovely warm feeling flow into her.

"How long have I been asleep?" Anna asked, her voice rough.

"Since yesterday," Jaheira answered grimly.

Anna thought the druid's face looked pale in the firelight, and there were shadows under her eyes. She poured something from a flask and gently helped Anna lift herself to drink the bitter-tasting liquid.

"What—what happened?" Anna said when she had swallowed the tonic.

"We were fighting the golems when more came up from the caves. One went berserk and grabbed you from behind, knocking you into the rock wall. It threw you around like a doll. We managed to destroy them and get you out into the air, but you were badly injured." She paused. "It has been a difficult couple of days."

"Was anyone else hurt?" Anna asked quietly.

"Not seriously."

"That's good," Anna whispered.

Imoen came up and kneeled on the other side of Anna.

"Heey, you're awake! How do you feel?" she asked with a big grin.

"Alright," she said, smiling back.

"We were all really worried about you. Jaheira said you almost didn't make it and—"

Jaheira made a sound in her throat and Imoen stopped.

"Well, feel better, okay?" Imoen gave her hand a little squeeze and went away.

Anna looked at Jaheira and her mouth was tight.

"I did say you were badly injured. But the worst is over now. You should rest."

She gave her a cup of broth and Anna managed to sleep again.

...

When she awoke the sky was bright. Anna pulled herself into a sitting position. Her head still hurt but she felt more like normal. Xan sat nearby, spellbook open in his lap. He looked up when Anna rose.

"Do you need anything? Jaheira is taking a rest."

"Maybe just some water, please."

He brought her a waterskin. Off to her side Anna heard Kivan say something in Elvish. Xan's brow furrowed when he answered.

"It is good to see you rise, _arwenamin_," Kivan said to Anna. He sat cross-legged, carving a piece of wood.

"It's good to be awake," Anna replied.

Xan stood over her a moment then went back to his book. Anna felt better but wasn't sure if she was ready to try her legs just then. She could see Jaheira sleeping not far away. By her face she was exhausted. Though she was thankful to be alive Anna began to feel guilty and foolish. She should have been paying more attention to what was going on behind her. Now they had wasted days waiting for her to heal, and Jaheira worked herself ragged to save her life.

The camp was quiet, most of the group must be elsewhere. Anna thought of her spellbook—she could at least get to work on memorising her spells. She saw her pack nearby and crawled out of her bedroll but the world seemed to turn and Anna paused, silently willing the ground to stay still. Kivan seemed to guess where she was headed and brought her pack to her. She thanked him quietly. Crawling back into the blankets Anna tugged her book out of the bag and spent the next hour studying magic with limited success. Imoen and Khalid appeared through the trees, the girl carrying a ball of fabric that revealed to be Anna's cloak and mage robe.

"Just needed a little wash," she said cheerfully as she handed the garments back to Anna. She thanked her but Anna didn't want to think about that too much, she'd already noticed bits of dried blood in her hair. She chatted with Imoen and Khalid but she wondered where Finn was.

...

Jaheira awoke and the sun started to set before Finn came back into camp, with Safana. He came to sit with her and Anna thought his manner was a bit like a sheepish schoolboy.

"Hi. How are you?" he asked quietly, a little smile on his face.

"I've been better," she said. For some reason she felt shy talking to him.

"I'll bet." His smile faded.

"I should've been more careful," Anna said. "I'm sorry I put everyone through so much trouble."

"Don't worry about it. Everything happened really fast. I'm just glad you're alright."

"Excuse me, Finn, but I must see to Anna," Jaheira said, walking up with a bowl in her hands.

"Right," he said, getting up.

Anna submitted to Jaheira's healing and examination obediently. The druid's mouth was a thin line and she seemed angry.

"Jaheira, I—" Anna began.

"Shh."

Anna waited until Jaheira cast her spell. "Thank you for all this," she said.

"It is my duty," Jaheira replied. "Hold still."

"I know, but…I'm sorry it happened in the first place. I'll be more careful in the future, I promise."

Jaheira stopped her work. "_You're_ sorry?" she exclaimed. "You are not the one who insisted on going treasure hunting in the first place. Perhaps you should have been more careful but this is not your fault. I hope Finn realises now that gold is not worth a friend's life."

Anna looked at him but he was too far away to hear Jaheira's comment.

"You are recovering well, thankfully," the druid said finally. "If you feel hale enough we should be able to break camp tomorrow."

"I'll be fine, I'm sure."

"You are not fine," Jaheira said sternly. "You received very serious injuries and although magic can speed up the healing process your body still needs time to recover. You will not exert yourself more than is absolutely necessary. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Anna said meekly. "Thank you, Jaheira."

The druid her gave her a tight-lipped smile before rising.


	14. Tiny Flowers Grow

The next morning the group were once again on the road to the lighthouse. Anna walked a bit slower than normal and found that she wobbled from side to side as though she'd been a bit too liberal in a tavern. She felt self-conscious that everyone seemed to turn and glance at her from time to time. Xan walked nearer to her than usual, she thought to catch her should she suddenly keel over. Sighing she held her cloak wrapped tight against the sea breeze and trudged onwards.

She was surprised that Safana stayed with the group. Anna learned that the pirate's treasure, though not quite the mother lode Safana played it up to be had been weighty enough to increase the party's fortunes. Anna was certain the thief would take her portion and head back to civilisation, especially as everyone bar Finn's reception of her stayed chilly. But she was still there, conversing easily with Finn.

Eventually they reached a spot where Kivan decided to scout on ahead. Anna was glad for the rest; her head grew a foggy with walking. She worried about Kivan going on alone though and was relieved when he returned some time later.

"I discovered _i'kalmindon_," he reported. "Some thirty orcs and hobgoblins stay there. They fight and drink and eat. A surprise attack would do much damage, I believe. There are a few patrols, we should kill them before they can call the alarm."

"Good," said Finn. "We're not quite your match with a bow, but I think we should do some hunting. Get these patrols out of the way. Then we'll see about the ones in the lighthouse."

...

The group stowed their packs carefully and prepared to fight. They split into two groups and set off in different directions, hoping to find the patrols before they were discovered themselves.

Anna followed as her group made their way through the forest. It wasn't long before Khalid signalled to get down. A patrol of four hobgoblins pushed through the bushes but fortunately they hadn't noticed the hiding group. From under cover Anna cast her spell as silently as possible and smiled with delight when all four immediately collapsed to the ground, fast asleep. She turned away as Jaheira and Khalid dispatched the sleeping creatures. One patrol out of the way.

The next patrol surprised them and for a few minutes blades crashed and bowstrings sang. Anna cried out involuntarily when an arrow struck a tree inches from her head. She blinded her attacker with an orb and Jaheira finished the job.

One orc fled the melee, heading back towards the lighthouse. Swiftly Khalid followed suit. The half-elf's feet were lighter than the orc's and Khalid caught him in battle again. The three women ran in Khalid's direction but there was no need to provide assistance for the orc lay bleeding at his feet. Anna leaned onto a tree to catch her breath and Jaheira looked at her sharply, but the mage assured her that she was fine. It wasn't true. She had a dull throbbing in her head but there was nothing to be done about it; she must carry on.

Seeing no other signs of patrols the group made their way to a tall fir tree that marked the rendezvous point. Khalid let out a low bird-whistle and it was echoed from the undergrowth.

"They'll miss those patrols before long," Finn said, the jerkin covering his new mail shirt spattered with dark blood. "We should think of the best way to attack that place."

A watch stood in the tower and several ruined outbuildings gave shelter for defenders. The trees which grew up around the lighthouse were an advantage to the party, however.

"We will not stand a chance if we directly assault the place," Jaheira said. "We need to draw them out, fight them one-on-one. And we need to act quickly. They will pick up our scent."

"Y-yes. And do not f-forget, we need their information," Khalid replied.

...

Nervously Anna walked towards the lighthouse. Beside her walked Finn and Jaheira. She could not see them, nor even herself. They were invisible. It was a surreal feeling, like being a ghost. She could see the indentations her feet made in the grass and that was all.

She reached a certain point and held still. Her palms sweat and she counted slowly to ten. Mere paces ahead the hobgoblins and orcs wandered around, carrying on in their way.

_Ten. _She raised her hands. As soon as she began casting her spell she could see her arms again. An orc noticed her and cried out to his comrades. Too late. A second later Anna's fireball exploded in their midst, knocking them off their feet. She heard their screams but didn't stay to watch. Quickly she ducked behind a tree and cast another spell, her hands vanishing once again.

Before she could turn around she heard a thunderclap. Moving from her hiding place she saw a blinding flash of electric light strike from the thickening sky above; Jaheira had cast her spell. An orc collapsed to the ground, burned and twitching.

Orcs and hobgoblins poured out of the buildings. Bracing herself Anna cast her next spell and in a flash a group of wild dogs appeared from the ether. Mentally she commanded them to attack the creatures, and they rushed in biting and tearing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a group of gnolls appear where none had been before and just as swiftly they joined the fray. Xan, thought Anna.

Confusion overtook their enemies but their commander swiftly barked orders and a number of the creatures fled the dogs and gnolls and lightning strikes seeking their true attackers. Anna was in danger. She didn't have time to cast a spell that would stop them and if she ran her back would be an easy target for their arrows.

"Get down!" Finn called as he burst out of hiding and locked swords with the two hobgoblins nearest Anna. A heavy black arrow struck his chest but thankfully it fell from his good mail. Behind her tree she heard him grunting as he grappled with them.

Anna turned and spoke words. The hobgoblins froze with swords poised and twisted, angry expressions on their hairy faces. Finn ran his blade through them both. He glanced at Anna before running to engage more of the creatures.

She drew a deep breath and faced the melee again. She could see Finn, Khalid and Jaheira in the thick of the battle, still outnumbered though many enemies had fallen. Her head felt like bursting but she cast another spell and this time a gang of gibberlings appeared. They were not fierce compared to the orcs and hobgoblins but would provide a distraction.

Anna heard heavy footfalls behind her and turned to see a hobgoblin charging. She dodged out of his way somehow but fell onto her back. With a cry she cast a spell but it fizzled in her hands. The hobgoblin raised his sword over her and she rolled blindly away from his blade. Before she could stagger to her feet a fine white arrow pierced the goblin's neck and he let out a weak cry, falling to the ground. She looked around but Kivan was already pursuing another target.

...

Jaheira's admonition to stay out of battle seemed a distant memory. While she still had spells to cast she was needed. She focused against the pain in her head; she couldn't afford to have any more spells fail. Not far from her Imoen and Safana ducked in and out behind trees, stinging the orcs with their arrows. Neither was an excellent shot but they served to create more confusion.

Anna struck at stray beasts with her spells and her store grew lower. She noticed Xan some ways off, his arms raised in spellcasting. A number of hobgoblins made him a target for their arrows. She caught her breath but the next moment he disappeared in a flash of light. Instantly another flash appeared nearby and Xan stepped through. He said nothing to her but spoke an incantation, summoning another group of gnolls into the battle. Fortunately the mages were out of range of the tricked hobgoblins' arrows.

"Do you have much left?" he panted.

"Most of my attack spells are gone."

"As are mine. That was my last summoning spell," he said, wiping his brow. "It appears most of the enemy have fallen. Stay back, now."

"I can still help—" she began.

"You will help no one if you collapse on the field and require rescue," Xan said. Anna felt her face grow hotter.

An orc noticed them and moved in to strike. Xan gritted his teeth and drew his sword against the creature, moving quickly despite his obvious exhaustion. Blue-white flames licked off the blade as he parried the heavy orc's attack, throwing the creature off-balance. Anna struck it with her last orb and it blindly slashed around in confusion. The elf managed to circle around and struck a killing blow.

With a small grunt he pulled his Moonblade from the orc. Blood oozed from the wound but the blood on the blade seemed to evaporate in front of Anna's eyes.

"It will bear no stain," Xan said, seeing her look.

He told her again to stay out of the battle, then disappeared in another flash of light.

...

Anna rested near the burnt shell of the lighthouse. The other party members gathered around the two hobgoblins and an orc that remained alive, their hands and feet bound in strong rope. They cursed and swore at the party in the common tongue.

The party's faces showed the strain of battle. Finn, normally enthusiastic after their victories, leaned heavily against a rough table. Anna felt that she could sleep for a hundred years. She felt utterly drained. Xan was paler than normal and the bluish tinge of his skin more pronounced. Kivan, Imoen and Safana avoided direct combat for the most part but the rips and tears in their clothing showed they'd been busy on their feet.

"I wish these ugly things were dead," Safana said, tossing her head in the direction of the prisoners. "Find what you need quickly and finish them. They are horrible."

The orc sneered at her. "Don't like us, girlie? I had girlie like you once. She not like me either. Cut her throat and she like me better then."

The prisoners laughed. Kivan strode forward and struck the orc so violently that Anna jumped. He growled something at the creature and the orc stopped laughing.

"Whoa!" Finn said, surprised. "We need them, Kivan. Easy."

He moved to pull the elf off but Kivan released the creature.

"We will not waste words with you," Jaheira said to the prisoners. "We are looking for Tazok."

"Tazok not here," the orc said. "We not know Tazok."

"It is pointless to lie to us," Jaheira continued.

"Garank not lie. No Tazok here."

"Then tell us what you were doing here."

The orc just sneered again, showing his ugly yellow teeth.

"Tell us or we let the elf finish you off," Finn said.

"Go ahead, pale man. We not care. You kill us anyway. You cowards."

"You would call another coward, beast?" Kivan glared.

Xan sighed. "I take it this is my cue?"

"Knock yourself out," Finn said.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," Xan answered.

...

He interrogated the prisoners for a long while. They told the truth about being ordinary mercenaries and proved no window onto the location of the mysterious Tazok or what his ultimate plans might be. He learned that the orcs and hobgoblins had been lured to the lighthouse meeting point by the promise of great riches and battles by an organisation known as the Chill, a mercenary group of demi-human races. Their representatives were dead at the party's feet. Xan had to dig into the captives' memories, trying to pick out any overheard clue that might lead them to Tazok. Anna worried about the elf. His face looked pained and his brow was in knots. Finally his hands dropped in exhaustion.

"Sit down, Xan," Jaheira said. "Did you learn anything else of use?"

The elf sat down hard onto the earth. "Corellon, an orc's mind is a foul place to be." He drew a breath and rubbed his eyes. "One of the hobgoblins heard of another bandit camp to the north. In the forest, somewhere near the Friendly Arm Inn. It wasn't very specific."

"Well, that's more than we knew before you started," Finn said. "Good work."

"Thank you. There is more. This camp is unusual in that many races gather there. Human, orc, hobgoblin, gnoll, and others. All criminals and mercenaries. Someone is hiring bandits from all around to ply their trade along the Sword Coast."

"So someone arranged to have the iron ore in this region contaminated, then hired bandits to kill and rob for what was left?" Jaheira said. "That makes little sense. The ringmasters in this affair must be more interested in destabilising the region than in gold. Truly, there must be intrigue at work."

"I think you're right. And we've got no short list of suspects there," Finn remarked.

"It's a lot for little old us to go after," Imoen said. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We must be the thorn in the lion's paw," Jaheira said.

"Why would you want to do so?" Safana asked. "I enjoy a good opportunity but that seems like madness. The bandits are making life difficult enough without deliberately seeking them. I considered going back south until I came across the pirate's map. Less danger for a woman there."

"They came after me, after us," Finn replied. "They killed my father, and I won't stop until I repay them for that." His face looked like fire.

"But why?"

"I don't know," he shook his head. "I don't know."

"Well," Jaheira sighed. "We should search this place thoroughly and leave soon. There may be more enemies headed here and we would not want to encounter them in the dark."

"What about—" Anna gestured towards the prisoners who were beginning to come around from Xan's enchantment.

Kivan reached for the dagger of bone he wore at his waist.

"We can't kill them!" Anna said.

"_Arwen en amin_, these are not innocent people. They are beasts, monsters. Do you know what they would do to you if they were free?" Kivan fixed her with a stare.

"But they are prisoners."

"Then set them loose and I will hunt them. The end will be the same."

"We can't have them following us," Finn said. "Or telling others where we're going."

Anna looked down. She knew what they said was true. But killing prisoners in cold blood seemed, well, wicked. Their captives were cruel murderers. Did that give the party the right to execute them? There was no authority to hand them over to, that was true. She wondered if Finn and Kivan would be so quick to slit their throats if they were men, or elves.

Slowly Xan spoke. "I could take their memories. They would not remember our faces, or why we came here. I could make them sleep for days. They would not threaten us."

"But they would be free to harm others. I could not rest, _Heruamin_, knowing I had let them free to kill innocents again," Kivan said.

"That is the choice before us."

"I do not understand why you are concerned about them," Safana said to Anna. "They are not little puppy-dogs. The painted elf is right. Kill them, and let us be away from here."

"Do as you wish then," Anna said, her throat thick. "Forget I said anything."

She rose up and wandered away from the group. The bodies of orcs and hobgoblins littered the area, their wounds already attracting flies. In the grasses around their remains tiny purple and yellow flowers bobbed in the sea breeze. Birds were calling in the trees and the cries of sea birds came to her from over the cliffs.

Suddenly she felt something grab her. Her heart jumped as she saw a hobgoblin reaching out with a bloody hand, grasping the hem of her robe in his big fist. She cried out and struck at him with her staff. The hobgoblin released her and she jumped away. It was his last movement. She saw the light fade from his eyes. Her heart pounded and her head felt light, not so much from fear, but rather the cumulative stress of the past few days. What was she doing here? She was weak, she wasn't a warrior, either in body or spirit. She was a fool to have left her home.

Kivan heard her short cry and came hurrying over. Following her eyes he understood why she called out. Two hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She was embarrassed to cry in front of the elf, but she did not care.

He looked at her a moment. "Come, _mellonamin_." He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and guided her back to the others. She wiped away her tears and no more came, but she still felt ill.


	15. Reading

Days later the group came again to Nashkel, the nearest settlement to the lighthouse. Troops still patrolled the town but the mood in the village had improved considerably since the party rode north. The mine was operating more or less at full strength and the villagers welcomed them warmly. Even the landlord of the Nashkel Inn seemed in a forgiving mood and offered the group his best rooms.

Anna was glad of the chance to rest, and even more to have a bath. The hot, soapy water made the small wooden tub seem like a bit of heaven. The inn proved to be a mixed blessing, though. Finn and Safana had quickly become an item and the thief didn't seem familiar with subtlety while she flirted at the table. Finn seemed amused by her affections but had no difficulty in returning them, especially, Anna thought, when the mage happened to be looking their way.

She let herself indulge in catty thoughts about Safana but in truth she was more irritated with Finn. She wondered about Safana, too. What made her stay? Jaheira had made it clear they weren't a group of treasure hunters, any financial gain that came through their rough expeditions was purely secondary.

Safana cooed over Finn but there seemed something almost cynical in her affection, something a bit too knowing, a little too—experienced. Anna felt certain it was more than desire which guided the thief's hands down Finn's strong arm. But perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part.

......

Later that afternoon Anna wandered out of the inn on her own. For someone who'd spent days marching she felt an unnatural urge to go walking. She wandered to the old windmill that stood at the foot of the village, ignoring the looks from the soldiers and townsfolk she passed. She rested on a rough bench and watched the mill's blades creak slowly around in the bright breeze. Hearing footsteps in the grass she turned and saw Imoen.

"Hiya," she said, plopping down beside Anna.

"Hi," Anna said.

She gave Imoen a little smile but even Anna felt it must've looked tacked-on.

"Are you okay?" Imoen asked. "You seem kinda down lately."

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just been a wild tenday."

Imoen whistled. "No kidding! I swear if I step in one more gross slimy thing…" she stuck out her travel-stained boots and examined them thoughtfully.

Anna smiled a little. "Life on the road is tough."

"Yeah, it is. But not so much because of the boots."

"No," Anna sighed.

Imoen was quiet for a moment. "You know, he's really not so bad," she said, still looking at her boots.

"Who?"

"Finn. I know he's acting like it now. But he's having a rough time of things lately. Gorion getting killed really shook him up. It makes me feel sick too, but it's worse for him. Gorion was his father, or good as. I think…I think he feels like he let him down, somehow. I know Finn. It's getting to him more than he wants to admit," Imoen said quietly.

"I can't imagine how horrible that must be, for the two of you. But it's not really his fault what happened to Gorion, even if someone was looking for him."

"No…but there's something else." Imoen looked around, seemingly feeling guilty about sharing her friend's secrets. "Gorion and Finn…they weren't getting along too well any more. Finn was getting into some trouble at the keep. He was just doing stupid stuff, like getting too friendly with the girls and drinking too much. He's really great, like I said, but somehow, lately…Winthrop—he runs the inn—said he had the young man's disease. I guess he was getting too restless at home, but Gorion wouldn't let him go until he was twenty-one. Finn planned on leaving this summer. Guess things got ahead of him there, huh?"

"I see," Anna said. Listening to Imoen talk reminded her of how hard her and Finn's situation was. "You're really close to him, aren't you?"

"Finn? He's like my brother. I guess he is in a way. There were children in the village but the monks raised us alone in the keep so we were close. We studied and played together. Finn'd always pull these faces to make me laugh when we were supposed to be reading. That got the monks mad," she laughed wistfully.

Anna smiled. Despite her often impish behaviour she liked Imoen. She always seemed determined to make people laugh, not Anna thought because of foolishness, but rather from a realisation that laughter was better than the tears that came too easily in this life.

"How is it that you two were at the keep, anyway?" Anna asked. "Was Gorion a relation?"

"If he was we never knew it. I don't know why we were there, Gorion never would say. I guess it is kind of odd. Maybe he just wanted some children, so he adopted us. He was a really good man, even if he was kind of stuffy at times."

"You spent your whole lives there?"

"Finn has, or just about from what I've heard. I came later," Imoen said, looking into the distance. "I used to live at this inn somewhere north of Baldur's Gate, with my aunt and uncle."

"You do have some family then? That's good. I lived with my aunt and uncle when I was a child, too. Before my father returned."

Anna smiled remembering the pleasant, old-fashioned manor house where she spent so many years as a girl. It was sleepy and dark inside, with heavy tapestries and relics of old hunts decorating the walls and full of disused corners to investigate. The house was well past its prime but it always felt comfortable and familiar as an old blanket.

"Really? Though these weren't really my aunt and uncle, I just called them that." Imoen drew a breath. "I overheard one of the maids talking one time. She said my uncle brought me home one day when he'd been drinking. Just found me on the side of the road. She thought some gypsies must've left me. My aunt wasn't too happy that he'd brought home some dirty, half-starved gypsy child, but my uncle thought it was funny. He had an odd sense of humour. He was always playing weird jokes."

"Gods, Imoen," Anna began.

"Not exactly the birth of a hero, eh?" Imoen laughed. "It wasn't so bad. I had to work at scrubbing and cooking but I had friends there. I didn't mind that my dresses weren't new, I thought that was too fussy anyway. Some things never change!" She laughed again.

"So how did you end up at Candlekeep?"

"I left when I was about eight. I don't really even know how old I am, isn't that funny? I think I'm gonna tell everyone I'm eighteen now. Nineteen, even. Finn says I'm seventeen, but what does he know? Anyway, this old man came to the inn one day. He went and talked with my uncle and I listened behind the door. From what I could hear, well…he basically bought me, offered gold for me. My uncle seemed to think that was funny too, and said some things I didn't understand. But he let me go. That old man was Gorion, in case you didn't guess. He brought me to Candlekeep."

Anna didn't say anything. Imoen's tale was surprising, but somehow not. Events already proved there was much behind the two orphans.

......

"I've really been talking, haven't I?" Imoen laughed, a little more subdued than last time.

"Imoen, you don't need to worry…I won't tell anyone what you said. Not that you said anything bad, anyway."

"No?" Imoen sounded relieved. "I don't know why I feel so chatty. Guess I just wanted to talk to someone."

"I understand," Anna said. "I'm happy to listen, any time."

"Thanks," Imoen said, her face brighter. "You too. I mean, if you want to complain about Finn."

Anna laughed. "Why do you mention him, anyway?"

"Oh, come on, it's obvious!" Imoen teased. "Well, not _that_ obvious," she continued, seeing Anna's face.

"Yes, well, I don't think anything's going to happen there, so there's little to talk about."

"Oh, but you guys would be such a cute couple! I don't know what he's doing with that nasty little wench. I don't like her. It's funny, she reminds me of a woman I heard the guards talking about once…" Imoen said, snickering.

"What?" Anna asked.

Imoen leaned in and whispered into Anna's ear.

"_Imoen!_" Anna exclaimed, laughing heartily.

"There, see? Gotcha!" Imoen laughed.

Anna laughed again. "The joke's on me. But never mind, I do feel better."

"That's good. You've seemed in a state since you got hurt. Gods, that was an awful day. You probably don't want to talk about that, though."

Anna shivered a little. "No, it's alright. I'm still not too sure what happened after I let myself get hit."

"I almost got grabbed too, those things just appeared from the blue. They went crazy, like. I just pushed myself up against a wall and let Finn take care of them. You kind of got cut off, I guess. Good thing Xan zapped over."

"Xan?"

"Yeah, didn't you know? He teleported over and attacked the golem that had a hold of you. It dropped you and went after him. Lucky thing _he_ wasn't killed, too. But he fought it off. Who knew he had it in him? But anyway…I'm getting thirsty. And hungry! They were roasting a joint of beef at the inn…"

"Now, that sounds like just the thing," Anna said. "Let's go."

.....

Returning the women ordered food and ale and talked awhile with Khalid and Jaheira who were relaxing by the fireplace. Imoen did her best to cajole the pair into attending the fair and Anna tried to back her up, but they only managed a hesitant response. After a time the common room grew noisy with locals and Anna bade the others an early good night, glad to retreat to the peace of her room.

She lost herself in a dog-eared novel borrowed from the bookshelf in the common room downstairs. The landlord kept an odd selection of old books on display in an attempt to dress up the inn despite the fact that likely few of his patrons could read. Filled with tragedy, unrequited love and an unusual number of thundery nights the novel made Anna's eyes water, not from sadness but from silent laughter at the unintentionally humorous tome.

She heard a knock at the door and went to answer it, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. She was surprised to see Xan standing there.

"I've brought you this," he said without preamble, and handed Anna a parchment scroll. "A spell to keep missiles at bay. You do not seem to have such magic, I noticed, and I find it to be quite useful for continued breathing."

His tone implied that Anna lacked some skill in that regard, a problem she couldn't entirely deny.

"Oh, Xan…thank you. I could use this, I know."

She ran her eyes over the arcane glyphs and phrases. Although she saw nothing she didn't recognise the order of the magic was unusual, but then he must have translated it from his own Elvish spellbook.

"You are welcome. Though I might suggest that you endevour to improve your knowledge of defensive spells, if we should be so lucky as to reach civilisation again. _Er, _are you very well?" he added.

"Yes, I was just reading...some dreadful melodrama," she choked.

"I see," the elf replied, giving her a puzzled look.

"Oh, don't worry, I haven't lost my mind yet. Just a funny book, without meaning to be funny," she laughed to herself.

"Well, I shall leave you to your reading. Good night."

.....

Anna spoke quickly as he turned away. "Xan, wait…I want to thank you for the day in the cave. Imoen told me what you did, I didn't know before. Thank you."

_"Hm?_ Oh. No one else seemed in a position to act, so I did," he sighed. "I thought that golem would drive me into the floor, but somehow I triumphed."

"It was brave of you."

Xan shifted a little from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable at the praise.

"I would not call it that. It's just the sort of thing that's expected when one travels in a group."

"Still. Thank you."

"That is the third time you've said 'thank you'."

"It bears repeating," Anna smiled.

"Yes, well, for the final time, you're welcome. May I suggest that you now concern yourself with your spells rather than thanking me, or worse spending more time with _The Lady of Brackenfell Hall_."

"How did you know what I was reading?" Anna asked, surprised. "You—_Xan!"_

"What? You don't think I used my abilities to discern your reading material, do you?"

"Well—"

"Besides being a violation of my code, it would also be a waste of time. I came across that particular book downstairs earlier—I figured that tome fit your 'melodrama' down to a letter. And our packs unfortunately don't have much room spare for extra reading material, even if there were a place to purchase some in this little town. Simple deduction."

Anna laughed merrily. "I'm glad to see your detective skills come into such good use."

"Extraordinary, aren't they?"

He spoke dryly but rare smile drifted over his face, the expression notably lifting his features.

.....

Anna heard quick, heavy steps and looked to see Finn energetically leaping up the stairs. His cheeks were pink and he paused as he passed them in the hall.

"This is cosy. Do you need a chaperone?"

"No, I think we will manage," Xan said.

"Yeah, I think you're pretty safe," he laughed, going into his room.

The elf's scowl returned and Anna recognised the look she'd seen before.

"What is it? Do you not care for him?" she asked quietly.

"He is not without redeeming qualities. But he is too bold and inexperienced to be leading this group. I don't understand why Jaheira and Khalid defer to him. They are much more level-headed and have as much interest as he in seeing these troubles resolved."

"I've wondered that, myself. Jaheira said they were acting as his guardians, but still. There are many mysteries at work in our little band."

"Yes…" he said thoughtfully, then sighed. "I think I will retire now, unless there is anything else."

"No," said Anna, a bit distracted. "Good night."

He nodded and went to his room without another word.

Anna stood for a moment in the doorway, biting her thumb. Seeing Finn drove the cheerfulness out of her once again. She wanted to talk with him, though she didn't know what she would possibly say. In truth, she was a bit worried that she'd box his ears.

She heard steps on the stairs again and looking up she saw Safana walking down the hall. She gave Anna a sly smile and a sweet 'good night' as she disappeared into Finn's room. Anna's heart flopped and the thief probably never imagined how close she came to being on the receiving end of a fireball.

.....

Lying in her bed that night Anna's skin crawled thinking about Finn and Safana. In frustration she finally realised that she wished herself in the thief's place. But Anna would never go to a man's room like a courtesan. She shouldn't have to. She clutched at her pillow and stared into the blackness of her room, and slowly the hours ticked by.


	16. Last Night of the Fair

Bravely Anna faced the prospect of heading downstairs in the morning but fortunately the couple hadn't yet made their way to the breakfast table. She ate in silence and barely looked up when they finally appeared, their arms wrapped comfortably around each other as though they'd been familiar for years. Safana was strangely polite and spoke cheerfully to everyone, making little jokes and telling snippets of unlikely adventure stories. Finn seemed half-asleep and answered her with lazy, relaxed smiles. Anna's breakfast began to stick in her throat and she abandoned the effort of eating.

"So, fair today?" Imoen asked Jaheira hopefully.

"It looks pretty fine, aye," Finn drawled. Imoen made a face at him.

"We should be making our way north," Jaheira replied, though she sounded half-convinced of her own statement.

"Oh, please," Imoen said. "You said we might."

"There w-will likely b-be an armourer there," Khalid said, his grey eyes twinkling at his wife. "And you said y-your chain needs r-repair."

"Very true," she replied seriously, and Khalid smiled.

"_Yaaay_," Imoen said quietly and grinned at her brother.

.....

After breakfast they changed into whatever clothing might pass for clean and set off down the road to the fairgrounds outside the village. As exciting as the fair sounded the day before Anna now had little interest in wandering around behind Finn and Safana while they cuddled together. She could think of no reasonable excuse to stay though and she trailed the others feeling miserable and pinched.

Imoen chatted the entire way with whoever happened to stray nearest her, living only to talk and paying little attention to the lack of responses from certain party members. Finn and Safana shared her high spirits and went along wrapped in a private bubble, their jokes and comments for each other only. Jaheira and Khalid likewise walked some ways from the others apparently enjoying a chance to spend time together without having to plan battle strategies.

Kivan looked sullen and Anna thought that at least one of them was less interested in the prospect of the fair than her. He walked slowly like an unwilling dog on a lead, and Anna wouldn't have been surprised if she turned to find he'd disappeared into the forest along the road. Though she'd only known him a short time there were few people she could less imagine at a carnival. Xan however seemed almost social, the thought of the magic and books on offer probably improving his usual demeanour.

......

Before the dirt track ended Anna saw flashes of colour penetrating the trees and soon the forest parted into an open area dotted with bright canvas pavilions and smaller tents. The calls of hawkers and entertainers rose up above the low buzz of the crowd as they joined other groups of wandering people. Minstrels sang canticles and children ran races with each other, clutching at their bits of gilded gingerbread molded into shapes of castles and dragons. Imoen bought a piece and shared it with Anna, and the mage felt some comfort as the fine breadcrumbs soaked in honey and spices dissolved on her tongue. The smell of roasting meat issued from some of the tents and men sat drinking and laughing outside.

Despite the activity the fair still seemed sparsely populated, but merchants said there were at least twice the number of people there than before the party solved the problems with the mine. People's pockets were still lighter than normal and the threat of bandits did more than its share to keep fair-goers away. Most merchants seemed to have little hope of recovering their losses and planned to move on.

The party wandered around as a single group for awhile, seemingly unable to break the habit of their wilderness wanderings. The new couple led the way and Safana at least seemed so painfully mirthful Anna began to wonder if her changeling self had been spirited off in the night and replaced by the original child.

Despite her troubles though she felt a bit sorry for Kivan. He barely spoke and his rough clothes and odd appearance earned looks and whispers from passers-by, but if he noticed their talk he kept it hidden. In truth the entire group were an object of curiosity for the fair patrons—rumour quickly got around that the Heroes of Nashkel were in attendance that day.

After idly watching yet another juggler Anna told Jaheira she was going to look around on her own. She wandered away without a word to anyone else, thankful to finally be away from Safana. The thief took every opportunity to parade her possession of Finn and no imagined speck of dust on his jerkin stood a chance against her caresses. Finn seemed to be enjoying himself as well, Anna thought, her stomach clenching as she recalled the way his lips parted as they pressed against his lover's mouth.

.....

Anna roamed aimlessly, watching the crowds with disinterest. The sun shone high above but the day stayed dull for her. A combat demonstration provided some diversion but she quickly turned away, the spectacle now all too real. She paused for awhile at a book merchant's tent, flipping through some titles while the bookseller peered at her through his steel spectacles. She picked up an illuminated tome and read:

_For not one sparrow can suffer, & the whole Universe not suffer also,  
In all its Regions, & its Father & Saviour not pity and weep.  
But Vengeance is the destroyer of Grace & Repentance in the bosom  
Of the Injurer: in which the Divine Lamb is cruelly slain:  
Descend O Lamb of God & take away the imputation of Sin._

"You going to buy something, duck? This isn't a library you know," the merchant commented.

"No," Anna sighed, putting the book on the shelf.

She wandered back out of the tent and slowly felt her humour creeping up again. The grass and woods were green and she smiled slightly trying to admire the tiny butterflies that flitted by on their business. Finn could do as he wished, it was little to her. Besides, hadn't she rejected him? The thought started defiantly but quickly fell and she began to feel rather lonely and isolated. She looked around for a familiar face but didn't see any of the party in sight. With a sigh she decided to examine a magic-seller's tent.

.......

She drew aside the canvas door and stepped inside, choking a little at the incense that hung in swirls in the air. The tent was strangely dark considering the sun beat hard against the thin canvas outside, and a ruby lantern threw an odd light about the place. A tall, thin wizard with a brown robe and goatee rose up quickly from behind a low bookcase upon hearing her cough and glared at her with narrow eyes.

"Now what does she want?" he muttered to himself.

"Simply to peruse your wares, good sir" Anna replied.

"Ah yes, of course. Why else would she be here?" he said. "Very well, look around. But don't touch anything!"

Anna shook her head a little, thinking that the wizard's mercantile skills were somewhat lacking. Turning from him she examined some carved wood display boxes of various crystals, keeping her hands carefully folded behind her. The merchant went back to sorting through his wares.

"Do you have any lapis lazuli, sir? I do not see any here."

The wizard looked up again with a grunt.

"What? Why do you disturb me? There must be some around here somewhere. I can't be expected to find everything, can I?"

Anna opened her mouth but said nothing—eccentric wizards were nothing new to her. The man went back to sorting, rambling oddly to himself in a disgruntled manner. She decided to take her leave but he cried out.

"_Aha!_ It is here! I knew it was here!"

She looked to see him holding up a small glowing orb.

"Excellent," he went on. "This will expedite things considerably. Now, what did you say you wanted? A monkey's foot?"

He swept out from behind the bookcase and approached her, the orb's light penetrating his fist.

"_Er_, lapis lazuli, actually," Anna said. She didn't quite like the way the wizard was looking at her.

"She'll do, I think, yes," he muttered. "Lapis, you say? Yes, I have some. But first perhaps you'd like to see this fine trinket?"

......

Anna started but before she could act he grabbed her arm and a blinding flash filled her eyes. She felt herself pulled away and the next moment she stood blinking in bright sunlight. The tent was gone and Anna nearly lost her footing realising she and the wizard now stood on a mountain ledge.

"Where are we?" Anna cried out, jumping away from the wizard who released his hold on her arm. "Take me back this instant."

The wizard folded his hands in his sleeves and regarded her with a weary resignation.

"She seems most unpleasant. Not surprising, they are all uncouth in these parts," he told himself.

"_Now!_" Anna interrupted him, her face beginning to steam with anger and fear.

"Yes, yes, I can sense your agitation," he said blandly. "But I in fact have a fine offer of employment for you. So before I am forced to restrain you with my clearly superior magic you would care to listen, yes?"

"No, I wouldn't," she fumed. "I warn you my companions are very powerful adventurers, and I am no weak practitioner of the magical art myself. I will not tell you again, return me."

"Your undoubtedly brutal companions are not here. And you cannot teleport yourself or you would have done so already, rather than chastise me like an old maid. Now perhaps you will listen?"

Anna glared at him and glanced around. From the terrain they seemed to be somewhere in the Cloud Peaks, but she couldn't be sure. The mad wizard might have teleported them across the continent for all she knew.

"Very well, wizard," she said hesitantly. "But no treachery."

"Excellent! I knew the little strumpet would acquiesce when presented with undefeatable logic. Now to the matter at hand. I am Edwin Odesseiron. I doubt you are well-read enough to have heard my name," he said with a sneer. "I have been roaming around this gods-forsaken frontier seeking an important object that is in the hands of a foul witch. Now, I can see the gold coins spinning in your eyes. Let me assure you, this object is of little material value but it has a great deal of importance to me. It is imperative that this vile creature's existence is snuffed out for the good of the entire Realms, and I must have this token as proof of her demise. You will help me destroy this witch. In return I will reward you with gold, jewels, hair ribbons, whatever else you think to want. What do you say?"

Anna rubbed her arm and tried to make some sense of the man who looked at her with barely restrained arrogance.

"Tell me, Edwin—who is this evil witch, and why can an obviously powerful wizard such as yourself not defeat her single-handedly? Why do you need me at all?"

She spoke with clenched civility, but the wizard missed her barb and a pleased look appeared on his face.

"Ah, she actually shows some signs of enlightened thought. Remarkable. Of course I could defeat the witch on my own, there is no question. It is not her, but rather her current location that is the problem. For you see there," he gestured with a long finger, "there is an old fortress which is in the hands of a sizable pack of gnolls. The witch has allied herself with the thick-skulled beasts and they keep her under heavy guard. I could of course defeat the gnolls as well but it would require spells that would be better spent on the witch. I need you to act as backup, as it were. Yes."

His nose twitched but his goatee attempted a smile. Anna looked down the ravine. A rough wood and rope bridge stretched over a rocky creek far below, and on the other side the ruins of an old watchtower clung perilously to the cliffside. Several strange creatures patrolled its roof.

"But why take me?" she asked again. "Surely a group of mercenaries would be better support than one lone mage. How can we two expect to deal with so many gnolls?"

The wizard made an aggravated sigh. "I am in something of a hurry and did not have time to round up the necessary cutthroats. And you must know little of the Art if you fail to realise a powerful wizard is worth more in battle than a dozen armed louts. Not surprising, she looks like a bar wench in a mage robe. Peasant blood, clearly." Anna saw red but the wizard continued. "Even one with your inferior skills should be qualified to handle a few gnolls, however. Did you not say that you were an adventurer or something equally dull? Now shall we go, or do you wish to spend the rest of the afternoon in idle chit-chat?"

He raised an eyebrow and Anna looked desperately down the ravine once more. It was clear as the sun in the sky that this wizard was up to no good purpose. She had no intention of walking into a gnoll fortress with him, whether or not his story of the witch was true. But what other options did she have? She could attack—she'd love to stick a missile in an inappropriate place following his running commentary, but there was no guarantee she'd win. For all his eccentricity he seemed powerful. She could run, but she had no idea where she was and the terrain looked difficult.

"Listen, Edwin," she said slowly. "I would help you, but this seems too dangerous. My companions are adventurers, as I said. Take me back to the fairgrounds. I will find them and convince them to take your mission. Your witch will be dead and this object you need will be in your hands by nightfall."

He clenched his teeth and growled at her.

"Why must I always be surrounded by idiots? I do not think we need your companions. We have no time to waste! The witch may already be dead—that is, she must be dead soon. This is taking too long. Prepare!"


	17. A Fortress

The wizard raised his hands and Anna braced herself to fight but instead of attacking Edwin teleported them once again. The burst of light faded and she found herself standing within the walls of the keep. A group of gnolls snarled through their teeth at the intruders and Anna gasped, their size terrifyingly apparent at close range. Edwin spoke and a field of blue crackled around his body. Snapping back to her senses Anna did the same, and not a moment too soon as a volley of arrows hissed in their direction. Her shield did its work and she gave thanks to Xan as the heavy arrows deflected from her as if she were wearing solid plate.

Edwin's hands molded the air and his voice echoed in a deep incantation. A giant wyvern rose out from a cloud of mist, separating the mages and gnolls. The creature spread its leathery wings and whipped its barbed tail over its head like a scorpion at the hairy creatures. They howled in obvious surprise and attacked the new intruder.

"Don't stand there with your mouth open collecting flies," Edwin snapped. "Attack them!"

"I ought to attack you, you lunatic!" Anna cried, but she cast a summoning spell of her own and a pack of wild dogs rushed in under the wyvern's wings.

"Come this way," Edwin called.

With the gnolls distracted by their summons they hurried to a door in the base of the tower. Casting a spell against the lock Edwin opened the door and dragged Anna inside with him.

_"Let go!"_ Anna shouted, but her attention was taken by the gnolls who came rushing down a staircase towards them.

Edwin slammed the door and fixed it shut with another spell. Anna managed to hold the gnolls in front and their comrades had to knock them over like statues to get at the mages. Edwin uttered ancient words and Anna watched with wide eyes as a black fog drifted from his mouth and flowed out over the floor towards the creatures. Like a serpent it rose, slipping into their mouths and stealing away their breath. Without a sound the gnolls fell to the ground, stone dead.

"There," Edwin said. "Now we must find the witch."

"Find her yourself," Anna growled. "I'm getting out of here."

"Oh? Well, you are welcome to fight the gnolls outside if you wish. And whatever creatures I might happen to summon against you, as well," he smirked.

Anna glared at him. "Alright, then. But I swear, if you grab me again…"

"Yes, yes. Terrible hell-fire will rain from the sky, I'm sure. Such an unpleasant woman! Now come, the witch will be somewhere below."

....

He pulled open a large trapdoor and cautiously the two wound their way down a twisting stone stair to the lower levels of the keep.

"The witch is in the dungeon?" Anna asked quietly.

"Yes. Probably performing her vile experiments. Now hush!"

Anna prayed that no gnolls ambushed them in that tight space and they soon came to a heavy wooden door. Edwin gestured politely to Anna.

"Ladies first."

"You are joking," Anna said flatly.

"Only slightly."

With a spell the lock clicked and Edwin looked at Anna. She nodded and he threw open the door. Anna cast another summoning spell, sending wolves forth in a confusion of mixed howls and yaps. Edwin spoke and an energy field appeared around him.

"Today, woman?"

Anna grimaced and summoned her shield. Together they killed the defenders but she let out a breath of despair as the back door burst open. Fortunately though the new gnolls struggled to get through the humanoid-sized entry and Edwin took his chance, sending a bolt of lightning cascading through them. The creatures screamed horribly and Anna's nose prickled with the scent of their singed fur and flesh. Edwin cast the spell again and the gnolls died where they stood.

"Excellent. The witch must be very close!"

He tittered and seemed giddy with excitement.

"This witch..." Anna said cautiously. "What defences does she have, other than gnolls? How great is her power?"

"She is powerful indeed, but no match for me. Nothing else you need to know. Let us keep moving."

He spoke quickly and gathered up his robe to step over the fallen beasts in the doorway. Anna looked around but reluctantly followed. They pushed their way through several rooms, somehow forcing their way past the defenders. Edwin's summons kept most of the gnolls at bay and the mages took no injuries but Anna began to feel exhausted with the effort of spellcasting and her increasingly edgy nerves.

....

At last Edwin opened a door and Anna found herself not in a sanctum, but a prison area. The stench of old blood and excrement hit her and she repressed a gag. Cells lined the hall and there appeared to be no other way out.

"What is this?" Anna said. "There is no laboratory here. This is a jail."

"She is terribly astute," Edwin muttered as he went along, peering into the cells.

"I've come this far. You might as well tell me what's really going on."

"I am hunting a witch, as I told you. And—here—she—is!"

He flung open a cell door and Anna came and peeked around his robe. In the dim light she could see a dark-skinned woman shackled to the stone wall.

"Wonderful," Edwin laughed. "You see? Everything has worked according to plan, as I knew it would. Greetings to you, Dynaheir," he said to the woman. "It has been an effort to track you down, especially after you and your addle-brained companion let yourself get captured by these gnolls. But the game is finally up."

The woman slowly raised her head and regarded him levelly.

"Thy be a fool, Red Wizard. My death will serve for nought but to rally my sisters even more against thee."

_"Red Wizard?"_ Anna exclaimed.

She turned to Edwin in shock as though seeing him for the first time. He threw her a look of contempt.

"Is she still here? Yes, you have the honour of being in the company of a mighty Red Wizard of Thay. Now be quiet while I deal with this witch. I am thankful I arrived in time, Dynaheir, I should have been most annoyed if the gnolls sent your soul to the planes before I had a chance to capture it for myself."

He removed from a pouch a reddish-purple crystal etched with odd runes and held it up for effect.

"A soul gem?" Anna said in disgust. "Even having an empty one can get you a prison sentence."

"In this land, perhaps. Now be silent, you little simian! Such a trinket will serve me well amongst by brethren—none will be able to reject my advancement now. I even had the forethought to bring along this wench to barter for your exchange if necessary, Dynaheir. The egotistical fool actually believed I needed her help!"

Edwin chuckled and leaned forward slightly. Anna didn't pause to think. She cried out and pushed him as hard as she could. The wizard wasn't very strong and he fell onto his knees, smacking his head on the stone wall. She tried to hold him but he shrugged off the spell and he rose up, blood trickling from his forehead.

"That was very stupid of you," he said, his dark eyes burning. "Now I have two witches to kill."

Anna only had a moment. She aimed a spell not at Edwin, but at the woman behind him. Her shackles fell open and she let out a cry. Edwin whirled to her and Anna blasted him with a missile. He fell back against the wall. The woman struggled to her feet and started to cast a spell. Edwin clenched his teeth and swore at them.

"Filthy bitches! I'll find you again!"

....

Before either woman could cast their spell he vanished in a flash of light. Anna drew a breath and looked at the prisoner. The woman leaned against the wall, her weakness apparent. She dispelled her magic but kept staring hard at Anna.

"Thy be a servant of the Red Wizard. Why didst thou free me and attack him?"

"I'm no servant of the Red Wizards," Anna said bitterly. "He brought me here against my will. He told me he was hunting a witch and all but compelled me to fight. But I didn't know who he truly was, and I have no idea who you are."

The woman's gaze softened somewhat at her words.

"I am Dynaheir, Wychlaran of Rashemen. If thy tell the truth, then I hail thee as friend and saviour."

She seemed too weak for a bow but lowered her head formally to Anna. If the woman announced she was a Lord of Waterdeep Anna might've been less surprised but she bowed in return.

"Well met, Dynaheir. I am Anna Whitehaven of Beregost. We must flee this place. We killed many gnolls, but no doubt there are others left alive. Are you strong enough to fight?"

"Aye, I shall be," she said, pulling herself away from the wall. "But I hope we need not flee alone. My defender, Minsc, was also captured. I pray to the spirits he still lives."

....

Some of the cells contained narrow pits and they found the said Minsc lying in one, shackled with chains that would bind a bull. He lay curled in a ball but called out when Dynaheir pushed an old ladder into the hole. Even in that state Anna could tell he was a giant of a man, with a bald head covered by tattoos.

"Praise the guardians! Minsc's witch is alive! Oh, glorious day! Look, Boo, Dynaheir lives!"

Boo, Anna quickly learned, was a small brown and white hamster. He sat up on his master's lap and wiggled his nose at Dynaheir almost as if he understood the man's words. How he avoided detection from the gnolls was a mystery.

Anna cast another spell of unhinging against Minsc's chains and he bounded up, full of vigour despite his treatment.

"This witch we have to thank for our freedom, Boo!" he boomed, clapping Anna hard on the shoulders. "Now Minsc and Boo will put their boots in the backsides of the gnolls! Only Minsc will truly put his boot in, of course. Hamsters do not wear boots!"

Anna appreciated his spirit but thought the stay in prison had affected his mental powers somewhat, and she was glad when he finally released her from his enthusiastic hold. Minsc armed himself from the gnolls' weapons and between the warrior and two mages they managed to force their way through the remaining defenders. They hurried quickly as their injured bodies would take them across the bridge, putting the fortress some distance behind before they finally collapsed to rest.

....

"Do you know where we are?" Anna breathed.

"In mountains!" Minsc replied.

"_Er_, yes, but which ones? The wizard teleported me here. I have no idea where we are."

"They are the Peaks of Cloud," Dynaheir responded, rubbing at the bruises her shackles made on her wrists.

"Thank Chauntea," Anna said. "Hopefully I'm not too far away. How far off is the village of Nashkel?"

"Nashkel is a day's journey or more from here as the ranger walks. Minsc and his witch were there. But travelling the nasty gnolls came upon us, and Minsc's blade and Boo's bravery were not enough to keep them from taking us prisoner."

He shook his head forlornly and scratched Boo's ears delicately with a large finger.

"They wanted us as sacrifices for their foul gods," Dynaheir said.

"That's horrible," Anna shuddered. "But how is it that this Red Wizard was pursuing you? I know of the enmity between your nations, but I'm surprised to see you so far west. I didn't think the Wychlaran normally left their nation."

Dynaheir drew a breath.

"We…Minsc is on a journey to prove his manhood. I am only a novice in the Sisterhood and have not yet bonded with the land. The wizard must have learned of us somehow. They track their prey like dogs," she said with disgust.

"I see."

Rashemen was half a world away, Anna thought, and she wondered at them for travelling so far for such an endevour.

....

They hiked for a few hours, climbing over the steep mountainsides and stumbling back down their wooded slopes. Before darkness took them Minsc ably set up camp, building a fire and even constructing a shelter for the two mages from fir boughs and bracken. He snared a rabbit and the scent of it roasting made Anna's stomach scream out. She remembered vaguely her last taste of food was that bite of gingerbread—although it was only that morning it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then.

While they ate a spring snowfall settled in around them and Anna wrapped her cloak close, listening to the faint hiss of snowflakes alongside the crackling of the fire. Dynaheir shivered as the fat flakes built up on her dark hair but Minsc seemed to barely notice. As soon as they could the mages crept into the shelter of rustling leaves, and Anna slept surprisingly well in the cold mountain air. Despite her protests Minsc kept watch most of the night, leaving the women to their rest. He may have been a bit mad, thought Anna, but he seemed to have a big heart.

....

The next day the mages followed the ranger as he blazed a trail through the white-floored forest, leading them down from the Cloud Peaks towards Nashkel. Anna's head still bothered her and she wished for some willow bark to make a relieving tea. Neither mage had their spellbook and Anna worried that Edwin might make a surprise attack.

"I do not think so," Dynaheir said, pushing up the sleeves of her ragged robe. "He is a coward, really. We must be wary, but I would not expect him to attack soon."

The serious young witch seemed very interested in Anna's party and asked many questions as they walked along. Anna answered as much as she thought appropriate. She asked questions in return but Dynaheir revealed little beyond what Anna already knew. She began to feel certain there was more to their being on the Sword Coast than Dynaheir said—their presence so far from their home seemed too unlikely for their simple explanation.

As they marched Anna ruefully thought she had her wish for time away from the others. She fingered her amulet absently and wondered where they were, and if they would have any way of tracking her. She did not see how they could though and she assumed that they had no idea what happened to her.


	18. Ride

Darkness overtook them in the hills. Minsc reckoned only a few miles remained before Nashkel so they fashioned torches and risked travelling on through the thick black woods. Anna made a sigh of relief when she finally saw the tiny lights of the village shining through the trees. They hurried their weary feet towards the inn, hoping the party would still be there.

"Sorry, miss, but your mates cleared out of here in a hurry this afternoon. Bad timing that," the landlord said as he polished some mugs.

"Do you have any idea where they were headed?" Anna asked.

"Can't say that I do. You be wanting rooms for the night?"

"Yes," she sighed. Where had they gone?

Anna had just enough coin in her pockets for two rooms and a bite of bread and cheese. Her stomach rumbled watching the other patrons tucking into roast pork and beef stew and she hoped the landlord might offer them some extra food for the party's help with the mines, but no such luck. Minsc exclaimed that they ate better in the woods but he probably didn't mean it as a slight on her, Anna thought as her teeth tore into a bit of chewy bread.

....

Early next morning they made enquiries over the town. They learned the party left on foot, heading north, though no one could say where they were headed. If they were travelling straight up the road there was a chance the three could catch up with them if they had horses, but Anna had no coin. She decided to try the one person who might be called a friend in that town.

"I see…" the mayor said after hearing Anna's earnest tale. "Ye've lost your friends and have come looking for a favour. You might have said, saved us both some time." He leaned back from his desk and scratched his neck. "I've a little information that might help. One o' the fair managers was saying that a magic-seller packed up and left in an awful hurry yesterday, even leaving stock behind. Now you know merchants don't leave stock to the winds unless there's good reason. _And_, now this is just rumour, mind—your friends were said to've been looking for this fellow. They headed north, you say, though it would've been plain from the asking that the merchant went south. Make of that what you will."

"I don't think that was the man who kidnapped me—the wizard acted like he didn't know his own stock. He couldn't have been the merchant. Do you know anything about him? Where does he trade?" Anna asked.

"You take me for a nosy parker? Well, I am," Berrun laughed. "Merith is his name, trades between Amn and Baldur's Gate. Most merchants haven't been chancing a trip these days but he's stuck to it. Lately he's been heading north, then coming back through town about once a tenday. He keeps a tight lip but he'd never make it to the Gate in that time—only Beregost's that close."

"I haven't heard of any magic suppliers stopping in town," Anna said thoughtfully. "I've had an awful time getting supplies of any kind lately, the shops are running out of everything. But where else would he go?"

She thought of magic. Magic sellers. Wizards. The number of magic-users in the area wasn't high. Thalantyr? No, High Hedge was too far off. Edwin was a Red Wizard, but there were no wizards of Thay in Beregost…were there? Supposing he had allies. The Red Wizards were known to be setting up outposts in the west, but they wouldn't just take a house in the town… The answer hit her in a bolt.

"Ulcaster!"

The mayor raised an eyebrow. "You think he was going there? It's a ruin."

"Yes, but if a group of wizards were setting up shop in the area it would be a perfect spot. The old magic academy isn't near enough for anyone to notice activity there and the locals stay away, saying it's haunted. The wizards would have a base without worrying much about unexpected company. This merchant could go there and be back in the time you mentioned."

The mayor whistled. "Maybe you're right. But if that's the case I'd stay well away. The Red Wizards aren't exactly known for their hospitality."

Anna felt panic creeping up. If her friends followed the same line of thought then they could be hunting the wizards even now, looking for her.

"Please, Mayor Ghastkill, can you help us with horses? If we ride fast we might overtake my friends before they reach Ulcaster," she pleaded.

"Well—I reckon I can. But you'll forgive me if I hope your thinking is wrong. Red Wizards…although you cleared out the mines. I'll tell you the man in town to talk to." He let out a sigh and scribbled something on a piece of paper.

After they left the mayor's house Anna turned to Dynaheir and Minsc.

"I know you're no friends of the Red Wizards, but I don't want you to feel obligated to travel with me. I will find my friends if I can, and if not…"

Dynaheir held up a hand. "Thy saved our lives, and for that reason alone we wouldst accompany you. But by the blood of our nation we have a duty to fight these wizards. We shall travel and fight by thy side."

"Dynaheir speaks wisdom, as always! And Minsc would never let the good little witch run off into the wilds alone to fight bad men. Minsc and Boo are with you."

The ranger gave her a wide smile and Anna returned it warmly. Though she didn't want them to feel beholden she was relieved to have the company.

....

Less than an hour later the three headed off on a full gallop to the north. Like the mayor, Anna prayed her reasoning was wrong. For awhile all she heard was the battering of the horses' shoes on the road. They approached a curve and Anna suddenly jerked back the reins, pulling her horse to a hard stop. The animal skidded along the stones and nearly sat down.

Fallen trees and bracken blocked the road. A dozen ragged, sour-faced men stepped out of the bushes and surrounded the three on horseback, grabbing the horses' bridles while several kept bows drawn on the group.

"Well, well, boys, looky what our net's brought in—two ladies and their guard. You ought to know this road's not safe. Bandits about," their leader said mockingly. "Reckon you should've brought a few more men."

"Minsc is guard enough for two powerful witches! Now stand aside, villain, or Minsc shall be forced to run his blade through thee!"

The man laughed again. "_Oho!_ Here's a champion, and no mistake. Witches, did ye say? Now isn't that interesting. I'm glad you thought to tell us, things might've gotten messy otherwise."

He gestured and the men nearest Anna and Dynaheir grabbed them and swiftly pulled them off their mounts. Anna yelled and kicked but the men held her fast. She managed to send a shock into a man and he pulled back with a yelp but his leader swore at him.

"Don't be a pansy. Get them tied up, quick!"

Minsc shouted and charged his horse. Bowstrings sang. Anna heard Minsc crying out but she couldn't see him. She grunted as two men forced her onto the ground, one pushing her neck down into the dirt, the other grabbing at her hands to tie them. She kicked and struggled, again shocking the man who grabbed her wrists. He swore and kicked her hard in the ribs. Anna gasped in pain as the wind left her.

"Careful, now!" the other man said. "Don't damage the goods."

"Damage the goods, my arse! She gets loose she'll damage us like!"

Anna struggled for breath in the dirt. She heard the howl of wolves and realised Dynaheir must have managed a spell. The man who kicked her suddenly found himself fighting off a shaggy grey animal which tore into his arm. He screamed and fell to the ground, the limb flowing with blood. The other man shouted and released his hold on Anna and she managed to roll onto her back.

"Sorry, love," the bandit said with a scowl.

He grabbed his dagger and swiftly brought the blade down, Anna catching his arm just enough to deflect the blow. He jumped on top of her and tried again. With both hands she managed to keep the blade away but he was too strong and the cold steel moved closer and closer to her throat. She spoke an incantation and her hands grew hot. She could see the dagger turning red and the bandit let out a slow scream. He threw the dagger aside and struck her hard across the face. Anna's ears rang from the blow but she hit him with a magic missile, shutting her eyes as the sparks bounced off him and splashed against her. He cried out and clutched at his blackened face.

Anna kicked him as hard as she could and he rolled off onto his knees. She grabbed her own dagger, gritted her teeth, and plunged it into his chest near his throat. She cringed at the feel of it tearing through his flesh. Blood sprayed over her and flowed swiftly down his front. Anna pulled away in horror, leaving the dagger stuck in his throat. He dropped his hands revealing the awful burns her missile left, then slumped to the ground. In shock she stared at the ragged man lying in the river of blood, his eyes lifeless and still. Her stomach felt hot and she turned away as its contents rose up through her mouth.

She wiped her lips on her sleeve and looked up again. Minsc still ploughed through bandits, arrows sticking out of him like a pincushion. A wolf dragged a screaming man away into the woods. Dynaheir deftly parried a bandit's sword blows with Anna's dropped staff. Stiffly Anna sent an acid arrow flying to him. He screamed and Dynaheir was able to take advantage.

....

A half-dozen bandits were soon dead on the road, the rest fleeing to the woods when they realised they didn't have the upper hand. Their leader fell to Minsc's blade and he lay on his back on the stones, blood soaking the greasy blond hair where the ranger's sword met his skull. Anna worried that the survivors might return for revenge but she felt too numb to worry very much. Dynaheir looked at her, her dark eyes wide and quiet. She said nothing though, there was nothing to say.

The witch plucked the arrows from Minsc's body one by one, the massive ranger never crying out once. Blood covered his clothes but he chugged a healing potion and boldly declared himself good as new. Dynaheir had a cut lip and a bruised face but refused to take any of Anna's precious remaining potions in spite of Minsc's objections. Anna's ribs hurt and her jaw was sore but was otherwise well, physically at least.

Their horses fled the battle but Minsc managed to find them a short distance away, tangled in some shrubbery. He coaxed them out again with remarkable patience and gentleness. As they rode away Anna forced herself to look at the men that Minsc had dragged off the road. They looked so strange, all torn and broken like hideous dolls. Yet a short while before they lived. Anna drew a deep breath, thankful that her lungs still could taste the air.

....

They rode fast again to the north and after a couple of hours they were called to a willing halt by a patrol of Flaming Fist.

"Greetings, good warriors!" Minsc called out. "If you head south you will find the remains of foul highwaymen that fell to our hands!"

"You've met bandits?" the leader said, guiding his horse alongside. "I should say you have by the look of you. You're lucky to be alive, these bastards are ruthless. We're doing what we can but this road is still too dangerous to travel without an armed guard."

"Minsc is all the guard these ladies need—" the ranger began.

"Please, Minsc, not now," Anna said sharply. The ranger was a good man but his constant bravado got tiring.

He turned to her. "Minsc was going to tell these warriors about the brave, strong witches he has the honour to travel with. Boo wonders why that should make you unhappy?"

Anna felt a bit guilty, like she'd chastised a happy child for being too exuberant.

"I'm sorry Minsc. Never mind."

"You look like you could use healing. Our priest Calen will see to you. I don't suppose you kept the scalps of those that attacked you? Officer Vai in Beregost will give you a fair bit of gold for them," the captain said.

"It wasn't on our mind at the time," Anna replied.

"No, I suppose not."

"Hast thou by chance come across a group of adventurers on thy travels in this past day?" Dynaheir asked.

"Aye, there was a group. Strange party, mix of humans and elves. We questioned them but let them pass. They were moving north fast as legs could carry them. Are they trouble?"

"No," Anna said. "They are my comrades. We are looking for them. Did they say where they headed?"

"Said they were hunting Red Wizards at Ulcaster, of all places. I wished them the best of luck. Not something I'd like to handle, I admit. We reported their suspicions to a patrol heading back to Beregost but there isn't much else we can do. We've got our hands full with the bandits right now."

....

Anna thanked him and more thankfully submitted to the healing touch of their grizzled priest. They rode on until they reached an old crossroads some miles south of Beregost. A battered marker stone still stood by the wayside, pointing out the long-forgotten road. Wind and rain ate away at its once elaborately carved sides but Anna could just make out the word _Ulcaster_ etched on the eastern face. They rested for a short time then turned the horses towards the academy, riding single file through the narrow gap in trees.


	19. The Old School

The old road narrowed even more and the branches grew too low for the three to ride through. They dismounted and Anna suggested they leave the horses where they were.

"It's not too much farther to Ulcaster, I believe. We'd be better off approaching on foot," she said, though she wondered if such a thing as 'better off' existed in the prospect of storming a ruin filled with Red Wizards.

"Yes, a direct charge! Draw swords, Boo cannot wait!" Minsc boomed.

"Minsc, _hsst!_" Anna said. "There's only three of us, we can't go charging anything. We should approach with stealth and try to get a feel for the place."

"Thou art in the right, Anna. I despise the wizards but their magic is great. Should we alert them to our presence our lives shall be forfeit," Dynaheir said.

"If Dynaheir wishes. But we are itching for battle."

"Don't worry, Minsc, if the wizards are there you'll get your wish sooner than later," Anna said grimly.

....

They set off cautiously with Minsc in the lead. In spite of his size he was a good ranger and made surprisingly little noise as he pushed through the forest. In the damp low areas last autumn's leaves hid the mud below and their feet slipped clumsily, making Anna reach for roots and branches to guide her way. On the higher land groups of gnarled jack pines clustered like old men. Small blue and yellow warblers flittered busily about in their branches, their presence reassuring to her. The smallest creatures often had the most sense and she didn't think they would stay close to evil magic.

Making their way down a hill they came to a boggy meadow dotted with saplings. A small stream wound its way through the field, marking the boundary of the Ulcaster ruins. The only bridge collapsed years ago so the group went splashing through the water.

Anna made them invisible, and after climbing another low hill they came upon the remains of the stone walls that surrounded the once-great magical academy. Creepers covered the high walls and in places a strong tree sent granite blocks scattered to the ground like children's toys. They stepped into what looked like the courtyard, with remnants of paving stones showing underneath the grass.

Walking through Anna noticed two odd statues which somehow remained upright and whole despite time and battle. Drawing closer a chill realisation crept over her. These were not mythical wizards or warriors; she saw a hunter with bow poised, and a woman with raised mace and an angry expression. These were people turned to stone. She heard a faint rattling sound and saw from the corner of her eye something long and dog-height shuffle out from behind a wall. Her eyes rested on the creature but terrified she dropped her gaze to the ground and called low for her comrades to do the same. The creature snuffed the air and made an odd croaking noise but when it moved Anna heard a metallic tinkling. It must be chained. The creature didn't see the three hidden by the spell and slowly returned to its burrow.

Anna's brain raced for a way to defeat the basilisk. Hastily conferring with the other two she conjured a toxic green cloud that drifted swiftly to where the basilisk retreated. Minsc hurled a rock in its direction and they all turned their backs.

They heard the creature rustle out again. The cloud surrounded it and the basilisk let out a series of pitiable yaps as it writhed in agony on its chain. Soon its cries grew fainter and finally ceased. Anna fished a small hand mirror out of her pocket and looked behind at the six-legged creature lying on its back in the poison cloud. She waited a moment to be sure it was dead, then turned around.

"The wizards be fools to keep such a guard," Dynaheir said. "One false glance and they would be its victim the same as these poor souls here. But it must make them feel strong, to pretend to tame such a beast."

"Can we do nothing for these people?" Minsc asked. "Boo's heart breaks to see them frozen and cold. The witches must have spells that can turn them into flesh and blood again."

"I do have such a spell, Minsc," Anna answered. "But now is not the time. We must be quiet here."

"Why did not your spell bring forth the wizards?" Dynaheir said. "Where be the cowards?"

....

Almost in answer to her question they heard a deep rumble coming up from the complex ahead of them. Without hesitation Minsc let out a cry and ran in its direction. Anna called out, frightened of more basilisk guardians but he paid no heed. She looked at Dynaheir and they followed the man on his mad charge. They dodged around the ruined walls, Anna gasping when she saw another basilisk in their path. But it was dead, its eyes shot out by two white arrows. Anna quickened her pace and they caught up with Minsc who had finally paused beside a stairway that headed down into darkness. He looked back at the breathless mages.

"Here!" he said. "Wicked wizards are down here. Minsc cannot see to swing his blade in the dark, though."

A glowing green orb appeared in Dynaheir's hands. She told Minsc to hold out his blade and the mage carefully rubbed the orb onto the steel like paint, causing the ranger's sword to glow with the same light. He laughed heartily, holding the blade high.

"Now, Boo. _Buttkicking for goodness!"_

...

He tumbled down into the dungeon and the mages followed close behind. The stone walls were close and passages branched out in a bewildering number of directions. They trusted their path to luck and and soon came upon a wizard in ruby-red robes lying dead on the floor, his skin charred and arrows sticking out of his chest.

"My friends have been this way, I am certain," Anna said with an odd mixture of relief and fear.

"Then let us find them! Onwards!" Minsc seemed excited as a child.

They discovered a passage lit with torches and moved down the hall, encountering a few other dead wizards and mercenaries. The sound of combat rumbled ahead and Minsc broke into a run, Anna not hesitating this time to follow.

....

They came to a wide set of double doors which had been smashed off their hinges. Minsc charged into the fray with a bellowing cry, attacking an unfortunate mercenary who was locking swords with Khalid. The half-elf looked shocked and clearly wondered whether this new madman was friend or foe but he saw Anna and relief passed over his face.

The defenders looked outnumbered but once the newcomers arrived their situation was hopeless. A couple mercenaries fled for the doors, never escaping the party's arrows.

"_Dogs!"_ a voice boomed.

An elderly Red Wizard hovered above the floor, out of reach of swords and protected from arrows by an energy field. By the look on his face he had no intention of fleeing. Anna saw him casting a spell and a moment later the room burst into flames. Her good mage robe protected her from much of the fire but her comrades and the remaining mercenaries weren't so lucky. Anna turned to the wizard in anger. She raised her arms and sifted dust into the air. Her spell touched his enchantments and his spell of levitation broke, sending him to the floor. He struck his head hard and moaned, dazed. She was about to cast again when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Oh, you are an insufferable woman!"

She whirled and saw Edwin, arrayed now in the scarlet colours of his kind. Before she could act a shockwave hit her, sending her skidding across the stone floor. The room wavered and she felt blood flowing from her nose. Gasping she pulled herself up but fell back to her knees, her head throbbing. Dynaheir hit Edwin hard with a missile and he staggered.

"Die, foul bitch!" he grunted.

He sent a bolt of electricity into Dynaheir and she collapsed with smoke coming off her skin. A magical shield flowed around him and he began chanting a spell that Anna recognised.

"Stop him!" she croaked.

Minsc and Finn charged the wizard but their blades bounced hopelessly off his shield. Xan stepped forward. Holding out a hand in Edwin's direction he spoke under his breath. He kept his gaze trained on Edwin and the wizard stopped casting and stood still within his bubble.

"Disarm yourself," Xan said in an imperious tone. Edwin complied.

"Now you will die!" Minsc shouted.

Just then the other Red Wizard took aim at Xan. A burst of energy struck him and the elf cried out, his concentration broken. Edwin snapped to his senses and dodged away from Minsc's blade as it sliced through the air. He glared at his attackers, but slid a hand into a robe pocket and vanished in a flash of light.

"Not again!" Dynaheir groaned, pulling herself up off the floor.

"Coward!" the remaining wizard croaked. Khalid put him out of his misery.

....

For a moment the breathless and injured party stood and looked at Anna and the newcomers.

"Hello," Anna said with a small smile. She felt strangely nervous.

Finn stepped forward, a serious expression on his face, but surprisingly he swept Anna up into a big hug and started laughing.

"There you are! Where were they hiding you?"

He twirled her around, oblivious to the blood on her face.

"_Mph!_ They…they weren't hiding me. We figured you came here looking for me, and we followed."

"I'm sorry, everyone," Anna said as Finn set her back on her feet. "I was taken by a wizard at the fair."

She tried her best to rapidly explain the events of the past few days to the injured group.

...

"When I realised you were looking for the wizards, I thought…I wish you'd just have gone on your way," she concluded.

"What, you don't think I'd let these bastards run off with our lady mage, do you?" Finn said brightly.

"It is lovely to know we risked our lives battling these spellcasters for nothing," Safana said. "You really must be more careful. First you are slapped senseless by a golem, then let yourself be carried away by strange wizards. The damsel in distress is charming but it does get tiring."

"I hardly did it on purpose," Anna bristled. "You may find it hard to believe, but not everyone seeks to manipulate people."

"_Hm!_ I do find it hard to believe, dear, for it is not true. Perhaps one day you will realise this. If you don't slip into a hole somewhere along the way first, that is."

"Enough of this," Jaheira interrupted. "I'm too tired for such pointless name-calling. We have found who we came for. Let us get out of this pit, it wears on my nerves."

...

They set up camp near the ruins. Minsc and Kivan scouted for further basilisk guardians and went to fetch up the horses. Imoen chatted endlessly, relating the tale of how the party tried to discover what happened to Anna.

"When we heard that merchant bailed in a hurry it seemed like too much of a coincidence, you know? We caught up with him outside town; you should've seen his face when Finn dragged him off his cart. I thought he was going to need a change of trousers! He'd have told us anything. He said he'd been supplying the Wizards for awhile, but one had come looking for a teleportation stone or something and he rather stupidly refused to hand it over. When he came to the stone and wizard were gone, but worse he heard that some adventurers were all up in arms looking for a friend who'd gone missing. He decided to high-tail it before anyone asked any questions, but too late!"

Anna listened with interest but managed to get away to sit by the fire, looking through her book for the spell that turned stone to flesh. She'd written it down years ago, not really expecting to use it. Being turned to stone was such a shock to the system that some who were restored dropped dead the moment their muscles turned back to flesh. And if the wizard did not take care the spell might backfire, turning the caster into a statue themselves. Still, Anna felt she had to try. The components were unusually basic for a complicated spell, and it required only white willow bark and powdered amethyst. The willow bark she had but she thought with an inward sigh she'd have to ask Xan for the crystals. He looked up from his own spellbook in surprise when she announced her intention.

"Petrification reversal? That isn't easy. Have you cast it before?"

"No," she said. "But I don't think it's beyond me. I should be alright."

"Should is hardly good enough, that spell could harm you."

"I know, but I need to try. I don't feel right leaving those people here."

"Neither do I, but it's not worth risking yourself over. There is a temple of Lathander in Beregost, is there not? Tell the priests, they may send someone to help."

"You know that the longer people are petrified the less chance they can be restored. The full moon is only a few days off, it may fix the spell permanently. They might never be cured."

Xan shook his head. "You have no way of knowing how long they've been there. They may have been frozen for months, years even."

"I know," she said quietly.

"Ah, you are stubborn-minded when you want to be. Have you considered what will happen if you turn to stone yourself?"

"Then go and fetch the priests, on my gold. If they fail perhaps I'll make a nice decoration for the town fountain," Anna replied.

The elf looked grim. "I don't think this is the right subject for jests, but if you're determined then go ahead. It is not my responsibility to stop you even if you would listen to my words. But at least let me prepare the crystal. I've seen your work, one would think you were grinding salt for the dinner table."

Anna's mouth opened but she thanked him quietly.

....

Later that evening Finn came to sit next to her. He'd been watching her since her return to Safana's obvious annoyance. The thief resorted to taking Finn on a stroll away from the others to see the sunset, or so she said. But her attentions didn't have the effect she'd like and she now she looked away with an irritated glance.

Even in the firelight Anna could see his flushed cheeks and she felt that jealous feeling creeping up. What did he want?

"Are you sure about this spell thing? It sounds pretty dangerous," he said.

"I will manage," Anna said shortly.

"I'm sure you will. But—you don't need to do this. It's okay, you know."

"What is?"

"We'd have gone after the wizards for any one of the group. You don't need to feel guilty. And you don't need to try this spell to prove a point."

Anna looked up at him suddenly. "I'm not—!" she heard the emotion in her voice and broke off. "No, Finn, really. I want to help these people."

"I know you do," he said quietly.

He sat silently, holding his knees. Anna couldn't concentrate with him there. She seemed to feel his warmth over the heat of the fire.

"I…need to study," she said finally.

It was a foolish thing to say, he wasn't saying a word. He looked at her though and moved away.

...

The next morning Anna stood by the petrified hunter. With difficulty she memorised the spell, or at least she hoped she had. She kept getting the order of hand gestures wrong. Maybe it was nerves. She felt like a student again, though this was no simple conjuration for her instructors. The party standing around her in a circle didn't help, either. Maybe Xan was right, maybe she should let it go. She sighed. Well, here goes everything, she thought.

Closing her eyes she spoke into the air. She concentrated on the hunter, on his form. She felt the spell holding him, wrapping his life force in stone. She gestured, imagining she was pulling away the stone like cloth. A slight hesitation but the words came to her before it was too late. Opening her eyes she scattered the silvery-purple powder over the statue where it hovered like mist. She spoke the final words and the statue seemed to absorb the dust into itself.

The white stone turned purple, then bloomed into the natural colours of flesh, hair, and clothing. The man came to life and his arrow flew into the trees. He noticed Anna near him and whirled, drawing another arrow onto her. She caught her breath and held stock still hearing the swift creak of Kivan's bow stretching. Fortunately the man gathered himself and let the string go slack.

"The beast? Where is it?" he exclaimed before dropping to the ground.

Jaheira came to him, assuring the hunter that his quarry was dead. The man calmed and gave blessings to his god.

Anna drew a deep breath and approached the woman with the mace. Two out of two? Her adrenaline was up. Facing the woman she cast her spell. She watched as the purple haze absorbed into the statue and the pale, blonde woman turned to flesh. Anna jumped back as her mace crashed down with force.

"_Tempus strikes!_" the woman bellowed in a voice to shake the earth.

Despite her extraordinary attack she promptly fell forward onto her face, where she lay blinking on the stones. Jaheira came running up as the woman pulled herself shakily to her feet.

"Get back! Get back, I say, unless ye wish to face a servant of the god of battle!"

The woman cried out boldly but she wobbled unsteadily.

Jaheira paused. "We are not your enemies. We have restored you from the hands of a foul spell."

"Aye…aye," the woman said, putting her hands on her knees. "That creature I did see. The last thing I did see. A beast of the wizards. Your forgiveness, I humbly ask."

"Do not concern yourself," Jaheira said. "It must be disorientating to be recovered from stone. But you need healing. I will see to it."

"No need to trouble yourself. My god provides."

The woman stretched back and uttered an invocation and she seemed bathed in light. When it faded she stood upright and looked skyward.

"Praise be to Tempus, lord of honourable battle! You have restored your servant that she may fight for you once more! Branwen salutes you, o lord!" She raised her mace in tribute.

"This one looks fun," Finn said, a grin creeping out the side of his face.

"There is not 'fun' in battle, warrior. Only honour or dishonour. Which side do ye choose?"

Her plain yet appealing face turned to Finn, fixing him with liquid blue eyes.

"Honour, honour!" he said, holding out his hands in a cheerful submission.

Anna sat down onto the earth and said a prayer of her own in thanksgiving.


	20. Halflings and a Drink or Two

Anna watched the fair-haired maiden who sat opposite her, cross-legged with a face as serene yet focused as any she'd come across in her travels. She frequently felt in awe of the magic she worked every day of her life since she was thirteen, but even she wrestled with the knowledge that she'd evoked the power that rescued Branwen from the cold grip of stone. She tried to keep the small smile off her face as the cleric of Tempus told her tale, with limited success. Branwen's looks in turn gave the impression that she thought the mage was something of a giddy sort.

The hunter had made his way back to his own lonely hut but Branwen remained, her fortnight of frozen, lost life not enough to deter her from her sworn business. Since her restoration she spent the first half hour praising Tempus and the second trying to elicit the party's aid. Oddly, the Northern cleric had taken it upon herself to proselytize on the virtues of battle to the isolated group of halflings in the vale of Gullykin. As a gesture of goodwill the cleric offered to investigate their fears of unusual activity at the ruins, the results of which Anna had to undo.

"The halflings were justified in their concerns, but I have not yet instilled the lessonss of Tempus in their hearts. I sought to bring an armed group here, to conquer their fears and teach them that their short stature need not mean shrunken bravery. But, alas, they are shy folk. I had hoped that my example might inspire them, but to no avail it seems. Perhaps if they see your might they will begin to understand that it is better to engage those that would threaten them rather than to hide in their burrow-homes."

"_Er,_ yeah," Finn said. He lay stretched on the grass, propped up on an elbow. "Not that I'm questioning your methods, but what exactly were you hoping to achieve by proclaiming the virtues of warfare to the little folk? The halflings I've known were only likely to fight over who gets the last drumstick."

Branwen spoke seriously. "It is _precisely_ because of their nature that they need the word of my god. Their meekness will not protect them when swords and spears come to end their lives. They are isolated, undefended. In these troubled times the virtues of battle are more important than ever."

"You make a fair point," Anna said. "But Gullykin isn't entirely without defences. The Beregost guards provide aid when the villages are in danger. And the halflings' hands are deft, I've heard tales of orc bands falling to their slings."

"And yet none took heed of the halflings' rumours about this place. Who knows what foul acts the Red Wizards would have carried out had you brave warriors not stopped them? Twice these past months bandits have raided their settlements. And they face dangers from the ruins of Firewine now, as well."

"What's going on at Firewine?" Finn asked.

"The ruins have long been occupied by kobolds. But lately they begin to attack the halfling farms and villages."

"I w-wonder if they are a p-part of the t-trouble at the m-mines," Khalid said.

"Even so, I do not think we will be able to assist, Branwen. We have important business of our own to attend to. We were only here looking for a lost party member," Jaheira said. "Perhaps the Flaming Fist will investigate."

"I should not be surprised that a druid would want to avoid battle. But I hope you would reconsider," Branwen said unexpectedly. Anna's mouth opened and she looked at Jaheira, who had the appearance of a paragon of icy restraint.

"I assure you that I am not as passive as many of my kind," she said through clenched teeth. "As I said, we have battles of our own to fight."

"My heart burns to find the bandit beasts," Kivan said. "But we cannot refuse such a request for aid. If innocents need our protection we must help."

He looked like he reluctantly dragged the words up from a deep place within and his eyes flamed as they always did when Tazok's band was mentioned.

"If the halflings themselves asked I would agree," Jaheira replied. "But we do not even know if they want our help. We have only this woman's word to go on."

"My word is true," Branwen said, her eyes narrowing. "A cleric of Tempus would not make up tales."

"Maybe…maybe we could go see the halflings, and find out?" Imoen piped up. "I'd love to see a halfling village. It sounds so cute!"

"Yes, dragged into another unnecessary battle under the standard of cuteness of all things," Xan grumbled. Imoen stuck her tongue out and Anna hid a laugh behind her fist.

"Kobolds we could dispose of with ease. I have heard of these ruins; there may be much there for the taking, yes?" Safana said, running her hand down Finn's arm as she lay casually behind him.

"That is what you thought of the golems," Jaheira said coolly.

"And I was correct. It is not my fault that Anna could not manage the situation. Perhaps she can wait outside this time?"

Anna flashed fire at the thief but ignored her jibe.

"Firewine Bridge has been picked over by adventurers for years. I doubt there is much left for those with greedy fingers."

Safana's eyes snapped and she let her greedy fingers explore a sensitive part of Finn's anatomy.

"_Hi_," he said, moving her hand slightly. "I don't know about treasure, but there's always a chance these kobolds might having something to do with the bandits. We don't know where the other bandit camp is, maybe we could find something to point us in the right direction. It'd be a better option than wandering aimlessly through the wilderness. Firewine's not all that far away, right?"

"Firewine is more than a day's march to the southeast," Kivan said. "I have seen it from a distance, though I could not tell you what dwells within, _ohtar._"

"By the sound of things, kobolds dwell within. Even if they are connected to the bandits they seem secondary and pursuing them would almost certainly be a waste of time. But there's probably no point in my saying so, is there?" Xan said to himself.

"Excellent, Boo! More battle for the defence of innocents!" Minsc boomed.

He and Dynaheir sat a little apart from the others. The mage raised an eyebrow.

"Minsc, we have not been invited to join these brave souls. If Anna wishes we shalt accompany her, but I think perhaps it best to seek a town for now. You have your sword but I am without my magic, and a witch without spells is none at all," she said.

"I never considered you beholden to me," Anna replied. "I'm grateful for your help, and you've more than paid me back for any favour I did for you."

Minsc looked crestfallen as a child told he couldn't go to the fair.

"If Dynaheir wishes," he said, scratching Boo's ears.

"Yeah, feel free to find us if you can," Finn said. "A witch and a berserker are always good fun to have around." He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. "We could go and talk to the halflings, see what's up. No harm in that, at least."

Branwen smiled. "I am pleased. I am certain that Tempus will protect us on our undertakings."

...

Minsc and Dynaheir said their farewells and departed for Beregost, taking the horses and a fair amount of the wizards' goods with them. Anna insisted; she felt guilty sending them on their way with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

Trooping through the forest they eventually came upon a halfling village in the little valley of Gullykin. Nearly two centuries earlier halfling refugees sought permission from Beregost landowners to set up a village, and since then the little settlement expanded and became a valley of plenty. Their ponies tilled the hillsides and the halflings' able hands pulled turnips and dug potatoes and shook apples from the trees. They lived and ate well in their little towns and appeared in Beregost plump and merry, ready to exchange tales and barter goods. For the most part their human neighbours let them be and relations between human and halfling were cordial.

A thick hedge of thorny bushes surrounded the village, keeping the creatures of the forest at bay. The halflings lived in homes dug into the hillside and the only prominent features to be seen were a few stray carts and a watermill. Entering the gates party earned stares and not-very-subtle whispers from the locals.

"Yondalla, that mad big lady's come back!"

"And she's brought more of 'em. Gonna draft us into her army for sure. Blast but I don't feel like hiding out in the green right now!"

"She's brought elves, too. We won't eat proper ever again, them lot get their way. All they eats is nuts and berries."

Anna felt embarrassed; the chattering gossips of Beregost had nothing on halflings. Branwen paid no heed though and strode boldly up to a yellow door in the hillside and rapped firmly. A halfling woman opened the door, her face falling several degrees chillier when she saw who knocked.

"Greetings, Mella. I have come to speak with Galdolar," Branwen addressed her.

"Well, at least you're not taking subscriptions," the woman answered. "He's in back. Come on in, if you think you can fit, that is." She eyed the party who were on average at least a foot taller than her door.

....

Somehow though they all squeezed into the tiny place. Anna felt like she was walking into a doll's house that someone decided to dig out of the earth. Half-sized furniture filled the hall and she took care not to upset it as she passed. Aside from the height and the underground sensation the burrow was surprisingly comfortable and clean with its plaster walls and bricked floors.

In a small sitting room a halfling man bade them sit, which they did on the floor, not wanting to risk the furniture. Anna bit her lip to keep from laughing at the sight of them all, clutching their knees with their heads not far from the ceiling. Finn noticed Anna's amusement and his eyes laughed back at her. Xan grimaced as his giant elbow nearly tipped over a lamp. Imoen's cheeks pinked with excitement and she looked like she'd start playing with the halflings' wee crockery at any moment. Kivan's face read no reaction; he might have been in a palace or a cornfield for all it seemed to affect him.

"So, ye've returned," the halfling man, who Anna assumed must be Galdolar said. "Been a some days since you left here, we thought you were gone for good." He seemed somewhat disappointed.

"If you had thought to send aid, Mayor Luckyfoot, you will have noticed that the ruins were occupied by Red Wizards who were slain by these brave warriors," Branwen answered.

The mayor's eyes grew wide. "Wizards? Well, maybe I'm not so poorly named but I'm lucky I didn't set a foot out looking for ye. Wolves we can handle, but wizards? I thank you, strangers, for your help. I, _er_, don't suppose you came looking for a reward, did you? We don't keep much gold here, you see…"

"We didn't do it for the gold, although a little coin never hurts," Finn said. "We're here to find out what's going on at Firewine."

"Ah! Now there's something. It's kobolds, you see. They've always been down there but they never caused too much trouble. We keep clear o' them and they keep clear o' us. But lately they've been coming up, attacking the farms, running off with whatever they can get their mitts on. We tried to drive 'em away but it's really getting to be trouble. You big folks might be able to scare 'em off better than us."

"Did you report this to Beregost?" Anna asked.

"Not yet. Despite what you big folks think we can take care of a problem or two by our lonesome. I don't reckon the guard could do much now anyway, not with all these bandit troubles to worry about."

"I suppose not," Jaheira said, then sighed. "We shall explore the ruins and hopefully clear out some of the kobolds for you."

"Thank Yondalla! It's a bit late to head down today, it'd be dark by the time you got there and I don't think the kobolds would appreciate your setting up camp on their doorstep. Why don't you spend the night? We always like a bit of company. Well, usually," the mayor said, looking in Branwen's direction. "Although you might—I'd offer you the guest room, but I don't think you'd find it too comfy…"

"D-don't worry, mayor, we'll be h-happy out of d-doors," Khalid said.

...

The halflings proved a hospitable lot despite their whisperings and the village seemed to take the excuse to throw a party. They placed blankets and rugs down on the village green, filling them with an abundance of food to put Maya to shame. Anna spent most of the evening laughing and chatting and having her small tankard refilled again and again by numerous hands. They seemed to talk in shifts; she'd no sooner start a conversation with one than the halfling would wander off, only to have the thread picked up by another, then picked up again without a skipped beat when the missing halfling wandered back.

The others seemed to enjoy themselves as well but Anna noticed that Xan kept disappearing, only to return again with his face growing more sour every time. She went and plopped herself down next to him.

"What's the matter?" she asked, wiping a bit of spilled ale off the tankard's side.

He grimaced. "It's these halflings. I can't have a moment to myself without a short dozen of them surrounding me and letting loose a barrage of questions. It's all I can do to keep their hands off my blade—it will be nothing short of a miracle if one of them doesn't end up on fire by the night's end."

He wrapped his cloak tighter around the elaborate sword at his waist and looked even more sour.

"Oh, it's just their way. You're something new to them, they probably don't see many elves. I'm sure they'll get tired eventually," Anna replied.

"I keep hoping they'll drink themselves into a stupor but they seem to have supernatural endurance. I'll be studying at three in the morning at this rate."

"Do you really need to study? You must have your spells memorised. All work and no play, and all that," she smiled.

"You could stand to study as well. It isn't all about rote memorisation, you know this. It is meditation, reflection. But by the look of you you're more interested in studying the finer points of the halflings' brewing prowess than expanding your knowledge of the Art," he said, giving her a look.

"I am _not_ drunk. Well, perhaps a little," she snickered. "Still, it's all right. I doubt you'll find the answers to the universe in those pages tonight, but you might have a little fun with the rest of us. These halflings are charming when you get to know them."

"If by charming you mean talking non-stop about nothing in particular then I'll agree. It wears on my nerves, and they are worn enough as it is. Tomorrow we face a ruin filled with yapping beasts and the group look like they won't exactly be steady on their feet. No, you'll pardon me if I don't feel much like joining the little festivities."

Anna was silent, sipping at her ale. The elf said nothing but sat frowning at nothing in particular. Anna spoke quietly.

"Xan..." she began, but he didn't move. "I…I killed a man."

The elf looked at her and she continued.

"The other day. I had to, he was trying to kill me. There was so much blood…not a month ago, I felt bad if I squashed a bug and now…do you understand? I didn't know what I was really getting myself into. You think you know, but you don't…"

She fell quiet again.

"I see," he said slowly. "You mean the bandits that attacked you on the road?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "I am sorry. I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but in my experience it does not. You can only take solace in the fact that this time at least it was him, not you that fell."

"You're right," Anna said. She folded her fingers together and stared at her hands.

"Pardon the question, but why do you mention this now?"

"Because, we're surrounded by so much—tonight, I hope you'll see why I just want to enjoy a laugh. My head will be clear tomorrow, don't worry. But tonight…"

She held out the small tankard in a toast to the air, and took a drink.

"'Let us eat and drink; for tomorrow we shall die'?"

She smiled. "Something like that."

Xan's expression lightened slightly. "Exactly," Anna said. "Now come on, there's a fellow over there that knows more about cheese than you'd ever thought possible. And you were worried you wouldn't learn anything tonight!"

She gathered herself with a laugh and dragged the reluctant elf away.


	21. The Bridge on the Moor

The next morning Anna awoke to Imoen rolling her back and forth in her bedroll.

"Wake up, sleepyhead! Jaheira'll come after us with a stick soon."

"_Urmph,_ right," she yawned and stretched.

Kicking off her blankets she dressed as quickly as she could in the low tent then went out into the morning. The sun was up and it promised to be a fair day. Looking at the glossy full leaves over the hedge she wondered when they turned into their darker shades of summer green. Spring always seemed over in a heartbeat.

The halflings insisted that the group couldn't function without a full breakfast so they ate their fill and then some of sausages, fried eggs and crisp toast. Anna groaned inwardly but she knew better than to try and refuse halfling generosity, especially where food was concerned.

While they were forcing down second helpings her attention moved to Kivan, who was crouching some distance from the others. He hadn't taken much food and remarkably the halflings didn't push him; Anna heard them whispering 'green man' and they largely let him be. He kneeled over a strip of bark, mixing up a batch of thick clay paint. He spoke low to himself and rubbed the blue dye onto his face with his thumb and forefinger.

She'd seen him performing the same ritual every morning since he joined the band; she assumed he was praying but never asked for detail. Kivan was loyal and good but there was something in him that made conversation about any but the most immediate topics difficult, never mind a subject personal as prayer. She turned her eyes from him and let him finish his meditations unobserved.

....

The sun rose higher and they finally managed to escape the halflings' ongoing goodwishes and headed towards the elven ruins of Firewine. They travelled through light forests and small open farms, here and there passing a settlement where halfling children surrounded them, taking the party's hands and chatting happily till they went far enough that their mothers called them back home.

Eventually the forest thinned and the land began to rise, opening into the grassy, rocky, purple and green moorland that stretched for many leagues to the east. Anna had spent most of her life surrounded by woodlands—the sudden emptiness made her feel strange, and she fought against the urge to hide in the grass like a mouse. The sounds of trees and birdsong were replaced by a large stillness that flowed all around them like a tangible force. The soft noise of the wind blowing through the heather and the low voices of the party made no dent in that silence. Here the earth spoke only to itself, and would not be disturbed.

They rested for a time amongst the grasses. Anna lay on her back a little way from the others, watching the flat-bottomed clouds drifting overhead. She heard footsteps and was surprised to see Jaheira come and sit nearby.

"Is it time to march?" Anna asked, sitting up.

"Not yet. I—wanted to get some fresh air," Jaheira said. Anna gave her a puzzled look. "Very well. I could not tolerate any more of that _woman_," she said through clenched teeth.

"Who?"

"Branwen."

"She seems all right, if a touch zealous in her faith."

"Indeed, though it is not her faith that troubles me. Her people have a poor history with mine, and she seems to feel the need to constantly remind me of this."

"But you're from Tethyr, aren't you? Branwen is a Northlander."

"Yes. But I was referring to my druid heritage."

"Ah."

"The Northmen have long battled with the nature-loving Ffolk on the Moonshaes. They are a brutish, coarse culture that has little appreciation for nature beyond what they can wrestle from her by force," Jaheira said.

"I suppose so. I've never had dealings with them. But they are quite a masculine society, I know. That Branwen is a priest and away from her home suggests that she might be more open-minded than many of her kin," Anna offered.

She spoke with a half-hearted optimism; Branwen's less-than-flattering remarks about druids hadn't gone unnoticed by any of them.

Jaheira snorted. "If she is then she hides it well. Those kinds of prejudices run deep, and are not easily overcome. To her, the followers of the Earthmother are weak."

Anna shrugged. "I revere Chauntea and haven't made any pains to hide it, but she hasn't said anything to me. Perhaps she sees something of herself in you. You yourself are somewhat out of place, if you'll pardon my saying so. Not many druids take their weapons and travel far from their groves."

Jaheira looked irritated. "Chauntea is a strange goddess for a mage to worship, if you will likewise pardon my saying."

"I pay homage to Mystra like any mage, but the Earthmother is the goddess of my mother's family. I've always valued of the gifts of the fields, and they're still a vital part of my work—I grow most of the herbs I use myself. I'm surprised you never said more about it, being that you revere Silvanus."

"I largely consider the differences between our faiths to be a matter of semantics." Her eyes still snapped but she spoke thoughtfully. "I've seen much in my travels and I would take pleasant farm country over a filthy, crowded city any day of the year. Farmers may tame and shape nature but at least her presence is still acknowledged, unlike those in the cities who have forgotten her blessed touch. Wild land is superior to farmland but the earth is still better off ground under the plough to seed new life than buried to die under brick."

"I agree. Mostly."

Anna smiled quietly, and unexpectedly the druid's tawny green eyes lightened a little.

"_Fegh_. I will not let petty spite work its way into my skin, but rather teach by example. Come, it is time we were on our way."

She rose up with as much determination as she sat down and walked back to the others. Anna laughed to herself but dusted off her robe and followed her.

....

They hit upon the remains of what looked like an ancient road, now only a depression in the earth. Rising steep ahead of them a tor marked the site of the Firewine ruins, the low elven watchtower still visible on the summit. To the south of the road another much broader depression stretched alongside like a shallow valley.

"This is a strange land," Anna commented to Xan. "There is an…absence here, don't you think?"

The elf nodded. "They say a great river ran here some generations ago, from the mountains down to the sea. I once read a tale that spoke of a giant who had some grievance with my people. He threw massive stones into the river's source, diverting it south through what is now Amn. A somewhat fanciful story. I think it more likely that a landslide or other phenomena shifted its course," he said, looking at the flow of purple heather that supplanted the water.

"I've heard the tale, though in our version it was men who aggrieved the tall one. What makes you so sure it wasn't a giant?" Anna said.

"Well, I don't know about men but the People would not allow a single giant to make off with their water supply."

Anna laughed. "Perhaps not. The ruin is real enough though. Let's hope none of the mysterious giant's descendants are around inspecting his handiwork."

....

As they neared the ruins their pace slowed. Kivan scouted ahead and returned with an obvious rip in his already threadbare cloak.

"The kobolds are clever with their traps," he said, ruefully examining the garment. "They nearly snared me. We should swing around and approach from the south—most of the traps appear set to catch intruders from the west."

Before long Anna saw the Firewine Bridge emerge from the plain, straddling the grassy depression in a graceful arc. It wasn't strictly a ruin; whether by magic or the builders' skill the granite bridge with its two towers remained mostly hale three thousand years after elves abandoned the place. The mystery of the massive bridge in the middle of a plain attracted many adventurers and less pleasant creatures throughout the years but any treasure left by the elves was plundered long ago; those who came now usually found their spoils on the bodies of those that fell before.

"Right, what's our plan here?" Finn said, crouching down, his eyes running over the ruin.

"I have seen but few defenders," Kivan said. "It is difficult to say how many are within that place."

"Well, the kobolds are likely in the dungeon, knowing their habits," Finn answered. "We might be well off doing a plain sweep. If we fight them out here we could have a hundred of them at our backs in a minute."

"True, but their home will be well defended. We will need to step carefully if we venture into the warrens."

"The story of our lives. Unless anyone has any particular objections, I say we go for it."

Seeing the scale of the ruins Anna didn't think that either option was a particularly good one, but she took her place in the file.

....

The mages cast invisibility on the group and Anna followed the sounds of footfalls as they swiftly approached the bridge. A small handful of kobolds guarded the entrance to the southern watchtower but before the invisibility faded they lay dead on the stones, never having time to call out their alarm.

The kobolds had fashioned a rough door to replace the smashed elven one but it was unbarred, and the party stepped cautiously into the tower. Light shone down from the spiral staircase, the wooden roof evidently faring worse over the years than stone. Another staircase wound through the floor into darkness. Finn and Khalid lit torches and Anna drew a deep breath as they headed single file down the narrow stairs.

The staircase ended in an equally narrow hall with another door at its opposite end. Safana ran her hands over it, searching for signs of traps, then lightly tested the lock. On the opposite side Anna heard the snapping and growling of kobolds. Xan spoke quietly and a field of energy surrounded him. Anna followed his lead, and Finn threw open the door to the excited growls of the occupants.

....

A dozen kobolds soon lay dead around the room. Jaheira saw to Imoen, who'd found herself the target of the creatures' small arrows. Tears ran down her face and she shuddered when the druid gently pulled the arrows from her skin but she did not cry out. She noticed Xan staring at the mangled body of a kobold, an obvious expression of loathing and hatred twisting his fine face. Considering his imprisonment she didn't imagine the lizards were heavy favourites of the elf's, but even so his look surprised her. He gave the creature a slight kick with his boot and turned away. Anna felt nervous, knowing the sounds of battle would attract more kobolds before long. Grimly though she reminded herself that that was their entire point for being in this place.

At the back of the room another stair went down, leading to a strange, maze-like complex of hallways and chambers. Dust and the refuse of kobolds littered the stone floors and Anna found herself paying more attention to where she stepped than she should. By the low ceilings Anna reckoned they must be under the old river bed. She was surprised that elves built such an underground fortress, but she'd read enough of elven history to know the fair folk were not always peaceful.

They made their way through the tunnels, scouting for traps and despatching the kobolds they came across. Safana's treasure-hunting experience made her a quick hand with the snares and Imoen watched her work with interest. After awhile Anna found herself relaxing somewhat. Little trouble so far, perhaps this would be an easy mission after all. The sooner they could get out of that dark place, the better.

....

Finn suddenly paused ahead.

"Now who are you?" he said under his breath.

Strangely in that ruin filled with kobolds Anna could see a person walking quietly towards them. He had a slow, hobbling gait but approached without hesitation. Finn hailed him but he did not pause. Something in the man's manner disturbed her and the hairs on Anna's neck prickled.

He entered the light and Finn swore. Pale, rotten flesh covered the man's bones and his eye sockets were dark and empty. The horrible, sickly-sweet scent of death choked in Anna's throat and she stepped back with a cry.

Kivan's arrow struck the creature clean through one empty eye but the zombie didn't flinch. Finn cried out and charged the monster, trying to avoid its flailing limbs as it shuffled in to attack. Jaheira called out not to let the creature touch him. Finn managed somehow to hack it to pieces but the broken limbs had a will of their own, still grabbing and stretching towards his boot. He frantically kicked and stabbed at them but they refused to die.

"The fire, Finn. Burn it!" Anna cried.

He dipped the torch onto the rotten limbs. The flames crept over the decrepit clothing, quickly consuming the flesh. The burning creature smelled even fouler than before but the limbs shuddered and were still.

"By Tempus! Come here," Branwen said.

Finn groaned and clutched at his face. Branwen pulled his hands away and Anna saw in horror that the skin on his face and neck was covered by sick-looking blisters. The cleric placed her hand over the area and spoke, returning the flesh to normal.

"A zombie's touch carries a virulent disease," Jaheira said in disgust. "Silvanus, why are undead here? I cannot imagine that the kobolds have taken it upon themselves to animate the corpses of dead humans."

"If those beasts weren't bad enough, now _this_," Xan said, his voice quaking slightly. His reaction to the kobold paled to the look he gave the zombie; by his face all the foulness in the world was lying charred at his feet.

"Maybe it's a pet," Finn said. Jaheira glared at him. "Whatever. We'll just have to be more careful. Let's get moving."

....

The kobolds became more aggressive and numerous, the party frequently finding themselves attacked from front and rear. Anna's shields held but she had few left and cringed at the thought of being struck by the arrows that whizzed like bees around their heads.

Finally though they discovered the staircase to the other watchtower, and creeping upwards Anna once again smelled the scent of rotting flesh. It reminded her of the golem cave and she shivered. Xan spoke quietly to Finn, calling him to halt.

"There must be more unnatural creatures in that room. A good many, by the smell. We can go back the way we came, there is no need to engage them."

"Why, Xan, are you scared?" Finn said a bit mockingly.

Xan's eyes narrowed. "I am, but that is not the point. I do not ask you to turn around out of fear. Undead are powerful foes and there is no reason for us to throw ourselves into battle with these particular monsters. We came to clear out the kobolds, which we have done. There is no need for us to risk our lives here."

"I wonder if the mayor of the halfling village would agree. I can't wait to tell him that we killed the kobolds but decided to leave the undead for them. They'll be sure to sleep well after that."

"And if we step through that door you might not have a chance to tell him anything. But it is your decision," he said grimly.

"Powerful monsters usually guard valuable items, no?" Safana said. "There has been nothing of worth in this hole and the little mayor doesn't look fit to reward our efforts with anything but a bag of turnips. Our compensation could be in that room."

"Dost ye only ever think of gold, woman?" Branwen said. "We have a duty to protect the halflings by destroying whatever evil resides here, powerful or no. Ignore the elf's cowardice, Finn, I urge you."

Xan shut his mouth tight and he swallowed a reply.

"The thought of these undead fiends turns my heart to ice. But with respect, _Heru en amin_, I do not think we should leave here till our work is finished. But I would follow your command," Kivan said, bowing his head slightly.

"Whatever we're going to do, can we do it quickly?" Anna said.

She could hear quite plainly the sound of a man's voice coming through the door, but there was something odd about his speech. The booming manner reminded Anna of a man talking easily in a tavern—he spoke and laughed heartily and spoke again, but no answering voice could be heard.

Finn drew his sword and advanced slowly up the stairs. The rest followed. Xan let out a long sigh. Anna turned to him but his eyes were focused on the door. Safana checked for traps, and they burst through.

....

A fireplace illuminated the room with a flickering light. A dozen or so zombies were scattered around the chamber, some standing still, others randomly shuffling about. They turned to the party and regarded them with a kind of empty curiosity.

A tall, bearded man sat in a chair before the fire, a goblet poised in the air. He seemed to take no notice of the party and carried on speaking to no one in particular.

"…But of course Marand would say that. His chalice work is so over-exaggerated. You are supposed to praise the morning, not slop holy wine on it. But he thinks he knows best. Dawnbringer Darren just ended up putting that cheese in his robe pockets, stank like hell fire after a few days. Ah, the looks on the faces of the parishioners in the front rows was priceless! Don't think Marand noticed at all. Of course, I don't approve of such behaviour normally, but…"

Finn cleared his throat loudly but the man just kept talking. Anna looked at him. Was she mad…no, she recognised him. She was sure. The names he mentioned…

"…and Oman, now he gives good mass."

_"Bassilus!"_ Anna cried.

The man turned to her. "Oh, you've finally decided to speak up, have you? This has been a one-way conversation. Anyone would start questioning my ego."

"Anna, who the hells is he?" Finn asked, his eyes flicking back and forth between the madman and the zombies who were slowly drawing closer to the party.

"Bassilus—I don't believe it! He's a cleric of Lathander from Beregost who went missing nearly a year ago. They say he just wandered off one night. Everyone thought he was dead—what in all that's holy is he doing here, with zombies of all things?"

"I'd love to ask him. Bassilus, hey, _Bassilus!_" Finn cried.

Bassilus turned. "What? Oh, it's you, Jeffers. That stable cleaned yet?"

"_Um_, yes?" Finn said.

"Good, now you can get to work feeding the dogs. There are a terrible lot of them in the temple for some reason. Always barking…barking…" He shrugged oddly and went back to his one-way conversation.

"Enough of this madman," Kivan said. "We must attack! Those foul beasts have our scent."

"Wait, wait…just let me try," Anna said.

She made a step forward but Finn grabbed her. Standing where she was she called out in a clear voice.

"Dawnmaster Bassilus, it is Mistress Whitehaven. Do you recognise me?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course. The morning's blessing to you. Do you have potions for the temple? Alms are always needed."

"_Ah_, yes, I do. Would you…would you like to come with me and inspect them?"

"Marand deals with all that. I'm busy entertaining friends, my lady."

"Yes, I hate to interrupt your, _ah_, gathering, but you know how _incompetent_ Marand is. He's not likely to know what the temple needs."

Bassilus sighed. "True, very true. Excuse me, my friends."

He rose up out of his chair and approached Anna. Finn stepped in front of her, holding out his blade.

"Jeffers, what are you doing? Get away from the lady, you smell of manure." Finn's mouth opened but he stepped aside slightly, and Bassilus regarded Anna with a serious look. "Well, my lady, where are your potions?"

"They're, _um_, outside, in the cart. Won't you come with me to have a look?"

She reached out a hand, hoping somehow that they could get him out of that place. Bassilus nodded and stepped forward.

"Very well. Darren, help me see to her cart."

He snapped his fingers and a zombie turned towards Anna, shuffling with speed.

"The hells with this," Finn growled.

He dashed towards the zombie. Raising his sword high he grunted, bringing down a massive blow that carved through the rotten bones and split its dusty flesh down to the waist. Finn dropped the torch on the monster and swiftly set it alight. Bassilus stared horrified at the carnage.

"_Darren?_" he cried. "Murder! Murder! Face justice, killer!"

He spoke and grew in size. The other zombies came to life and the party responded. Bassilus grabbed a sword from the wall and slid in to attack. Anna tried to hold him but the spell disintegrated. He spoke an invocation and a mist of red-hot missiles suddenly rained from the air, burning Anna's skin and making her lungs felt like she'd inhaled acid. Coughing she managed to conjure a missile and it exploded in his face. Bassilus turned to her, his face alive with mad anger and red with burned flesh. He charged. From nowhere an arrow pierced his eye. He looked surprised, then fell like a cut tree onto his face. Anna turned back to the zombies.

....

After the battle the clerics stretched their limits curing the zombies' unholy disease. Whatever Jaheira said Anna was glad that Branwen was with them; Jaheira herself never would have been able to cope with the painful, flesh-destroying contagion.

Anna went to Bassilus and turned the strong man over gently as she could. The arrow shaft snapped when he fell, leaving behind a gruesome wound. She covered his face with a kerchief and said a prayer for him.

"He was mad," Finn said, walking up to her. "There wasn't anything we could have done."

She regarded him quietly for a moment.

"He went mad after his wife and children died. The flu was bad in Beregost last winter, and the priests couldn't save everyone. He was said to have cursed Lathander for not protecting his family."

"That's awful. But—he invoked holy power just now. Why did he still have his priest's skills? I can't imagine the Morninglord giving blessings after he cursed him, not to mention making zombies. Lathander hates undead, it's about the worst thing a cleric of his could do."

She sighed and rose. "That poor man. His wife was lovely. But I don't suppose we'll ever know."

"Perhaps this might shed some light," Jaheira said. She gingerly held out a small talisman with a skull on its face. "I found this amongst his things. It is a symbol of Cyric."

"That evil god?" Anna said, surprised. "But he still spoke like a priest of Lathander. Was it his madness, or did the trickster god pollute his mind?"

No one could answer her.

...

Wandering away she noticed Safana wrapping up some gold bejewelled plates and chalices and stowing them in a sack.

"Those are marked with the temple's symbol. We should return them to the priests," Anna said.

"Why? I doubt they need them. We deserve something from all this mess. We can give them news of their missing cleric, that is good deed enough," Safana replied casually, not stopping her work.

"Anna is right," Xan said. "I do not think we are so in need of coin that we must steal from a temple."

"We are not _in_ a temple, serious one."

She smiled and patted his cheek, and the elf pulled away from her touch with a scowl. Safana scoffed and tossed her head.

"These goods are fair game, regardless. Who will miss them?"

"We'll give it back or leave it here. We know who it belongs to, it's not exactly fair game," Finn said.

"Oh, come now," Safana said. "We could melt it down, none would be the wiser. I'm sure the priests would want us to have this reward for what we have done for them."

"What, kill their cleric?"

"Darling Finn, there is no need to make hasty decisions," she said sweetly, but there was an edge in her voice. "I'm sure that you and I can talk it over on the way back, hm?"

She looked at him knowingly and he raised an eyebrow.

"Anyway, I say we get the hells out of here. I've had enough of this bloody place to last a lifetime. Do you think these kobolds looked up to him, or he just scared their little trousers off?" Finn asked, glancing again at Bassilus' corpse. "I'd be running out of here if that guy was in my sitting room, too."

....

The party emerged into the pink light of the setting sun. It gave the grasses a surreal, fairy-like quality and somehow made the towers look more imposing than before. Not wanting to camp in the shadow of the ruins the party walked for a mile or more in the gathering darkness before stopping to rest. As she helped build the fire Anna kept thinking of Bassilus and his zombies. Did he seek to rebuild his former life by naming undead friends? She hoped none of them bore the names of his wife and children.

That night Anna awoke to see the moon flying above, its light making the bare land look awash in snow. Normally the moon was a friend to her but in that place it seemed like a single eye watching unblinking from the heavens. She shivered a little and pulled her blankets closer against the exposed emptiness. Her eyes opened again when she heard Finn moan quietly. Her heart jumped but she realised he was dreaming again. Waking more she heard Safana hissing something at him. Finn seemed to come awake and Anna heard a low discussion. She saw him rise up and walk away from camp. He didn't return. After a time Anna threw back her blankets and followed him.

The night was nearly bright as day and Anna found him easily, sitting amongst the heather.

"What are you doing?" he said low. "It's not your watch."

"It's not yours, either." She sat down beside him. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, Anna, it's fine. Now run along back to bed."

"You were having another nightmare."

"So what if I was?"

He spoke agitatedly and Anna began to feel foolish for following him.

"I'm just worried, is all. I can't imagine the strain you must be under, but still…I could blend a tisane for you to help you sleep, if you like."

"A few stout ales work just as well."

"Was it about Gorion?" she continued quietly.

He grimaced. "Not this time."

"What then?"

He looked like he would deliver another off-hand remark but his face hardened and he drew a breath.

"Cyric."

"What?" Anna said nervously. She could swear the grasses whispered at the sound of his name.

"He spoke to me. Taunted me. I—don't remember what he said, though." He paused. "It was so _real._ To be honest, it scared me. It's stupid to be scared of dreams, I know."

"It isn't. But why would…did you take anything from the ruins?"

"Nothing but the usual scars and bruises."

"Safana took that gold. Perhaps it's cursed? Bassilus had a symbol of the Trickster, who knows what was going on there?"

"You're right. I'll have her dump it tomorrow, no matter what she says." He sighed. "You can go back to bed. No need for both of us to lose sleep over this rubbish. I'm going to sit here for awhile."

Anna sat a minute longer, looking out over the pale expanse of grass. She had the momentary sensation that they two were adrift, alone on an unearthly sea. Finn's eyes were fixed on the dark horizon. She rose and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder. Without looking at her he raised his hand to hers and she felt its warmth for a moment before turning back to camp.


	22. Socializing

Wearily Anna's feet dragged her into Beregost. The halflings decided again to throw a party in their honour and virtually held the group prisoner till they'd been properly fed and watered. Anna looked forward to nothing more than seeing Maya and being home again.

"Listen," Finn said to her as they entered the town. "I think we'll put up at an inn while we're here. Your place tends to get overrun with the lot of us and your housekeeper doesn't exactly give the impression that she likes us there."

"Maya? Oh, she's just a little crusty. Don't worry about her. I can manage to squeeze everyone in."

"Thanks. But we'd be better off at the inn."

He slid his arm around Safana's waist and Anna didn't argue any more.

"We do not necessarily need to rest within walls," Kivan said. "There is more than enough room for us all under the sky."

"Oh, no! I've had my fill of camping. I swear, the knots in my hair have knots of their own!" Imoen said. She ran a hand through her greasy hair and it stuck there. "And my boots are hopeless—the heels are cracked right through. Maybe you could get some new clothes while we're in town, too, Kivan."

"What do you mean?" he glared.

She looked embarrassed. "_Um_, nothing really. It's just that your clothes are a bit…well, I mean your cloak's all torn and…never mind."

Kivan didn't respond and turned his gaze back towards the road.

"Kivan," Anna said slowly, "I own the woodlot next to the cottage. If you wanted, you could stay there. It might be more to your liking than a crowded inn."

"If it would not trouble you then I would be thankful, _arwenamin_."

"Anna. It's Anna," she smiled. "And of course it's no trouble."

....

Anna left the group on the steps of the Jovial Juggler and she and Kivan walked swiftly up the road. Her eyes drank in the familiar sights—the bend in the lane as it curved up a small hill, the little farms tucked away amongst the hills and trees. Her heart felt light and she began almost to skip up the road.

"You must miss your home. Your feet seem ready to take to the skies," Kivan said.

Anna turned to him and made no effort to hide her smile.

"Is it that obvious? Yes, you never know how much you miss it till you're gone."

"Indeed."

They were quiet and Anna's eyes dropped to the frayed and torn fabric that swept around Kivan's boots.

"You know, I could mend that for you," she said. He followed her eyes. "Or Maya could. You wouldn't believe the wonders she can work with thread and needle."

She tried to make the suggestion sound friendly as possible but Kivan's eyes narrowed anyway.

"That will not be necessary."

"It wouldn't be any trouble, I'm sure…" she said, her voice going small.

"_N'Tel'Quess_ are too concerned with appearances. My cloak is fine. I will see to it," he answered tersely.

Anna thought she didn't know of any elves that would wear clothing in such a state either, but kept it to herself.

"It is a fine cloak," she said. The words sounded rather foolish to her but she felt the need to say something to break her companion's icy silence.

"It was a gift," he said flatly.

"Ah." Anna enquired no more.

They approached the house and Kivan gave a quick word of farewell. Before Anna turned he was disappearing into the wood like a deer. She sighed but the awkward conversation sped from her mind as she opened the front door and called out merrily.

....

Near the evening hour Anna once again darkened the steps of the Jovial Juggler. Imoen wrestled a promise earlier to meet at the inn, and though Anna would much prefer spending a quiet night in front of her own fire the girl's enthusiasm wouldn't be denied. So after supper she bathed and changed into one of her best dresses. Though she'd had it for years the blue silk with its delicate, diamond-shaped patterns of silver flattered her more than any other in her wardrobe. She excused herself for wearing it by thinking how it rarely saw the light of day, while denying her choice had anything to do with the rather low neckline.

The Jovial Juggler was a large inn of respectable quality but certain people who might be described as colourful still frequented the place. Not seeing her comrades in the big ground floor common room she made her way to the smaller one upstairs, where she found Finn and Khalid finishing off the remains of their supper.

"Hey, Anna," Finn said, his cheeks already turning pink from the ale. "I almost didn't recognise you. No mage robe? Off duty?" he grinned.

"Good evening Finn, Khalid," she said.

"H-hello," Khalid replied, his cheeks looking nearly pink as Finn's.

"Where's the elf? Did you lose him already?" Finn said.

"Kivan? I haven't seen him this afternoon."

"Yeah, that one. I hope you stuck a bell round his neck afore you let him loose in the woods or we'll never get him back. I think we've still got the other one here somewhere, though." He dipped to look under the table. "Unfortunately."

_Oh, gods_, Anna thought. It was going to be a long evening.

Finn laughed at his own joke. "Imoen said to meet her in her room. That'a'way. Third door on the left." He stuck a thumb towards a hall and picked up a half-eaten chicken wing.

....

Anna sighed and walked on, glad for the excuse not to have to sit down with him. She'd quickly learned that Finn could be borderline insufferable when he lit into the ale. She knocked on the door and Imoen called for her to come in. Anna was surprised to see her gracing a chair, a light blue dress flowing around her. She was even more surprised to see Safana standing behind her fixing her hair.

"Hiya," Imoen said, kicking her heels.

"Hello," Anna said slowly.

"Good evening, Anna," Safana said. "My, such a lovely gown! I am pleased you finally decided to change out of that robe."

_What's wrong with my robe?_ she thought, but ignored the woman's backhanded compliment.

"Where'd you get the dress, Imoen?" she asked, sitting on the bed. "It's pretty."

"We went to the shops! It was Safana's idea. I wouldn't have thought to buy a dress but she thought it'd look nice."

"And it does. The colour looks lovely with your hair. You do have such pretty hair, you should take better care of it," Safana said, tugging lightly at an auburn snarl.

"I know. But it's not something you think about when you're sleeping in a ditch," Imoen said ruefully.

Safana smiled. "There!"

She'd braided the top of Imoen's hair, inserting a glass bead here and there to create a lace-like effect over the front of her head. The back fell in loose curls past her shoulders.

"Is that my hair?" Imoen asked, examining her coif in a hand mirror. "Wow! Thank you so much!"

"Of course. Now you can go make the young men fall over themselves."

"Fat chance," she replied, but her mouth kept grinning.

"Now, you," Safana said, looking at Anna.

"Me?" she exclaimed. "My hair is fine." She ran a hand over the coil of braid on her head.

"Fine for a fifty-year-old governess, perhaps. We will make you look more maiden than old maid, won't we?"

Anna grimaced but Imoen egged her on so reluctantly she sat down on the chair.

"Will you fetch me the bag on the bureau in my room, dear one?" Safana asked Imoen. She tripped off and Safana brushed out Anna's long hair.

"Why are you doing this?" Anna asked.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, come now. We're not exactly friends."

Safana chuckled slightly. "You may find this difficult to believe, but I have no wish to be your enemy. Not over something so silly as a man_._ We ladies need to stick together, no?"

Anna's lip curled. Of all the feelings the thief inspired in her an abstract sense of sisterhood wasn't one.

"Oh, yes. I know what you think of me," Safana said low. "I have met many women like you. They say slut, whore. But whore is just a word for a business woman, isn't it? People cannot stand that a woman would make her way in the world outside the little roles they dream up for her so they make up nasty names instead."

Anna's mouth opened. "I hardly think…"

"Oh, you think. I see your little looks, yes? When you watch me with the man you wanted."

"But I never…" her cheeks turned pink.

"There's no need to be coy, we are just the ladies here," she purred. "You shouldn't let it bother you. There are other fish in the sea, as they say. He is too young for you, anyway."

"Me?" Anna said, feeling her irritation grow. "What about you?"

"Darling, I am only twenty-five!"

Anna scoffed inwardly—the lines around the thief's eyes told a different tale. Anna wouldn't be surprised if Safana was quite a few years her senior.

"Finn is just a boy, really. Well, in some ways." Safana let out a laugh.

"I wouldn't know about that," Anna said dryly.

"I am very surprised?" she laughed again and Anna turned brighter. "Really, you know, you and I have much in common."

"I doubt that very much."

"Did I offend? Poor girl. But we do. We are just two women working our way through the world. You have an independent life, quiet as it is. You play with your little bottles and you answer to no one. The difference is that I go out and find what I want, while you sit patiently with your ankles crossed, waiting for it to come to you."

Anna fumed silently. Who was this woman trying to fool? Fortunately Imoen returned with the bag. Safana pulled out two enameled combs and slid them into the hair behind Anna's ears.

"That's it?" Anna asked. "I can't wear my hair down. This is a tavern."

She pulled the length of it around her shoulder and it coiled in her lap. Imoen was young enough to wear hers down, but that thought reminded Anna of the thief's comment and she frowned.

"I doubt anyone will suspect you of loose morals," the thief laughed, and Imoen giggled.

Safana's own dark hair flowed thick and full around her shoulders and she tossed it slightly, smiling at Anna. She swished her jewel-toned dress out the door and Imoen followed. Anna sighed irritably but followed the women down the hall.

....

The rest of the party already sat around the table. Finn looked up when the women approached.

"My, my, what beautiful ladies of the evening!"

"Finn!" Imoen wailed.

"I meant, what three beautiful ladies we have this evening," he grinned. Imoen slapped him on the arm.

Anna took a chair between Branwen and Khalid. The cleric gripped her tankard and looked disapprovingly at Finn. Jaheira echoed the look and Anna wondered if they realised how similar they looked at that moment. Xan sat staring into his mug of mead. He looked up when the women sat down then dropped his gaze again. Anna was a bit surprised to see him in the noisy common room. He fidgeted and his brow had thunderclouds on it.

Finn raised an arm and an unusually attentive barmaid brought drinks for the women. Anna feared the result but the wine was better than she expected and she sat quietly sipping. Finn, Safana and Imoen were a cosy little group and sat talking and laughing amongst themselves. Imoen seemed to get over her dislike of the other thief fairly quickly, Anna noted with a slight touch of irritation.

Jaheira and Khalid spoke quietly, their conversation marked by pauses. Anna thought that Jaheira kept one ear open for her husband's comments and another directed towards the cheerful trio on her other side. Khalid mostly kept his eyes focused across the room, but what he was looking at Anna couldn't surmise. Branwen did much the same, her eyes examining another corner. Xan kept treating his mead like a scrying bowl.

"So, Branwen, you…" Anna began. The cleric turned her level blue eyes towards her. "Have you been on the mainland long?"

"Three summers now," she replied, taking another drink of ale.

"I see. And how do you…how does it compare to the islands?"

"The islands are colder in winter."

"Indeed," Anna said. She cringed a little. She looked up and saw Xan glancing at her, his chin resting idly on his fist. He didn't need to speak for her to hear his 'it is pointless' conclusion on her efforts. He sighed and went back to studying his drink.

Anna thought to ask Branwen about her family but considering the luck she'd had with that line of conversation recently she decided to let it lie, lest she find out that the cleric's entire family was swallowed whole by gibberlings. Anna took another two swallows of wine. Strangely she found herself fascinated by a primitive painting of a ship hanging on the far wall. She heard excited laughter though and looked to a corner table.

A dark-haired elf sat there, surrounded by a group of attractive young women. Anna couldn't hear his words but he appeared to have the women eating out of his palm, to the obvious annoyance of several men sitting around the room. Little wonder, she thought, as the elf was handsome even by the standards of his race. He told some little joke and his face lit up, sending the women into another round of ecstatic giggles. He happened to notice Anna looking at him and lifted his goblet slightly to her, a knowing smile on his remarkable face. She raised her head and managed to turn from him in a disinterested manner.

...

Branwen emptied her tankard and plainly bade the group goodnight.

"Already? But you can't go to bed," Imoen protested. "We've only all just got here!"

"We have drank. Now I must petition Tempus," Branwen said flatly.

Imoen slowly leaned back in her chair and turned to Finn and Safana. Anna took another sip of wine and spoke to the silent Khalid.

"I wanted to thank you again for helping me with my sparring. You really have patience to put up with me."

"Y-you manage better than you think. You have the d-dexterterity, you just need to be b-bolder," he replied.

"I suppose. I know I'm not aggressive enough," she sighed.

Sparring and duelling were never something she enjoyed. It was an unpleasant feeling, having to treat a comrade like an enemy. The martially-inclined members of the group helped her work on her quarterstaff technique from time to time, but Jaheira acted too much like a drillmaster and Finn seemed to enjoy knocking her off her feet. Khalid however was patient and understanding, an excellent teacher.

Anna began to speak once more but she saw Khalid turned away from her, looking at Jaheira. Her eyes were fixed on Finn. Safana sat on his lap and he caressed her cheek, his lips parted slightly in a small smile. Anna felt that queer feeling in her stomach again and she looked back to Jaheira. The druid cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to the table. Khalid took a drink of ale and said quietly that he was going to bed.

....

Jaheira sat for a while after he departed. She, Anna and Xan were silent. It was a strange table, Anna thought, divided between the mute three and the chattering trio on the other side. Finn finally looked up from his ale, his eyes bright.

"Hey, Jaheira, aren't you going to go entertain your husband? He's probably wondering where you are."

Safana laughed and Imoen giggled, albeit nervously. Jaheira's face was stony.

"Entertain? Is that your word for it, Finn? I am hardly shocked that you would hold such a view, but that is not what a marriage is about."

Her eyes flashed daggers and he started a little. Anna's mouth opened slightly and Xan's eyes drifted up from his mead.

"Sorry. I was only joking."

"I am certain," the druid said, her voice still bathed in ice. "Regardless, I believe I will retire. Goodnight," she said in Anna and Xan's direction.

She walked away stiffly and Finn let out a low whistle.

"Damn. Maybe he could stand to entertain her!"

"Oh, Finn, you shouldn't say stuff like that," Imoen said earnestly. "She doesn't exactly _get_ your humour."

"And that's my fault?"

"Not everyone takes as casual a view on intimacy as you seem to," Xan spoke up.

Finn snorted. "Ah, look, he can speak."

The elf's eyes narrowed but he stayed silent.

"Finn, darling, do not let it worry you," Safana said low, whether about Jaheira's remarks or Xan's Anna couldn't tell. "Perhaps you should give more thought to what we talked about?"

"I told you—no," Finn replied, taking another swig of ale.

Safana looked irritated for a moment but smiled and brushed some dark hair from his eyes.

"I fancy another round," he said. "Where's that barmaid? Haven't seen her in ages. Hells, I'll get it myself."

He rose up unsteadily, clutching at the table. Anna grabbed at her goblet to keep it from being knocked over and looked at Finn. His eyes were red and glassy and there was something in them that troubled her. He gave her a strange look, somewhere between a smile and a sneer before heading off towards the bar. Safana let out a short sigh and followed him. Imoen looked at Anna.

"He might need a hand—I think the drinks would end up on the floor, probably," her mouth smiled but her eyes didn't. She rose up and followed the other two.

....

Anna let out a long sigh and turned to Xan.

"I'm surprised you're still out here."

"So am I. I intend to rectify that shortly," he said. "That red-haired sprite wouldn't stop pounding on my door and I knew I wouldn't get a moment's peace till I agreed to a drink."

"It sounds like a good opportunity to exercise your enchanter's skills," Anna said.

"I was sorely tempted, believe me. I do wish Finn had chosen a quieter inn, but that wouldn't suit him."

Anna looked around the busy room. It was noisy but if not for the tension she could have enjoyed herself. Suddenly she smiled with a recollection.

"I used to sneak away now and again to this place. All the finest bards would stop in Beregost on their way between Amn and the north and the old landlord encouraged them to perform downstairs. I still remember their songs. Unfortunately, Father found out and warded my windows shut. He wasn't very pleased," she laughed.

"A wise decision on his part." Xan took another drink. "What was your father doing here, if you'll permit me to ask? Beregost hardly seems like an ideal location for magical research."

"He was studying ley lines along the Sword Coast. Magical energy hums at an odd pitch in this region, and he was investigating the possibility that the pattern of lines might somehow be responsible."

"Interesting. Although our geomancers concluded long ago that unusual crystalline deposits below ground are mainly responsible. Bedrock composition affects magic—it is one of the first things an elf is taught about practicing the Art. I was under the impression that human wizards generally ignored such subtleties."

"We do not all overlook nuance, Xan," Anna said a bit grimly.

"I travel so much, unfortunately, that the technique is second nature to me," the elf continued, taking no notice of her tone. "I can feel the push and pull of different forces on the Weave and work accordingly."

"Yes, though I've been here for so long I don't think much of it anymore. Regardless, this region seems to be a sort of focus for strange energies. There is something…unsettling here," she grew thoughtful. "It drifts in different degrees, sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker. But always there."

"Indeed," Xan said quietly. "Like a low noise in the background, almost beyond the range of hearing. Perhaps it is related to this region's centre in prophecy."

Anna bit her lip. "Possibly. That was one of the reasons Father was so interested. Although I have to say I hope it isn't true."

"I should imagine. Alaundo said this coast will run red with blood. And it will happen soon."

Anna turned to him. "Do you think so?"

"What else is there to think? The Lord of Murder is dead and so his seed must walk the land even as we speak. One day they will claim their birthright."

"No one is sure that the children of Bhaal even exist. They may just be rumour fuelled by prophecy, an idea promoted by the dead god's followers to create chaos and fear. Personally, I think that if the god did sire so many children they would be known by now."

"An optimistic view," Xan sighed. "I wish they were indeed nothing but rumour. But the first part of the prophecy has come to pass. The second must be true as well."

"Even prophets sometimes get things wrong."

"Not ones such as Alaundo. His truth has ever taken form, though not always in the literal sense that humans look for."

"Alaundo was human," Anna said dryly.

Xan sighed again. "Yes. Remarkable, isn't it?"

Anna bit her tongue. "Excuse me," she said, rising up from the table.

Xan looked surprised by her quick exit but she made her way swiftly down the stairs.


	23. A Sleight of Hand

The downstairs common room was crowded but Anna found a narrow spot on the far end of the bar. She leaned on her elbows on the wood and let out a little agitated puff. She'd almost become used to Xan's niggling remarks but at the right moment they still rankled. His opinion of her magic hadn't moved on much from 'hedgewitch', she thought to her chagrin. It angered her more when she thought of the reason why. The elf rarely mentioned humans in anything other than the negative; to him they could do no right and if they did stumble across something positive it was by pure chance. Of course Xan wasn't usually quite that blatant in his surmises but the undertone was there, pricking at her.

Anna felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to see one of the halflings from Gullykin, his round face flushed by ale into a remarkable impression of a tomato. He enthusiastically called her to the attention of his drinking mates, two rather rough-looking humans of questionable employment. They took an uncomfortable interest in her and she backed away politely as possible, while the halfling's steady stream of words still tried to rein her in.

At a safe distance she turned and went back up the stairs, feeling rather silly for running off in the first place. In her pensive mood she hardly noticed a figure heading down the steps till he wobbled heavily against her.

"_Mph_, my lady, forgive me!"

Anna let out a noise of irritation as he leaned onto her, grabbing at the railing and more than a little of her waist as he tried to steady himself.

"Get—"

The patron fell onto her, cutting off her words. She could feel wine-scented breath on her neck and his hands in places that should earn a slap.

"Now, get off, sir!" Anna cried out.

"Do forgive me, please."

The man leaned back and Anna noticed with surprise that it was the strange elf. He smiled broadly, his turquoise eyes filled with laughter. Making a slightly tipsy bow he departed swiftly down the stairs.

Anna grimaced and re-adjusted her dress. Some men would take any advantage when the drink was in them, she thought. Instinctively she began to feel something was wrong. She felt naked. What was missing? She looked at her dress, felt her purse, then her hand drifted to her neck.

_"No!"_

Her amulet was gone. She'd missed the cool touch on her skin. She looked quickly around at her feet, but the realisation hit her and she flew down the stairs.

She saw the elf by the door. Seeing her expression he dashed outside. Anna called for him to stop but her words were lost in the crowd of the tavern. She had to push her way through the patrons and when she finally made her way outside the elf was nowhere in sight.

Her stomach felt sick. Damn that elf, stealing from her, why did he…

"It was my mother's! Bring it back!" Anna cried out suddenly to the dark, empty street.

She wandered around for awhile, peering into alleys, not expecting to find the thief but hoping just the same. She still couldn't believe that she'd lost her precious necklace in such a way. She crouched down behind the tavern and the night's trials and wine took over and hot tears began to fall.

....

"I never could resist a lady's tears," a musical voice sighed out of the darkness.

Anna looked up, startled. In the light from the street she could just see the offending elf standing over her. She leaped to her feet.

"Give it back! That was my mother's," she repeated, wiping her eyes.

"Did your mother have the blood of my kin?" he said thoughtfully.

Anna could see the flash of silver in his hands as he examined the jewel.

"No. She was just my mother, and she's dead now. That's all I have of her. Please, give it to me."

She darted at the man but he swiftly fell back.

"Ah, had I known…I would never take such an heirloom from a lady. But we cannot turn back the tides." He smiled with all the charm of a true rogue. "My heart longs to return your treasure, my lady, but you see, I need to earn my living. Wine, sadly, is not free, and neither are the maids I share it with."

"How much gold do you want?" Anna asked, still holding her hand out.

"Gold? Let us not speak of such a vulgar thing as money. My business is so much more complex than that. Let me see…what would be a suitable reward for the return of this fair gem?"

Anna advanced on him again and he pulled back once more, clucking at her gently.

"Now, my lady. I can disappear like the shadows, and I should hate to leave before our business is concluded. Let me see…silver, elvish silver, fine work—no diamonds, though, sadly, only semi-precious stones…a bit old-fashioned, too, in the style of a few centuries ago…with depreciation…let me tally—yes. I think I could accept…one kiss for its return," he smiled broadly.

Anna snorted. "Are you joking? Just give it to me, thief."

"How your words wound me! I was not joking. But now the price has risen to two."

Anna forced herself to swallow her anger. She looked into the elf's eyes, alive with mirth and wine and for the first time she was thankful her elven comrades were more subdued examples of their race.

"Very well, then," she murmured, "if that is what it will take, you may claim your prize."

She raised her eyes to him and let them glow. He gave her a cocky smile of triumph and she tensed slightly as the elf's hands slid around her waist. She began whispering under her breath as he leaned in, but when he realised her words weren't sweet nothings he paused and a look of surprise came over his face. Too late he tried to flee and the elf stood stock still, his eyes frozen wide. Anna gave him a crooked smile as she tugged her gem out of his stiff hand.

"You should take greater care in choosing your victims," she said to him. "We are not all as helpless as we might appear."

....

As she stood wondering what to do with the absurd thief she heard her name called from the tavern door. She called back and Finn appeared, followed by Imoen.

"Everything all right? Xan said you ran off and…" He paused when he noticed the elf. "What's this?"

"He tried to rob me," Anna growled.

Finn reached for his sword but she held out a hand.

"No, it's alright," she sighed. "I could be wrong but he seems more of a fop than a dangerous criminal."

"What did he take?" Imoen asked, cautiously looking him over. The girl seemed to have a romantic interest in thieves, Anna noticed.

"My amulet," she replied grimly, securely fastening the chain round her neck once more.

She heard footsteps and Safana appeared. Her eyes ran over the frozen elf with wonder and amusement.

"Is that your doing? Perhaps I should learn some arcane spells. How lovely, to be able to create such fine art with just a whisper."

"Is there a problem?" another voice intoned, and Xan joined the little group. He eyed his frozen kin suspiciously. "What has he—"

.....

Just then the elf came out of Anna's spell and his limbs dropped. He shook quickly like he was brushing off the cold but if he felt alarm at the circle of armed people who'd surrounded him he didn't let it show.

"My, that was clever of you. Well done. Although it wasn't necessary—I'd have returned your jewel, my lady, but you have robbed me of my reward!"

"Reward, indeed!" Anna fumed. "You're lucky all I did was hold you. Running off with my mother's necklace like that…" she grumbled to herself.

"And I did not know of the gem's worth to you, as I said. I am not such a heartless highwayman as that. I certainly value your ladyship's joy over any mere monetary advancement."

He bowed with a flourish to Anna but his charms were lost on her prickles.

"Seldarine, are _Tel'Quess_ really in such a state that we must resort to robbing women in taverns? Your actions are below your race," Xan said, fixing the elf with a firm stare.

"_Mellonamin, amin sana ere' vanim_," the elf replied cheekily.

"I shudder to think. Your attempt at poetry does not make your actions any less reprehensible."

Xan crossed his arms like a disappointed father. The movement revealed the sword at his side and the thief's grin faded rapidly when his eyes rested on the blade. He looked surprised, then embarrassed.

"_Heru en amin,_" he said, bowing low.

"This is sweet. But I think we need to deal with this thief," Finn said, his face growing blacker.

"Deal? What is there to deal? The lady has her jewel back," the elf said, nervously. Finding himself reprimanded by a wielder and having Finn's dark expression towering over him was apparently proving a bit much for even that rogue's honey.

"Oh, Finn, don't…" Anna said. The thief was so ridiculous the sting of his actions was fading already and she didn't want to see him hurt.

Finn's mouth twisted. He grabbed the thief before he could dart off and began to drag him bodily down the street. The surprised elf struggled and cried out in his language but couldn't quite manage to twist free of his grip. The others looked at each other in surprise and hurried after the pair, calling to Finn who ignored their questions and comments.

Not far from the inn the town fountain stood pale in the moonlight. Finn dragged the elf straight up to the side and lifted him off his feet, pausing one moment for effect. The elf howled again as the knowledge of his fate swept over him but his cries were cut off by a mouthful of water. He emerged a streaming, gasping sight, long hair flowing with the water down his face. He pushed it aside and looked with wide eyes at the group.

Anna snorted. She laughed till tears came again at the sight of the dripping, shocked elf. The others bellowed and even Xan apparently stopped worrying about the dignity of the elven race long enough to let out a suspicious-sounding cough into his robe sleeve.

"Come on, let's get back," Finn said, still laughing.

The five drifted towards the tavern, leaving the elf to scramble alone from the fountain. Safana turned her gaze back to him, and Anna thought she saw that familiar predatory smile creep around her mouth. Anna turned to the elf and saw a look almost approaching optimism flash over his wet face before he disappeared into the night.

....

At the tavern door Anna hesitated.

"I think it's time for me to leave," she said. "I've had enough for one evening."

"Yeah? Well, I'll walk you back," Finn said.

"There's no need. The moon is up and I know the road."

"I could use some air. Besides, that thief might still be around."

Anna laughed. "I'd sooner be frightened of a hedgehog. I don't think he'd risk crossing you twice, anyway. It's all right, really."

Finn argued but Anna soon set off on her own. After leaving the houses of Beregost behind she began to regret her decision. The trees darkened the lane and she fancied she heard strange noises in the woods. She paused now and then, looking back into the darkness behind her. Anna tried to shrug off her childlike fear but she still couldn't shake the feeling that something was following her. She wondered where Kivan was. She hurried along and soon she thankfully saw her own dark cottage in the moonlight.

Inside Anna swiftly drew the bolt across the door. She took a deep breath and felt her foolishness pricking at her. Scared of the dark, what next? Still, she couldn't bring herself to go upstairs before she'd checked the doors and windows were fastened securely shut.

...

_"My friend, I steal only beauty."_


	24. Offers

Anna rolled out of bed to bright sunshine. Her last night's fears melted away with the satisfaction of waking up in her own bed and she even managed a laugh thinking of her adventures with the thieving elf. She bounced down the stairs, a song on her lips.

"Well, you're queen of the morning," Maya said sarcastically.

Her large frame was positioned in front of the kitchen grate and black soot clung to her skirts and hands.

"What are you doing?" Anna asked.

"What it looks like I'm doing," the housekeeper said. "Told Sophie yesterday to tend to the fireplace but it's in one ear and out the other. I don't know what's got into that girl anymore."

"I'll have a word with her later. Why don't you let me finish the grate?" Anna offered.

"Yer not the help, miss, as you seem to keep forgetting," Maya replied. She rose up from the floor with a grunt. "_I'll_ talk to that girl, get some sense into her."

She turned and her round jaw suddenly dropped, a small squeak of fear escaping her lips. Anna whirled to see what alarmed the housekeeper and let out a sigh of relief when she saw Kivan standing in the doorway. She began to think that Finn was on to something with his drunken suggestion to put a bell on the silent elf.

"It's alright, Maya. He's a friend," Anna breathed. "Morning, Kivan."

"_'Quel amrun_," he replied, not moving from the step. "Are we to march today?"

"Somehow, I doubt it," Anna said, grimly thinking of Finn's inebriation last night. "I think they were planning on staying in Beregost for a few days."

Kivan scowled. "And with each day the bandits better conceal themselves. They may flee the region for good. We have wasted too much time already, we must find Tazok."

"I know," Anna said. Not for the first time did she wonder why the elf was so determined to find and punish the bandits. "Won't you come in? We can go talk to the others later, see if we can get a plan together."

"No, thank you. I shall return to the forest."

He made a quick bow and disappeared silently as he arrived.

Maya let out a deep breath. "Well! What was that?"

"I told you there was an elf staying in the woodlot," Anna replied.

"An elf you said, not a wild man. Them hides and paint, gods if I didn't know what to think. Scares a body half to death. You sure he's safe to have around? He don't look right to me."

"He's completely trustworthy," Anna said, feeling a little annoyed.

Maya shook her head. "Don't think I'll sleep well knowing that one's lurking around, whatever you say. What's he doing in the wood anyway? House not good enough for him? Not that I'd let him near my beds anyway, I'll bet he's flea-covered as a mangy hound. At least that other elf-fellow you brought home acted a bit civilised, even if his looks could turn cream to vinegar. Why you want to be out running over the countryside with them lot, it's beyond me."

Still shaking her head and grumbling to herself she departed the kitchen. Anna let out a breath and leaned on the heavy oak table. Maya's aggravation sucked the pleasure out of the morning and the sunshine seemed to go flat. Grimly Anna reminded herself that she must go to the temple and inform the priests of Bassilus' death. She'd put the task off knowing that the cleric had no family left in Beregost, but she didn't relish the prospect of telling Kelddath Ormlyr that one of his faithful summoned undead and fell to her companions' hands.

....

Some hours later Anna paused on her way down the marble steps of the High Temple of Lathander. Kelddath had been shocked by her revelation of Bassilus' fate, the news obviously opening up old wounds. She hoped they could retrieve his body from Firewine and give him a proper burial next to his family; he was a good man, in spite of everything that came to pass. Behind her the temple bell struck twice and her feet set off down the steps again. Hopefully Finn would be somewhat coherent by now and she could find out if he had any sort of a plan for their next move.

Hurrying past a large rowan tree she heard a familiar voice sing out.

"A fair afternoon to you, my lady!"

She turned to see last night's elf leaning casually against the tree, eating an apple.

"_You!"_ she exclaimed. "What—what do you want?"

"I merely wished to bid you a good afternoon, but you have rebuffed me once again."

He let out a dramatic sigh and bit into the fruit.

"What were you expecting? You robbed me!"

"Ah, but I also returned. Reciprocity, my lady," he smiled.

"Returned? That's a generous saying. I see you've managed to dry yourself off," Anna replied, a mean smile twisting out of her mouth.

"Fortunately I found a lady kind enough to offer shelter for the night. My suede jacket passed the veil though, I am afraid." He shook his head as if mourning an old friend. "But today I am looking for honest employment. I swear, it's true!" he said, seeing Anna's look.

"Hard labour is served at the jail, not the temple, Master Elf," she said.

"That's not really to my taste. But this is the centre of local affairs, and occasionally they have something to inspire the interest of adventurous sorts such as myself. Today happens to be one of those times."

He took another bite of apple, his eyes casually surveying the horizon. Anna crossed her arms, waiting for the elf to continue but he kept eating.

"Well?" she sighed finally.

"Oh, are you interested?"

She cocked her head and gave him a look.

The elf grinned and tossed away the apple core. "I see you are! I am going to hunt wyverns."

Anna snorted. "You? You can't be serious."

"I can and occasionally am. Yes, wyverns have become a problem in the forest and the proprietor of this charming town will pay excellent gold to anyone brave enough to bring back their heads."

Anna laughed out loud; the idea of the dandy elf hunting dangerous wyrms was beyond absurd.

"Once again, you prick my heart, my lady," the elf sighed. "Do I not seem capable of such a task to you?"

"Not in the least!" Anna said, still laughing.

"Ah, but I assure you that I am quick with a bow as any of my kin, and very often quicker. The bothersome wyverns will not know what hit them."

"And what happens when they charge? A bow is only of use at range."

"Quite correct. Fortunately, I will not be alone."

"Oh? And which unfortunate mercenaries will accompany you?"

"Why, you and your friends, of course!"

"You aren't serious," Anna said.

"You keep saying that. Are you sure you know what it means?"

Anna frowned.

"Never mind," the elf said, laughing. "But as I sat drinking my wine while this lady washed my...back, it occured to me that you would make excellent travelling companions. Think of the honour and fame in travelling with a moonblade wielder! Their exploits are legends of song. Not to mention the pleasure of accompanying the fairer members of the group, that goes without saying."

"I don't think you'd find travelling with our wielder quite up to your expectations," Anna replied. "And despite the fact that no one has asked you, you don't even know what we're doing."

"Does it matter to me?" the elf smiled. "Give me a chance, my lady. If you have some mission I will gladly assist, then perhaps you may find it in your heart to help earn a jingling purse, as well."

Anna put her hands on her hips and looked at the elf. Surely he couldn't be serious—or telling the truth, rather. And the last thing the group needed was another thief, especially one with a slippery tongue and happy hands.

"It isn't my decision," Anna said finally. "You'll have to talk to the others. Although our leader is a somewhat _temperamental_ sort, as I'm sure you learned. If you're willing to face him…"

She paused dramatically but her implications had no visible effect on him.

"Excellent! You are going to see them now, I assume? I shall accompany you." He made a swirly bow. "My lady, Coran of Tethir is at your service. Might my ears have the pleasure of hearing your name?"

"Anna," she said shortly.

"Lady Anna," he took her hand and kissed it. "Or should I say, Queen Anna?"

"Oh, put it away!" she said, pulling her hand back. "Count yourself lucky if you don't get a beating at the inn. Why I'm doing this…and I swear, if anything else goes missing you'll find yourself chased out of town by every monster I can summon, do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Coran smiled, offering Anna his arm.

....

"You can't be serious," Finn exclaimed.

He sat in the common room with a pint of ale, looking the worse for wear. By the state of him Anna reckoned it wasn't his first that afternoon.

Her eyes rolled towards the ceiling. "That's what I said. But he's—insistent."

"Insistent on getting his arse kicked from here to Waterdeep?" Finn glared at the elf.

"_Heh_. Charming. As I explained to the lady, I am quite serious. I'm more than willing to lend my bow to your cause, whatever that might be. I simply crave a bit of adventure," Coran said.

"Fabulous. Tell me why should I think you're out to do anything other than rob us blind?"

"Because, my good sir, Coran is an elf of his word. By my honour I have no designs on your gold, even if I was foolish enough to risk removing it from under your very, _ah_, sturdy nose."

Finn glared harder and Anna perceived a slight gulp in the elf's throat. Finn thought a moment, then sighed.

"No."

"I hope you'd reconsider," Coran began. "I'm certain I could be of help to you."

"And I'm certain we don't need you, and I can't spare an eye watching our kit. Find another patsy."

The handsome elf looked dejected enough that Anna actually began to feel sorry for him. Not sorry enough to argue in his favour, but sorry.

"As you wish then, my lord. Perhaps if our paths cross in the future you will take a more positive view on my companionship."

"Doubtful," Finn said, swigging his ale.

.....

"Well, well…no one told me we had company," a voice purred. Anna turned to see Safana walking up. "I see our rogue has made another appearance. How very bold of you," she smiled at the elf.

"It is my nature," he smiled in return, making a deep bow. "Unfortunately, I must leave. My offer to join your fine group has been refused, I am sorry to say."

"Offer? Finn, you do not mean to tell me that you turned away this fellow?"

"I did."

"Oh, but why? He seems very…agile. Such a pair of hands always has worth."

Finn scowled. "We've got enough agile hands around already."

"But surely we can use all the friends we can get, yes?"

"You've changed your tune."

Safana let out a little sigh. "This is not the same. I am sure this elf would be of use to us, _hm?"_

She gave Finn a fine smile and he sighed raggedly.

"Alright, then," he agreed, then took another drink.

"Excellent!" Coran said. "You are planning to stay the night here, I take it? Then I shall see on getting myself a room. Renting a room of my own—quite a novelty," he chuckled.

"Yes, and the pillows in mine are all hard. I really must speak with the landlord about it. I shall accompany you," Safana said, boldly linking arms with the pleased-looking elf.

....

Finn watched the two depart with a black expression. Anna took a seat next to him. She gathered up her courage and spoke.

"Finn…about Safana…I don't know if…" she broke off.

"What?" he turned to her. "Just be out with it, for once."

Anna looked surprised. "Alright, then. I don't really trust her. She seems…manipulative, to me."

"Really, now. I hadn't noticed."

He raised the tankard and drained the contents.

Anna sighed and rubbed her temple. "Kivan wanted to know when we'd be leaving."

"Tell him if he's in a rush he can bugger off."

"Finn—"

"_What?_"

"What's wrong?" she said. "You seem tired all the time lately. Like you always have something on your mind. And seeing you like this..."

"Hair of the dog. Can't a fellow have a pint without alerting the local morality brigade? You worry too much, Anna."

"I know what I see. It isn't your fault, you know," she said quietly. "Gorion—all these troubles. It's not your fault."

Finn started. "They killed the old man to get at me, if that's not my fault then I don't know what is. But I wasn't thinking of him. Why do you always bring it up? I don't need reminding."

.....

He looked at her with heavy, red eyes. Something was gnawing at him, taking him bit by bit, Anna was sure. She wanted to say something, but there was nothing. Without thinking she put her hand over his, grasping it gently. He slid it away, but leaned in to her.

She let out a small surprised noise in her throat but followed his lips as they caressed hers. He pulled her closer and her hands slid up his arms, feeling of the heat of his skin under the thin tunic. The kiss grew deeper and his palm drifted over her thigh, pulling up her skirts.

She drew back from him and took a gasping breath, feeling her face burning like fire.

"Stop—"

"Yeah," he said, eyes half-lidded. "Maybe you're right."

"I need to go," she said distractedly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Anna—"

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she muttered.

Finn let out a short laugh. "Right. Of course you do. Go on, then."

His fingers gripped the empty tankard with force. Anna hurried out of the tavern in a daze. She bit her tender lip recalling the scent of sweat and alcohol, the rough feeling of his unshaved skin on hers. The times she'd allowed herself to imagine Finn's kiss it wasn't like that. She couldn't let it happen again. Unappealing though it may be he was with Safana, and with all the troubles already facing them she didn't need to add this drama to the list. It was just a foolish, drunken kiss. Except, she wasn't drunk…why did she kiss him back? She bit her lip harder as she knew why.

....

Blindly she hurried back to her cottage, hoping she could escape upstairs without encountering Maya. She paused near the gate.

"Oh, no…"

A familiar horse and carriage were tethered to the fence. It was the last thing she needed at that moment, but she smoothed her hair, took a breath and stepped inside. She heard steps pacing staccato-like in the sitting room and as she walked in a thin, well-dressed man turned to her.

"There you are. Maya said she expected you back from town shortly. That was over an hour ago, Mistress Whitehaven. Normally I wouldn't consider waiting but this is _very_ important."

"Forgive me, Master Wentway," Anna replied. "My, _ah_, business took me longer than I intended. I was not looking for you this afternoon, sir."

"Weren't you?" Wentway exclaimed. "I realise you've been busy saving us all from certain doom, but I hope you'll condescend to remember your contracts with common folk such as myself. You're aware of the day, I trust?"

"The day? Why, it's…" suddenly she stopped, clapping a hand to her mouth.

"Yes, exactly. I take it that expression means you have forgotten?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know how it slipped my mind…I guess I thought, with all the trade troubles recently…" she stammered.

"That our contract that's stood for four years was meaningless? Every summer I join that caravan south, and since trade's picking up again I don't think that's going to change. Now you're telling me I'll look a fool with half-empty wagons?" the merchant fumed.

"Sir, I— To make what you need…it will take nearly a tenday," she cringed.

"The caravan will be in Beregost in two or three days. I've already hired drivers and guards—with your potions missing it will make a considerable dent in my profits. If you can't fill this order I'll see you pay for the expense, or I'll have you up in front of a judge!"

The merchant bellowed with a volume surprising for one of his size. Anna wanted to melt into the floor. If she worked round the clock she couldn't possibly make enough potions to complete the order in time. She needed help. Grimly she thought there was one possibility.

"Master Wentway, I'll do everything I can to get the stock you need, and I'll pay the gold to make up any difference. I'm sorry for all this, again."

The merchant bristled and took a deep breath. "Very well, then. There's little I can do now, anyway. I trust you won't fail me in the future, Mistress Whitehaven."

He stormed away and Anna grasped at the hair at her temples. Why, why, why had she forgotten about the summer caravan? She must be losing her mind. The inn was the last place she wanted to go but she practically ran down the lane towards the town.


	25. Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

Anna prayed that Finn wasn't in the common room. He was. Fortunately he'd joined a game of cards so she was spared from having to speak with him. He looked up surprised when she entered but turned back to his hand with a sour face. Anna hurried breathlessly up the stairs and knocked on a room door, hoping the occupant was in. A slightly plump merchant answered the knock.

"You the one Madame Delia sent? Last girl was prettier. You're a few hours early, too, but what the hells. Come on in."

She stared at the man with her mouth open and his mistake dawned on him.

"Ah, right. Sorry 'bout that, ma'am," he said nonchalantly.

Anna turned on her heel and departed without a word, leaving the merchant standing in the doorway. She knocked on the room next door. Branwen answered.

"Branwen! A…good afternoon. I was actually looking for Xan…" she said.

"And ye expected to find the elf here?" the cleric replied frostily.

"No, no…I must have the wrong room," she smiled sheepishly.

"Indeed you do! The wizard is there," she said, pointing to the room behind Anna.

"Oh. Thank—" the door closed in her face. "—you."

She turned again and rapped on the other door, and the elf appeared.

"Xan! Finally. There you are," she said, a little short of breath.

"Here I am," he said slowly, looking a bit puzzled. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. No. I mean, not _wrong_. But I—oh, dear."

Xan sighed and folded his arms.

"Anna, unless we are under imminent threat I suggest you calm down and say whatever it is you came to say."

"Yes, of course. I was actually hoping that you might give me a little _help_."

"What sort of help, exactly?" he said, somewhat suspicious of her breathless manner.

"Well, I needed to supply some potions, and with all the travelling and everything recently it slipped my mind—and it's just a _bit_ more than I could manage on my own, so I hoped you might…" she looked at him hopefully.

"Is that all?" Xan said, relaxing somewhat. "By your tone one would think a lich took up residence in your cellar and you wanted me to vanquish it with a broom. I suppose I could assist, as we are likely to be in this dull place for some days. A chance to practice some applied alchemy might even be beneficial. What quantity did you need?"

Quietly she told him.

"How many?" he exclaimed. "I said I would help, not become slave labour."

"Xan, please, I know it's a lot to ask but Tom Wentway will have my head if I don't get at least something close to what he wants. Please."

The elf's eyes narrowed and he let out a sigh.

"Thank you!" Anna said. "I need to order up some supplies from town. I'll see you later!"

She promptly turned and fled before Xan could say anything else on the matter.

...

Gently Anna stirred the thick bluish liquid bubbling in the heavy kettle, dipping up spoonfuls and letting them flow slowly back into the pot. The elixir would burn easily and she watched it carefully. She transferred the large wooden spoon from one hand to another and wiped her sweating brow. She checked the liquid again, then quickly grabbed a bowlful of powder and sifted it into the kettle. The contents foamed and the colour changed to a darker hue. She counted to sixty then swung the hook pulling the cauldron away from the fire. The bubbles faded away and she took up a small muslin bag secured to a string, swirling it around in the liquid and speaking under her breath. Before her eyes the contents turned from blue to emerald green. Anna pulled out the bag and gave the kettle another stir, nodding in a satisfied manner.

She heard a knock on the door and called out. Xan stepped in, looking around at the rustic workroom with a barely perceptible sniff. Anna ignored it and gave him a smile.

"Hello, Xan. I didn't hear the doorbell."

"I rang. That dragon of yours directed me upstairs," he sighed. "What have you there?"

"Antidote," Anna replied. "For common and most magical venomous bites and stings, basic poisons, _etcetera_, _etcetera_."

"Yes, I know what antidote is for," Xan said dryly. "What would you have me do?"

Anna thought of a colourful answer to his query but asked him to blend a mixture of bark and bone for elixirs of strength. He laid his spellbook open on the work table and began searching through the pages.

"Oh, there's an alchemy book there," Anna said, nodding to a well-worn book near his hand.

"I see it," he replied, not looking up.

"It's very good, I always refer to it."

"I'm sure," he said, still flipping through his book. "But I would rather use what I am familiar with. I have some formulations here from alchemy masters in Evereska."

"Ah. I suppose mine from the academy in Silverymoon could not hope to compare," Anna said, somewhat bitterly.

"What—you didn't attend there, did you?" he said, looking up.

"Would it surprise you terribly if I said I had?"

"Terribly? No."

Anna sighed a little and went back to her work. The fact that she spent barely a year there whilst studying advanced alchemy would keep, she thought. After a short while she heard the bell tinkling downstairs.

"Finally. That must be the shopboy with the orris root he forgot," Anna said.

She heard quick footsteps on the stairs and was surprised when the door swung open and Imoen breezed in.

"Hello!" she sang out. "I met a lad downstairs, he had this for you." She plunked a sack on the table, making Xan jump. "He's pretty cute. Where does he work?" She grinned and hovered over the elf. "Whatcha' making?"

"Something I'd like to concentrate on, if you don't mind," he said, pulling back.

"Fine, Mister Grumpy. What can I do?" she asked Anna.

"You?" she responded.

"Yeah, Xan said you were working on something big or other and I thought you could use an extra hand. I spent more time than I'd like in the kitchen and I know my way around herbs and things."

"We aren't baking pies, child," Xan said. "This is slightly more complex."

Imoen leaned her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands.

"Anna?"

"Well, you could help with the bottling," she answered. Though she freely admitted an extra pair of hands would be useful she had doubts about Imoen's attention span.

"Great! See, somebody knows how to accept a polite offer. And don't start with the 'child' business, Mister G, I get enough of that from Jaheira."

She gave him a pat on the head and skipped over to Anna. If there were a pitcher of cream in front of Xan it would've turned acidic indeed but he went back to his work with a low grumble.

....

All the rest of the afternoon and into the night they worked. Imoen wasn't the disruptive force Anna feared; the girl worked with a will, proving a surprisingly dab hand at everything set upon her though she still found time to hurl a cheerfully insolent comment towards the elf now and again. Xan however seemed to pay little heed that either of the women were present. At first Anna thought he was deliberately ignoring them but watching him she began to feel he was wrapped up in magic to the point that he took small notice of his surroundings. His face would lighten or darken with the difficulty of a task in an almost childlike way, something Anna found rather endearing in the melancholy elf. He barely nodded when the women finally decided to quit for the night.

"Gods, I never want to handle sealing wax ever again!" Imoen exclaimed as they stumbled into the kitchen for a snack. "Think I burned my fingertips clean off. Though honestly, I'm kind of glad to get away from the inn. Not the best atmosphere over there."

_"Mm,"_ Anna said, her stomach fluttering slightly.

"Finn's been out of it. Tried to talk to him today and he about bit my head off. And I don't know _what's_ going on with Khalid and Jaheira," she continued importantly while wrapping a piece of cold ham in bread. "They seem pretty frosty to each other lately. 'Course, Jaheira could give anybody an ice cream headache, but still…"

"You did really well today," Anna said, wanting to change the subject. "Have you done this sort of thing before?"

Imoen looked pleased. "I studied alchemy with the monks at the temple. It was interesting but the lessons were always in the cellars and it was so dark and cold down there I couldn't wait to get out."

"You studied magic?" Anna asked through bites of her sandwich.

"A little, anyway. Gorion set us to it, but Finn'd always be skipping out on lessons. He kept bugging him to train with the guards and the old man kind of gave up. I liked it more, but—you know."

"No, what?"

"Well, I don't think Gorion had as much an interest in me," Imoen concluded, picking at the bread. "I didn't feel too bad about it, I mean, Finn was his son after all—but I kind of got left out sometimes. Eventually they sent me to the inn to live with Winthrop and his wife, Vera."

"That's a shame," Anna said.

"It was alright. They didn't have any kids so they figured I could take over when they got old. I can't complain really, how many orphans get taken in and given a life like that? I miss the old fogies, you know. Your Maya reminds me a lot of Vera," Imoen smiled. "Though Vera's even bigger!" she added in a whisper. Anna laughed silently.

"You know…I could help you study magic, if you want. Finn said something about it before but he seemed to forget," Anna said ruefully. "I don't know how detailed the lessons would be since we're on the road all the time, but you have talent and it seems a shame to drop it. Maybe when you get back to Candlekeep you can start in earnest again."

"Yeah?" Imoen perked up. "That'd be really cool. _The great and powerful Imoen, potent sorceress and renowned beauty of the Sword Coast_. That works!"

Anna smiled. "I think we'd better start with 'competent novice' and work our way up from there."

"How'd you end up doing this alchemy thing, anyway?" Imoen asked. "If I was a mage I'd be travelling all over, fighting baddies and impressing people with my power."

"You're sort of doing that now," Anna said, laughing a little. "I don't know. My uncle's ranger taught me about plants when I was young, and after I started studying magic it seemed like a natural progression."

"But don't you get bored out here all by yourself?"

Anna started. "I'm not a hermit. There's plenty of people around."

"True, but surely it doesn't compare to adventures, intrigue…romance?" Imoen said impishly.

"_All things have their season_," Anna quoted to her with a bit of a look. "For now though, I'm going to bed."

...

The next morning she found Xan still at work.

"Did you rest at all?" she asked. His eyes looked heavy and his mouth was set.

"Of course. But elves do not require eight hours sleep a night, as you know. I wanted to begin on the invisibility potions, they take time to distil."

"I appreciate all this, but you don't need to work so hard," Anna said, slipping into her robe.

"Would you rather I quit halfway though? Speaking of which, I noticed Imoen tripping off."

"She's just gone to see what the word is at the inn. I think I might start teaching her magic," Anna said.

"What?" Xan said, turning to her. "Magic in that girl's hands? Seldarine, we _are_ doomed. She'll blow us all to pieces."

"I think she'll do quite well," she replied. "She's not as foolish as she appears. Why did you invite her along yesterday, if you feel so?"

"I did no such thing. She ambushed me in the hall and wouldn't let me pass till I'd made a full confession. The last thing we needed was her here, chattering like a chipmunk."

She swallowed a smile and went back to work. Imoen at first glance hardly seemed like the sort to devote the time to magical study. But seeing her at work Anna realised what she guessed at before, that there was more to Imoen than pixie and she felt irritated with the elf for refusing to see beyond the obvious. Eventually though she lost herself in her work and thoughts of Xan and Imoen drifted out of her mind.

....

She weighed out a number of small phantom crystals, placed them in a rough stone mortar and began carefully grinding them down into a powder. Xan looked up.

"You should grind those in a marble mortar, that stone will leave impurities behind."

"Stone grinds them easier. The impurities will come out when it's distilled, it won't change the potions' effectiveness," Anna said, not stopping.

"It's no excuse to cut corners. Your magical technique can be sloppy at times, if you'll pardon me for saying so."

"Sloppy? Taking time-saving measures isn't sloppy, it's practical." Anna exclaimed.

"Perhaps. But to use a gardening metaphor, it is the difference between blindly scattering seeds to the wind and taking heed to the soil, weather and moon. Both may result in growth, but which will bring a better harvest? You cast your spells but I wonder how much appreciation you truly have for their causes and results."

"You think me heedless?" Anna said, becoming irritated. "You may be more skilled than I, but you are not so much more powerful that you can speak to me in such a way. I rarely have a spell fail."

Xan sighed. "Very well. Feel free to keep banging on in your fashion."

Anna set down the pestle and looked at him. "Fine. Tell me what it is you would have me know, that you seem to feel I don't understand."

"Tell you?" he scoffed. "It is not something I could relate in an afternoon, or even your entire lifetime. Even I do not fully understand the mystery and I have studied the arcane for centuries. Though perhaps I shouldn't chastise, that you cast spells like you do at all is remarkable."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. We should carry on."

"No, what is it? I—" Anna paused. "_Oh_. Yes. Of course." She grimly went back to her task.

The elf said nothing and they continued in silence. Anna fumed inwardly though and she dropped her pestle again.

"So, Xan, if you have been studying magic for centuries, why are you not as powerful as Elminster by now? I would have thought you would be very far above me in skill, at least. But you are not."

The elf's eyes snapped.

"_Amadahin_," he said under his breath. "Rapid advancement is not always a desirable goal."

Anna flashed back. "I'm not a child, Xan, and I could be wrong but I do not think myself a fool, either." He looked surprised. "It was a simple enough question."

"Simple? Hardly. It was a bait," he said flatly. "You are not a fool, I suppose, I apologise for that. But you cannot be, what, twenty years of age? Or forty. Regardless, a true understanding of a subject as complex as the arcane art cannot be reached in so short a time. And you…no. I do not want to continue this conversation. It is pointless."

"I'm twenty-eight, if you must know. But you're right, it is pointless," Anna replied.

The elf's nerve pricked at her. So what if he had hundreds of years to tinker around with one accent on one syllable? Higher understanding or no her magic worked as well as his any day. Though the thought that she would never know one way or another irked her. It wasn't an argument she could win. Stress built in her and she felt fit to burst.

"I swear, Xan—one of these days, I'm going to take you by the ears and box you around!" she blurted out suddenly.

She regretted the childish statement the moment it passed her lips, her irritated outburst just proving his argument for him. The threat seemed to have an unexpected reaction though and Xan noticeably started, his cheeks pinking slightly.

"_Ah_, yes. Well, at least I was near the mean."

Looking at the expression on his face Anna felt her anger dissipate. The absurdity struck her and laughter bubbled up. Xan stared at her.

"Why, are you laughing now? You truly are young."

"Yes, if I ever grow too old to laugh at nonsense than I am too old, indeed," she said, smiling into his frown. She gathered her breath. "I'll throw out this batch and do up another in the marble mortar."

"No, it's all right. It would be pointless to waste components. As you say, the potions will still be effective," Xan said slowly.

Anna said nothing and went cautiously back to her work, lest Xan find another flaw.

...

After some time Imoen returned, looking considerably less enthusiastic than the day before. She had little to say about news from the inn and went about the task that Anna assigned her without comment. Anna thought at first she was reluctant to help but her tight mouth and worried eyes spoke of more than boredom.

"Is something wrong?" she asked her finally.

"No…but—Xan, by the way, we've all moved to the Burning Wizard. Don't worry, they grabbed your things."

"What? Why?" he said, looking up.

"Well, there was a little…problem last night. Finn got into a fight or something—no big deal, but the landlord asked us to leave."

She spoke quickly and quietly, trying to sound casual. Anna and Xan both stared at the girl.

"Imoen, _what_ happened?" Anna asked.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, exasperated. "Something to do with cards, money…stupid stuff. It wasn't Finn's fault, it's all right now."

"Seldarine, I knew he would land us into trouble eventually," Xan exclaimed. "Let me read between the lines—he became soaked in ale and decided to take a swing at some unfortunate soul. Wonderful. Were the guards involved?"

"He wasn't arrested!" Imoen almost shouted. "It wasn't like you said, either. Some fellow was cheating him. Can we just shut up about this now, please?"

She threw out a hand as if to push the conversation aside and knocked a glass retort off the table into Xan's lap. He let out a yelp as the liquid soaked his robe. He managed to catch up the hot bottle in his sleeve but as he jumped to his feet Anna let out a gasp. Where the liquid touched the fabric Xan was no longer visible. Half of his legs were missing and streaks of him melted into the ether as the potion trickled to the floor. He gritted his teeth and let out an elvish word that Anna wasn't familiar with but whose meaning she guessed.

Imoen clasped her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide.

"Xan—I am so sorry!"

"_Sorry!_" He continued fuming at her as he hastily removed the garment. "Supposing that had been acid? Would you still be sorry then? Clumsy fool!"

"It—it was just an accident," Imoen stammered. "You're all right, aren't you?" Her face was red and Anna could see her eyes growing wet.

"He's fine—he's fine," she said. "It's just invisibility potion, it will wear off."

"In a tenday!" he exclaimed. "It wasn't fully distilled. I'm lucky it just hit my robe. It could have ruined my spellbook."

Anna looked at the girl on the verge of tears and the apoplectic elf and let out a haggard sigh.

"Imoen, it's all right. Xan, I have some powder of dispelling that I keep for emergencies—it should lessen the potion's duration, anyway. Why don't you take it into the garden and see how it goes?"

She pulled a jar off a shelf and handed it to the steaming elf who marched out of the room. Anna replaced the retort and waved a hand to extinguish the blue magical fire that burned underneath the bottle. She took a reserved handful of golden powder and carefully sprinkled it over the liquid on the floor, causing the wood to become visible once more. Straightening up she looked at Imoen. The girl trembled and clutched at her shoulders, wiping a stray tear away from her cheek.

"It's okay," Anna said, smiling in sympathy. "I'm sure even the all-knowing Xan has spilled a potion or two in his life. He'll get over it."

"I don't care about him," Imoen sniffed. "It's Finn. He's doing it again, and I don't know what to do."

"Doing what?" she asked, directing the girl to the window seat.

"All this. I didn't want to say anything with that snooty bastard elf standing there, but this isn't the first fight Finn's been in. He…he almost _killed_ a fellow back home. He practically beat him to death. The guard captain ruled the other guy was to blame, but still…he was starting to scare me," she said, her voice wobbling. "It's like he wasn't himself anymore. He'd be all normal then something'd set him off. He was doing better but then all this with Gorion happened—now he's going downhill again, and I don't know what to do..."

She trailed off and stared at the handkerchief she twisted in her hands. Anna felt a chill run through her but she pulled the girl close and gave her a hug.

"It'll be alright," she soothed. "You're not alone here. We'll get some sense into him."

"Thanks," Imoen replied, trying to smile. "But...don't tell anyone about this, will you?"

"About Finn? Why?"

"Just...I don't like to talk about it. It's all past now, anyway. Please?"

"Alright, I won't," Anna promised.

...

Xan walked into the room, his robe mostly back to normal but still vaguely transparent in spots. He saw Imoen's expression and looked startled.

"The powder worked well. I—I am sorry for my outburst, it was uncalled for," he said to Imoen. "Perhaps I was working too hard, I do tend to get carried away by my studies and it can leave me somewhat…"

"...Bitchy?" Imoen interrupted.

Xan's mouth twitched. "Not the exact word I was thinking of, but accurate."

He looked at Anna and she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. He must have read something in hers however for his expression fell serious once more.

"Well," Anna said, clearing her throat. "Thank you both so much for your help but I think I can finish here, you don't need to trouble yourselves further. I'll take care of the rest…"

She stood up and began moving around the room, trying to hide her distraction.

Imoen rose. "Will you come by the inn later?" she squeaked.

Anna nodded and Imoen hurried away without another word. Xan remained, staring at the leftover potion in the retort. Anna turned to him but the words froze in her mouth and she looked quickly at the low fire on the hearth.

"Anna…what is the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied a little too quickly. "Thank you, but you can leave too if you want. I'm sure you have magic of your own to work on." She laughed nervously.

He regarded her for a moment then let out a sigh. "Very well. I believe I shall find Kivan, I should speak with him."

He made a slight bow and departed. Anna tugged on her amulet chain and wandered over to the window, staring out at the garden, thinking.


	26. Inn Hopping

That evening Anna approached the Burning Wizard thinking she'd had her fill of taverns for some time. She'd spent the afternoon packing potion bottles into straw-filled crates, ready for Wentway's inspection. The order wasn't full; the longer-brewing elixirs were missing but there was enough to keep the prickly merchant from pursuing legal action, she hoped.

The inn was more down-at-heel than the Jovial Juggler; it was once a fine place but changing hands and fortunes meant that much of its gilt went to the wayside. The common room was dim with most of the light coming from the fireplace, the landlord evidently not wanting to spent more precious money on tallow than necessary.

Anna found Khalid and Jaheira sitting at a table in the far end of the room. Jaheira waved her over.

"So, these are new surroundings," Anna greeted them sombrely.

"Indeed, Feldepost's would be better but the landlord there is no friend of ours anymore, either. We shall find ourselves run out of town if we are not careful," the druid replied grimly.

"I d-don't think you mean 'we', m-my love," Khalid stuttered. Anna noticed an edge to his voice she hadn't heard before.

"Finn, then," Jaheira said, exasperated.

"What happened last night?" Anna asked.

Jaheira's eyes narrowed. "I was not witness to events, but from what I gather Finn had the misfortune to play cards with a man in the possession of a magical deck. I do not know how he discovered the ruse but he was not pleased, to put it mildly. That fool!" she spat suddenly. "We need to travel onwards, and soon. Finn is not a man for idleness—devils make short work of his hands."

"Where is he?" Anna said.

"In his room. I made it clear that he should remain out of the common room tonight. He needs to give the ale a rest."

Anna imagined Finn's reaction to Jaheira's effectively grounding him would not have been pleasant. She looked up to see Imoen standing on the stairs. Her eyes scanned the room and when she saw Anna she came rather briskly up to the table.

"Hi, Anna," she began, trying to put on a smile. "I've got some of those incantations worked out—do you want to come up and hear them?"

Anna looked at her. She hadn't assigned the girl any studies, but there was more trouble in her worried eyes.

"Of course, I'd be happy to. Excuse me," she said to the couple.

....

"Imoen, what is it?" she hissed once they were safely on the stairs.

"Finn's gone," she squeaked. "I went to his room awhile ago and he's not there. I don't know where he is and I'm worried he's going to get into more trouble."

"Is Safana with him?"

"No," Imoen's voice sounded queer. "She's here, or she was earlier, anyway."

Imoen showed her to the thief's room and Anna rapped impatiently. After a moment the Calishite woman opened the door a crack.

"Doing a bed-check? I'm snug as can be here," she smiled at Anna.

"Is Finn with you?" Anna asked.

"No, dear, and in his mood I'm rather glad he isn't. I have little patience for brawlers," she sniffed.

"Well, do you know where he might be?"

"I am not his keeper. If he is not in his room then I know not where he is."

"I'd like to think you have some interest in the welfare of your lover," Anna said coolly. "Why don't you help us find him?"

Safana waved a hand. "He is a big boy, yes? He will be fine. What exactly do you think you can do even if you find him in the night? You cannot stop a man who is determined to find trouble. Our little group already has one clucking hen, do not become another."

"I insist," Anna said firmly, ignoring her comments.

Safana let out a little sigh. "Very well. Wait a moment while I fetch my cloak."

She shut the door in Anna's face then slipped out a few minutes later, adjusting the grey material around her neck.

"Well, then, where shall we begin?" Safana said to Anna with a smile.

"This town has more taverns than are good for it, he's probably in one. Though we need to get past Jaheira and Khalid—if we leave they're sure to know something's up," Anna said thoughtfully. "But how can we get out without going through the common room? I don't have invisibility memorised just now."

Safana gave a worldly sigh. "For a woman who devotes her life to books you have little imagination. Follow me."

She strode to the end of the hall and leaned out the open window.

"This will do. Come!"

"Are you mad?" Anna said.

"There is a roof just below, and it is not six feet to the ground from there. Easy."

Safana expertly disappeared out the window. Imoen's face brightened at the prospect of the unusual exit and followed suit, albeit with less finesse than Safana. Anna heard her yelp as her feet hit the roof. Anna made an irritated noise and looked back at the empty hall. The last thing she needed was someone watching Mistress Whitehaven slipping out a tavern window, she'd never hear the end of it. She looked down at the narrow, slanting roof some feet below, and the two women looking up expectantly from the alley. Awkwardly she forced herself out the none-too-wide window, hitching up her skirts to an indecent height as she went. She dropped onto the roof and had to throw herself against the wall to keep from falling head-first to the ground. Moving carefully to the edge she thought that the ground looked much further than six feet but forced herself to leap. She landed hard and rocked backwards onto the paving stones.

_"Ouch,"_ she said, rising from her ungraceful entrance.

"Well done," Safana laughed. "Now, shall we find that boy?"

...

Finn wasn't likely to be in Feldepost's, and the landlord of the Juggler would have him thrown out on sight. They decided to try the Red Sheaf Inn. The Sheaf was well-known for its selection of ales though their few bedrooms had a bad reputation with travellers for small guests of the bloodthirsty variety, and the place functioned more as a tavern than an inn. At that hour of the evening business was at its peak and the common room buzzed with activity. The women worked their way through the crowd, looking for a sign of their quarry. The din of the tavern rang in Anna's ears and she paid no heed to the guitar-strumming minstrel who sat on a small corner stage till words tickled in her ear.

"_See the lady, fair and gold; Prithee, sir, would'st ye think it bold; To ask of her to join me here; And share with me the landlord's beer?"_

Anna looked at him, mouth open in surprise. The bard gave her a wide smile and continued.

"_Yes, my maiden, it is true; Garrick sings his song for you; Like courtly bards in days of yore; For a tuppence I will sing some more_."

"I'll give ye bleedin' guinea to sing _no_ more!" a voice called out suddenly.

"Aye, that or a swift kick up the arse!" another replied.

"Ridicule is naught to be scared of, my jolly men!" the bard heckled back.

His pleasant yet shallow-looking boy's face smiled at Anna. Youth did not suit the young man and it was a face that needed more summers on it.

"Now, my lady, what song shall I sing for you this fair eve?"

"I'm afraid I have no coin," Anna said, walking on and trying not to laugh.

"Do not take my little rhyme too much to heart, good lady. I would sing for thee even if each note cost me a coin of gold."

"Thank you sir, but I am in something of a rush, I'm afraid."

"Ah! More's the pity. But hark—_Summer's wine in summer's vale; Years could never tell the tale; Of sultry days under sultry sun; The dusky maid my heart has won_."

Anna looked around to see Safana walking up, regarding the bard's croon with amusement. Anna felt the slightest twinge of jealousy that the Calishite woman's rhyme was something more approaching a song than the cheeky limerick she earned.

"Finn is not here, it would seem," the thief said. She tossed the bard a coin with a sweet smile.

He grinned. "_Snowy white and rosy red; Many a young man's heart has fed—_"

"Oh, can we be away from here?" Anna exclaimed as Imoen approached.

....

The three women ventured to the other public houses in town with no success.

"It is as I told you," Safana said. "If Finn does not want to be found, you will not find him."

"Isn't there anywhere else he might go?" Imoen asked.

"The only tavern left is—gods, I don't want to go there," Anna replied.

"Where?" said Imoen.

"The Bull. A place with a…reputation, to say the least."

"The _first_ place I would have looked," Safana said.

"Imoen—why don't you go back to the inn? You never know, Finn might have come back," Anna said.

The girl protested but Anna cajoled her into heading back to the Burning Wizard.

"How very chivalrous of you," Safana said when she'd departed.

"It's hardly the place for a young girl," Anna said.

"I agree. That child is too naïve. But then, she will have to learn about men sooner or later."

_Men, not animals_, Anna thought grimly as they made their way to the tavern.

...

The Bull was on the northern side of town, sitting off on its own as though the other buildings would not associate with it. Its sign of a crimson bull dangled half-off its post. A group of hard-faced men hung about the door and a low, almost sinister murmur came from inside the pub. Anna held her head up and looked straight ahead as they entered. The men watched Anna and Safana but offered no comment. A few scantily-clad women worked their way around the room but the majority of the patrons were male. Anna felt eyes on them as they looked around the room for Finn. They received a few catcalls but even that behaviour seemed disturbingly reserved, like the room was holding something back for later. A swift glance around the room was all Anna needed to convince herself that Finn was not there.

"Let's go," she said to Safana.

"What, are you finally giving up? Thank goodness. Since we are here, why not see if we can find some men to buy us a drink? It seems pointless to fully waste the evening."

"Here?" Anna exclaimed. "Safana—this place is a…it's…"

"A brothel?" the thief said matter-of-factly. "I have eyes. You may say the word—simply saying it does not turn you into a prostitute."

Anna's face felt hot. "Indeed. But you'll forgive me if I'd rather not stay."

"Oh, come! Such places can be entertaining. Here—I will even buy the drinks myself, no question of _impropriety_ for the lady."

She laughed in a way that made Anna feel a prudish fool. Grimly she consented to a goblet of rather acidic wine and Safana found them a seat at a small corner table. The thief sat with her back to the wall, her eyes looking out casually over the room. Anna felt uncomfortable with the patrons behind her but this way at least she had an excuse not to make eye contact.

"You may relax, dear," Safana said, sipping her wine. "You sit as if you expect your chair to bite you."

Anna fidgeted. "This is not a place for looking too casual."

"No, perhaps not. But there is much to see, much about life to be learned in places such as these. Look around. Not everyone here is an unwashed."

Anna turned her head slightly. Amongst the groups of ruffians she saw a few more respectable-looking men. Her eyes rested on one man in particular and she turned quickly back around.

"It's more than I needed to learn—that one is my butcher, and the woman on his lap isn't his wife!" Anna said in a loud whisper.

Safana laughed. "I imagine that many of the men here have someone waiting with a rolling pin at home."

"It's shameful," Anna said. "I can't imagine what I'd do if I found my husband in such a place as this."

"Realise that he is a man, doing what men do?" Safana replied, a twinkle in her eye.

Anna gave her a look. "Hardly. Could you honestly tell me that you wouldn't care if you discovered your husband here, consorting with these women?"

"If _my_ husband were here…" the thief began. "No, I would not be pleased. But I would hope to have enough…influence over him that he would not feel the need to attend."

Anna thought a strange look passed over Safana's face, a cross between rage and disgust.

"I suppose it hardly matters, as neither of us are married," she said slowly.

"It is not a state I would recommend," Safana replied.

"What? Are you saying—you're married?" Anna said, surprised.

Safana's attractive face turned black and she lost the cool composure she usually expressed, taken aback by the question.

"If you would call it that. I do not," she frowned. "My father married me off when I was barely fifteen to one of his business partners. A man older than my father, with two wives already."

Anna started. "That's—horrible. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. Why would you? I do not advertise. It hardly matters now anyway, the old man is dead."

Something in her tone made Anna doubt the last statement. Both women were silent. Safana kept her eyes focused somewhere in the room, a tightness forming around her mouth.

"But, how did you…" Anna said, fishing for words.

Safana gave Anna a hard look, as if deciding whether or not to continue. She sighed though.

"I was hardly unique, such marriages are common amongst the wealthy classes in my country. I could not bear it though—having that old man sweating over me, being under the thumb of his jealous, harpy-wives. I was raised on tales of romance and passion, and to see that would be my life—no." She paused and a little smile crept over her face. "One night, I disguised myself as a boy and hid aboard a ship heading north. Of course I was discovered before long. The captain would have thrown me to the sharks but he realised what I was. I paid for my passage in his cabin…then in Murann I slipped away again. Ever since I have travelled, always finding my way, whatever way I could."

She uttered the last statement with pride. Anna felt ill, and though she could never imagine the prospect before she actually felt pity for Safana.

"But haven't you ever wanted a real life—a loving husband, a home, a family of your own?" Anna asked.

Safana grimaced. "My life has been very real, I assure you. But how do you think I could have a marriage, being married already? A triviality to be sure, I never chose to marry the man. As for children…I was not alone in that first flight. Whether the child was my husband's or the ship captain's I never knew. It mattered not. I left her on a temple doorstep."

"Safana!" Anna cried.

"Oh, what? Would you have me raise the child? A fine life I would have given her, she was better off that way. I left her with a few coins. And a prayer. I prayed that she would be nothing other than a silly, brainless girl. Then she would never care about a loveless marriage, an empty life—only that her dresses were pretty. Then perhaps, she could be happy."

Anna stared at the thief, stunned into silence. Safana had a haughty look but her eyes were bright. Anna felt she truly meant those words.

"But that's all in the past," Anna said slowly. "You could do—something, anything. You will come to a bad end, if you carry on this way."

Safana sneered. "And so will you, innocent one. But at least, it will be _my_ end. I will chose my fate."

The women returned to silence. Anna felt frozen from shock at Safana's revelations, and though she wanted nothing more than to flee that dank-smelling place she stayed stiffly rooted to her chair. Safana tossed her head a little, lost in some thought. Her mouth stayed grim.

....

In her state Anna was barely aware of a round of catcalls rising up behind her and it took her a moment to register the lilting voice that spoke at her side.

"Ah, imagine finding two fair flowers blooming in such a wasteland! I would not have dreamed to find you ladies here this eve."

Anna looked up to see Coran leaning over, a wide smile on his beautiful face. She greeted him but felt the mooning elf was the last person she wished to endure at that moment. Even Safana treated him frostily.

"Indeed? And what brings you here? This is not a place for young boys," the thief remarked.

Coran looked taken aback. "Boy, my fair one? I have been a man for likely longer than any of these fellows has been alive, and I assure you I have not been idle in that time." He gave a knowing look that was lost on the two women.

"Age has little to do with wisdom," Anna found herself saying.

"I agree, my pet. Though I never claimed to be wise, only skilled." He grinned again. "In answer to my lady's question, though, I came looking for excitement." He gave Safana a subtle wink. "Beregost is a pleasant little town but its charms grow stale after a few days."

"Well, then—I am certain that the proprietress of this tavern can assist you in your search," Safana said with a smile, regaining some of her lost charm.

"You wound me! I am not so desperate that I must resort to hiring my evening's entertainment. And a fortunate thing, that," he said, glancing at the rough-looking working women.

"Then why come here?" Anna asked. "By the sounds of things when you entered you might have become entertainment yourself."

"Envy, pure and simple. But you are correct—this is hardly a place for three beautiful people to spend an eve. I would be most honoured if you ladies would accompany me in a drink at a more respectable tavern."

He made a lithe bow and Safana's eyes twinkled. "I am certain I would be pleased to join you. I have been waiting for a man to buy me a drink all night!"

"Then wait no longer," he replied, eyes shining back. "And you, Lady Anna? May I have the pleasure of gazing into your emerald eyes this evening?"

"My eyes will be busy, I'm afraid," Anna said shortly. "I must keep looking for Finn."

"Are you seeking our prize fighter? I saw him walking down to the river some hours ago," Coran said.

"River?" Anna repeated.

"Yes, the way down to the mill. I hope he wasn't feeling disenchanted."

He grinned at Safana and the three rose and departed. If Finn was at the mill earlier it didn't seem likely that he would still be there, Anna thought, but it was a fine night with a good moon and the hour wasn't too late. She decided to look before heading back to the Wizard.

"Are you certain, Anna?" Coran said when she announced her plan. "There are some unpleasant individuals lurking in the darking hour."

"It's near to the town, I'll be fine," Anna replied.

"Yes, she will be fine. She is a mage, as you know," Safana let out a little laugh. "Come, let us go to Feldepost's, they have the finest wines," she said, taking the elf by the arm.


	27. The Rag and Bone Man

Anna watched Safana and Coran step off with a raised eyebrow but she turned and headed down the hill to the small, shallow river that flowed past Beregost. The night was warm and the moon's light frosted over the nearby stars. The walk to the old mill was a pleasant path but at that hour only a stray fox made company. Anna was not exactly afraid to wander amongst the dark trees but she lifted the hem of her dress and strode lightly, keeping her eyes open.

She moved in and out of the patches of moonlight that broke between the branches and made the shadows seem even deeper. The dark and quiet troubled her more than she would admit though, and as she stepped over a little rise in the path she thought again that this was a rather foolish undertaking. She made up her mind to turn back when low voices startled her. Just off the path she could vaguely make out two figures standing together under a tree. She could see little in the dim light but Anna was surprised to hear them speaking Elvish. Though she couldn't make out what they said she realised one of the voices was familiar. They seemed to notice her the same time she noticed them and the strange voice whispered angrily.

"_En! Kela tuulo' lye, N'Tel'Quess,_" the woman's voice exclaimed. She spoke again to Anna. "Can not two lovers find a moment of privacy? We would like to be alone, my good woman."

The words were meant to be casual but Anna heard a sharp tone in her lilting voice. The woman turned towards her and in the dim moonlight she noticed a silvery flash of mail and the outline of a sword under her pale cloak. Anna stood awkwardly but the familiar voice spoke.

"_Uuma dela._ It is one of my travelling companions. Anna, what in heaven are you doing here?"

She relaxed somewhat recognising the enchanter's tone.

"Xan? I was looking for—it's not important. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"Do not concern yourself," he sighed. "But if you do not require assistance, will you excuse us?"

"Of course, I'm sorry. Good evening," she said, bowing slightly to the pair.

Xan responded but the woman said nothing as the couple moved off towards town. Not wanting to follow them Anna hurried on towards the mill. Anna was surprised Xan had a lover, he'd never mentioned one. Then again he wasn't exactly one to share personal details with the group. She felt embarrassed for walking in on their tryst but her curiosity was piqued.

....

The trees parted and Anna saw the watermill pale in the moonlight. The dark river made a low whispering sound as it splashed over the rocks. A covered bridge just wide enough for a cart stretched across the water, the dark thick within its wooden walls. She stood still thinking how different and eerie the place looked in moonlight. Though Beregost was only a short walk behind her she began to feel isolated and somewhat frightened. She was certain Finn wasn't there but decided to have a quick look around.

Walking around the building her heart jumped as she saw someone sitting by the water's edge. In that light she couldn't see if the figure was the one she sought, so she took a cautious step closer and the figure leaped up.

"Who the hells?" the figure exclaimed.

Anna breathed again and Finn moved his hand away from his sword.

"Finn—I was looking for you."

"Why, what's happened?" he asked, walking up to her.

"Nothing, but Imoen said you weren't in your room, and we were worried," she said.

"Gods, I go for a walk and everyone gets up in arms? Didn't realise I needed permission to leave the inn. I just needed to clear my head a bit. What did you think, I was out setting barns on fire?"

"No, no," Anna said, pulling back a bit from his hostile manner. "I was just worried, alright? There's no need to get angry."

He let out a ragged sigh. "I'm not. But you do worry too much, Anna. Where's Imoen, anyway?"

"She went back to the inn. Long story," she replied, not really wanting to relive the conversations of the evening.

"So you came here alone? That's not a good idea at night."

"Why are you here so late, yourself?" Anna asked. "Coran said you came down here hours ago."

Finn paused, then ran a hand through his hair and laughed.

"Actually—I fell asleep."

Anna laughed. "Not really! Falling asleep in the wilds of Beregost, now who's being unwise?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said a bit sheepishly.

Anna smiled and looked at him. The memory of the other day in the tavern came back to her though and she looked down, thankful that he wouldn't see her flush in the dim light.

"Thanks for coming to look for me, anyway," he said.

"Of course," she murmured.

He stood still, looking at her. Feeling her flush growing deeper she spoke.

"Tell me about last night."

He made an exasperated noise. "Some jackass thought it would be fun to use an illusionary deck—change the cards to whatever he pleased. I was always pretty good at picking up illusions though and could see them flashing back and forth. I called him on it and he has the nerve to laugh in my face. I swear, him and his mate were trying to get a rise out of me all night, so I just…gave in."

"Finn…"

"I know, I know. Stupid. It just took over. Guess I'd had one too many. I wasn't the only one he pissed off though, he was taking everyone's gold. Landlord reckoned he had it coming but he couldn't have troublemakers in his inn, so he asked us to leave. That's all there is to it."

"What happened to the men?"

"Don't know, they slipped out pretty quick. If they were smart they would've found the road—I'm a forgiving sort really but those mercenaries at the table didn't look the part."

Anna sighed. Finn's tale of a boozy card game gone awry made sense but Imoen's frightened words still rang in her ears and she didn't think the girl would be so upset without reason. He looked handsome as a prince in the moonlight, his haggard eyes and rough appearance hidden for the time being. Standing there Anna found it hard to imagine that the night before he was breaking up furniture.

"So," he said, "Do you want me to walk you home, or do you want to stay here awhile? It's a nice night, we could…talk."

"It is a bit late, I think I'd better go," she said, trying to hide a smile. "You don't need to trouble yourself."

"Now, who knows what you might encounter on a dark country lane? Could be mice, hedgehogs, Kivan walking around in the buff, anything."

Anna laughed and took the arm he offered. "I think we're safe—from the latter at least."

"Well, you never can tell with elves," he laughed. "They can be downright shameless."

He leaned in and spoke the last word into her hair, tickling her ear with his breath and sending a little tingle down her neck.

...

Slowly Anna came awake. Rain had moved in during the night and the morning light was dim. Her dream still hung heavy in her mind and she lay still under the covers, recalling the events as she stared at the grey window. She knew the dream. She'd dreamt it before, though not in years. It was a dim recollection from her earliest childhood.

She saw a beautiful butterfly, glistening silver and blue on the grass. She moved to pick it up but it flew away into the forest. She followed it as it danced from tree to tree, moving into shadow then into patches of sunlight where it shone like a jewel, waiting till it was just under her grasp before flitting off again. She laughed on her chase, paying no attention to where her bare feet headed. Eventually she spotted some pink orchids growing and stopped to pick them. When she turned around the butterfly was gone. Frightened, she realised she was lost. Tears in her eyes she wandered though the massive trees for what seemed like forever, still clutching pathetically at her orchids. Eventually she sat down and cried. Looking up she saw the butterfly again dancing nearby. She stood but suddenly felt herself scooped up into mother's arms.

Anna didn't know why she called the woman mother; in her dream she never saw her face, only noticing the braids of golden hair on her neck, the panicked voice of the young woman scolding her, the warm feeling of her hand caressing her head. But she knew she was mother. Despite the obvious Anna always felt disturbed by the dream for reasons she never understood. There was something vaguely sinister about it. But it was only a butterfly, and she was just a silly child lost in the woods. Perhaps it was her mother's death from fever not long afterwards that coloured the memory. Kicking off the covers she wondered why the dream had returned.

...

Tom Wentway collected the potions that morning in a surprising humour. Anna gathered a business deal had gone his way and he let the missing potions slip with a promise from Anna to double up on his next order. Fortunately he would be gone for some time. Not long after he departed Kivan stalked up to the door, demanding again to know when Finn planned on moving out. She could give him no answer and he set off angrily towards Beregost. Watching him striding down the lane she hoped he wouldn't decide to set off on his own—his skills were invaluable and despite his gruff manner she liked and respected the elf.

She went about the house doing little tasks, not able to focus on one thing or another. She wandered into the garden which did well in her absence thanks to an elderly neighbour who at eighty still had more energy than she ever would. She drifted back into the kitchen where Maya was attending the kettle.

"Sit down, miss, you're giving me the shakes. Worse than a grasshopper you are today."

"Sorry, Maya," she said, seating herself at the table. "I'm just wondering when we're going to leave."

"I still can't believe you're heading out with them again. It's foolishness. Let the armies take care of the bandits, that's what they're there for," the woman responded angrily.

_Armies can't solve every problem_, Anna thought as she rolled an apple back and forth between her hands. Though she conceded Maya had a point.

A shadow darkened the door. Anna looked up to see two filthy, ragged men standing on the step. One took off his dirty cap and held it out.

"Alms, my kind ma'am? Alms for a poor pair of good fellows, out of luck in life?"

He looked at Anna with soft, pleading blue eyes. His back hunched and he leaned heavily on a rough walking stick. Since the iron crisis took hold beggars were more frequent at the kitchens and back doors of inns along the coast, many men finding themselves out of work. Turning round from the kettle Maya made a harsh noise in her throat. She'd made it clear time and again that she didn't like strange men begging at the kitchen door. Anna couldn't bear to turn them away though, especially as many of them were more than willing to work for even half a bite to eat. No matter what Maya said Anna didn't think they were all loafers and drunkards.

"Aye, my good man. We have a full kettle here," the mage said.

Ignoring Maya's looks she dipped up two bowls from the pot and placed a thick piece of bread onto each. The man smiled when she held out the food.

"We thank ye, ma'am. 'Tis a kind thing you do. A pity, that."

Anna looked up and the wooden bowls went clattering to the floor, spraying the hot liquid over the kitchen. The second man waved a wand and she felt a spell hit her. She tried to cry out but no sound came. The first man straightened up and lunged at her, no feeble beggar but tall and strong. She recognised him through the dirt—he was one of the halfling's drinking mates from the Juggler. He threw her hard against the table, pulling her hands behind her back. Maya screamed and Anna heard the other man strike her as he wrestled her to her knees. Anna tried to cry out for him to stop but her throat stayed mute from the spell.

The man leaned heavily on Anna and bound her hands, then threw her onto the floor next to the already bound Maya. The housekeeper's face was red as fire and she looked terrified.

"Good thing this magic works twice, eh, Ges?" the second man said nervously. "Way that one howls we'd have the whole neighbourhood here in two ticks."

"_Pft. _Never cared fer pansy magic, though your card trick earned us some coin. Jest cut their tongues out, works for me," the first man laughed. "But you'd have us roasted like a goose before we got our daggers out, me lady, eh?" he said to Anna, giving her a cuff. "Good thing we got friends in high places, like."

"Yeah," the second man twittered.

The first man grabbed Anna's hair and jerked her head hard. "Our boss wants to leave yer friends a little message, so he sent us out calling. We've been sizing you lot up, reckon there's lots to tell." The second man let out that awful nervous giggle again. "Nice of you to split yourselves up like this, too, makes it easier." He drew his dagger and Anna struggled but he held her tight. "Tranzig was a mate. I'm happy to return the favour."

Anna's heart pounded like bursting and she tugged violently at her hair and prayed for the spell to fade. From the corner of her eye she saw a swift blur. The second man yelped then let out a gurgling croak and fell to the floor. The man who held her swore but he too made a terrible noise and Anna felt something hot as the spilled soup spatter onto her face. She looked up to see Kivan dropping his red dagger from the man's throat. The elf released him and he fell hard to the floor.

Maya collapsed onto her side. Anna crawled to her on her knees, oblivious to the blood already soaking her skirts. She called the elderly woman's name but her throat made no sound. Kivan's dagger sliced their bonds and she turned the woman over, stroking her blanched face. He crouched down and placed a hand on Maya's forehead. He spoke a few words and Anna's heart beat again as the woman's eyes fluttered open.

Maya looked blinking at the elf, then at Anna, then at the dead man lying in a pool of blood near her side. Her mouth opened and she let out a wailing shriek.

"_You—you—get out!_" she screamed at the elf. "It's all your fault! You brought this here, you're trying to get her killed! Get out, you rotten bastard!"

Kivan rocked back on his heels, surprised at the woman's mad outburst.

"Maya, Maya, he saved our lives," Anna croaked, finding her voice again. She caressed the housekeeper with shaking hands.

"No—he's done it. Him and all that lot. No one tried to kill us before they came! Get out, I say!"

Maya's face went red and Anna worried she'd have another fit. She kept stroking her, trying in vain to calm her down. She looked wildly up at Kivan. He wiped the blood from his dagger but remained mute to Maya's outburst.

"Help me get her to the sitting room," Anna gasped. She steadied herself as the heavy woman leaned on her but Maya threw off Kivan's hands.

"Not there—there'll be blood on everything, and I'm not cleaning it up," the woman said, her voice shaking.

...

Anna instead helped her into the garden where they both sat hard onto the damp grass. Anna drew deep breaths and looked up at the flat grey sky.

"Calm yourself, _mellonamin_," Kivan said.

Anna realised she was hyperventilating. Next to her Maya started to cry.

"Sophie—where's Sophie? She was supposed to come here…they didn't hurt my Sophie, did they?" she said weakly.

Anna looked up in a panic.

"I saw the girl on my way back from the town, heading towards some farm. I doubt their paths would have crossed," Kivan said.

Maya made a little sound like steam escaping from a teakettle and Anna put her arms around her again.

"They were with the bandits, Kivan," Anna managed to say. "He said they'd been watching us. Are there more around?"

Kivan's scowl grew deeper. "I have seen strange men about, though none approached the house. We should leave here tonight and head into the wilderness. They will know their plan failed and will surely strike again."

"Yes," Anna said, her mouth like paper. "But we need to call the guards—and I need to…"

She trailed off, a feeling like ice in her stomach. There were bodies in her kitchen. Blood-soaked bodies of men who but for a few seconds and a swift elf would have killed Maya and herself. She grasped at the shivering woman next to her and the thought repeated again and again in her mind.

...

_"Look! Get away from us, human."  
"Don't worry."_


	28. Questions

Pale crimson clouds billowed around the rag that Anna swirled impatiently in the bucket. Giving it a squeeze she again applied the rough cloth to the kitchen floor. Despite numerous water changes she couldn't manage to get all the blood off the stones, her efforts just smearing it around and staining the porous mortar between the stone edges. In frustration she rubbed harder.

Her eyes on the stain she saw boots slowly step into the kitchen. She didn't need to look up to know it was Finn. He stood in silence, watching her scrubbing intensely. Finally he spoke.

"It looks pretty clean."

"There's blood in the cracks, I can't get it out. If it dries it'll be permanent," Anna replied shortly, not stopping her work.

He stood quiet again. The scrubbing of the rag blended with the sound of steady rain on the kitchen roof, muffled by the bolted door and fastened windows that would normally be open to the summer air.

Finn knelt and gently took her hands. They shook slightly from nerves and activity but she didn't resist as he pulled the rag lightly from their grasp and placed it in the bucket. She leaned back, feeling the bruising on her knees from the hard stone. She looked at the wet floor under her skirts and said nothing.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," he said. "The guards said we could leave. We shouldn't stay longer than we have to."

"This is my home," she replied, her voice shaking like her hands. "They came here. They were watching me! What if I can't come back?"

"You'll come back," he said. "We'll get them."

"How can we?" She looked up at him. "Honestly, tell me. They've done all this—all this killing, the iron crisis—we don't know where they are…we don't even know _why_ they're doing this."

He smiled a little.

"I know."

"It's impossible, Finn. It's stupid. What did we really expect to do? We can't fight an army of bandits. The Flaming Fist can't even find them, and we're just supposed to what—wander around aimlessly in the wilderness, hoping against hope that we stumble across them so they can put arrows in our backs?"

She ran her wet hands through her hair, oblivious for the moment to the blood that mingled with the soapy water. Finn stayed crouched beside her. Anna felt like screaming but wrapped her hands in her skirts and bit her lip instead. She pulled the fabric tighter and tighter, almost hoping it would rip. Finn said nothing, regarding her silently.

Finally Anna drew a shallow breath.

"This is how you feel, isn't it?"

She turned to him and saw his eyes.

"It is," he said quietly.

"Finn, I'm sorry," she choked. "I didn't mean to—"

He put an arm around her and she gladly pressed her face onto his shoulder.

"This is all I can do," he said after a moment. "There isn't anything else. I don't know how we can win either, or what winning even means here. But there's nowhere for me to go. I'm sorry you got caught up in this. Maybe I should just take Imoen and run somewhere, but I don't know where to go. We can't go home. I have to try, Anna—because there's nothing else I can do."

Anna looked down at the pink-stained floor.

"Come on," he said quietly. "This is just stone. It doesn't matter."

He helped her to her feet and she looked around the kitchen, still spying a drop of spattered blood here and there. Anna shivered from somewhere deep within her stomach but tried to give him a small smile before hurrying off to pack.

...

An hour later she looked back at the cottage, partially hidden by the grove of trees. Its windows were shuttered and it looked strange and asleep. Glancing down the hill she saw the mist-covered fields of the farm where Maya's daughter and family lived, where the good woman now lay recovering from the shock of the attack. Anna had no time to say goodbye. She pulled her hood further down over her eyes against the rain and hurried along after the group.

They kept to the woodlands and fields, avoiding the roads and before long heavy wilderness surrounded them once again. The rain persisted and they spoke little, their faces tight. Even Coran seemed reserved, walking silently as only an elf can through the trees. Anna wondered if the reality of their quest was in his mind when he thought of grand adventures. But if he had second thoughts about accompanying them he kept it to himself.

The group headed towards the fortress inn of the Friendly Arm, nearly a tenday's march north of Beregost. Based on their only intelligence another bandit camp lay somewhere in that region. It was vague information and they had no way of knowing if the bandits even remained in the area, but they hoped some rumour at the Friendly Arm might provide them with another clue. Other than waiting for the mercenaries to attack again there was little else they could do.

That night they made a soggy camp. The dense trees overhead dripped heavy drops that their leaves collected like funnels, striking almost like shot when they hit Anna's head. She paid little notice though as she took refuge under the oily-smelling tent. With such a large group they needed two shelters and it was a comfort at least to change clothes without first checking to see if any of the male party members were looking. It was a small problem next to all the others but another one she hadn't really considered before setting out on the road.

Imoen glanced up from her blanket when Anna entered then dropped her eyes back to the book she studied. Despite the forced flight Anna wanted to keep her promise to teach the girl magic—if nothing else it might keep both their minds off their troubles for awhile.

Safana likewise reclined, examining what looked like a small leather journal. The thief hadn't been pleased with their sudden departure and from snippets of overheard conversation Anna gathered she'd been trying in vain to convince Finn to head south, for reasons unknown to the mage. His response she knew from their northward trek.

Branwen bent her head over a pair of hose with the heel of one foot stretched over a wooden darning egg. With capable hands she swiftly made a new weave in the woollen fabric. Her dexterity with a needle was remarkable, Anna noticed, and unlikely as it seemed she imagined the possibility that the warrior maiden was once a seamstress of some sort. The occupation certainly was more in line with what she knew of Northlander culture than a priestess of Tempus.

...

Anna barely had time to pull her spellbook from her pack when Jaheira crawled through the narrow canvas flap.

"You have drawn first watch," she said to the mage. Noticing Anna's open book she frowned. "Have you not memorised your spells?"

"I'm fine," Anna said, drawing a little breath. She'd just taken shelter from the rain and didn't fancy another two hours sitting in the deluge.

"Good. We should extinguish the lantern as soon as you have readied yourselves for the night," she said to the others.

Safana groaned. "If there were a sun tonight it surely would have just set. Isn't it bad enough that we must go without fire on this damp eve, now we must keep the bedtime of children? I am not finished reading."

"I am sorry if it inconveniences you," Jaheira said coolly. "Perhaps we should keep a fire to attract the bandits which are no doubt on our trail even as we speak. As for the early night, I'll wager you'll appreciate it more when you see to your watch. Yours is the last, and we march at dawn."

Safana didn't reply but slapped her book shut and tugged off her jerkin. Anna donned her cloak once more and went out into the rainy evening. Thankfully she took the time to bathe it in a solution of lead salts after the group returned to Beregost; it now kept off the rain but the brown wool was still smothery in the warm, damp night.

The grey light was fading fast from the trees and she saw little of form outside the warm lantern-glow that issued from within the tents. The other tent's flap parted and Khalid crawled out. They'd taken to keeping two sentinels now their numbers permitted it.

"Ready?" Khalid said shortly, standing up and pulling his grey hood over his head.

She nodded in response and they wandered up out of the hollow, Anna following slightly behind the half-elf whose eyes penetrated the grey mist much better than hers. Khalid wasn't the boldest of warriors but tonight Anna thought he walked almost aggressively through the trees as if he expected an opponent to materialise at any moment.

They circled the camp and Khalid directed Anna to take a spot near a boulder. She curled up against the stone and let out a little sigh as she watched him fade into the mist, making his way to his own lookout.

Anna sat dutifully in the dripping darkness, her ears listening to hear footfalls over the sound of the pattering rain. She generally disliked keeping watch, not so much because of the loss of sleep but rather the lonely feeling that came from being separated from the others by even a short distance in the dark wilderness. She could never shake the feeling that, somehow, she would return one night and find them gone. It was a childish fear and she kept it to herself but with the shock of the past day and the utter blackness of the rainy night she found it building within. She'd never been afraid of the dark. Why now? She wished she could find Khalid but it seemed a hopeless task with no light to guide her and she stayed where she was.

...

Eventually the half-elf returned, Anna only knowing him by his quiet whistle in the dark.

"See anything?" he said low, sitting down beside her.

Anna wondered if he was being ironic but responded in the negative.

"A f-few minutes more," Khalid said.

Anna nodded into the darkness and they sat in silence. She knew she shouldn't talk on watch but the night wore on her nerves and she wanted to hear a voice. Building up some courage she asked a question that had been on her mind for some time.

"Khalid," she began. "Tell me, how did Jaheira and you end up with Finn? I know it's because of your…connections, but…"

She trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish at the question. Khalid started a little and responded in a tone she expected.

"Why d-do you ask now? Does it matter?"

Too late as well Jaheira's face as she looked at Finn in the tavern came back to Anna and she felt a queer heat rise to her face. Khalid noticed that, too, and he was probably the last person the half-elf wanted to speak of. Flustered though Anna continued.

"I'm sorry, I just wondered. It's not important."

Khalid let out a sharp little sigh.

"His foster f-father was a friend. Jaheira and I—we j-joined the Harpers at about the same t-time. We m-met Gorion then. He…introduced us, in fact. Nearly twenty years ago," he laughed a little, as if surprised by the passing of time. "Gorion was a mentor, he taught us b-both a great deal. We were on the c-coast here investigating the crisis when we were told to w-wait at the Friendly Arm for Gorion and his ward. We did. But only F-finn and Imoen arrived. We were told to protect him, n-no matter what. To watch over him. So we did."

Khalid drew another breath. Anna didn't ask who gave the couple their directives, but she wondered. Even if Finn was Gorion's foster child their orders seemed strange. 'Protect Finn'—from what? The bandits? She'd already worn out her thoughts on numerous occasions pondering the bounty on his head. He wasn't a Harper or anyone to warrant such a thing. Now though it came creeping back to her mind. With a bit of humour she thought perhaps he was the son and heir of some king or other, living a secret life in Candlekeep, waiting to claim his throne. _The Lady of Brackenfell Hall_ clearly made more of an impression on her than she'd like to admit, she thought ruefully as Khalid rose and she followed him carefully back to the tents.

...

Thankfully the rain departed the same way it arrived and Anna woke to a fresh morning and a broken sky. They ate quickly and wasted little time in setting back off towards the north. The rolling hills grew higher and steeper, their sides thick with trees and for awhile they followed a shallow, rocky stream that splashed swiftly through a narrow valley. The road and the only trace of civilisation was now miles to the west, curving sharply to avoid the same hills the party rambled through.

Anna's face stayed grim and she idly regarded the water that was tinted light amber from the minerals in the hills as it flowed merrily by, now and then a silvery fish slipping through the rocks. She looked up when she saw a cloak flutter next to her.

"Lady Anna," Coran said, a smile decorating his face.

_"Hm?"_ she replied indifferently.

"I dreamt of you last night."

"Indeed."

"I rolled out of bed twice!"

Anna face screwed up but seeing his dancing eyes she couldn't help but laugh. He gave her a mischievous grin and moved on, his work apparently done.

...

Noon came and they took a rest amongst the trees. While they ate Imoen approached Anna.

"I think I've got it. Do you want to see me cast it? I'm ready!"

"Yes, I was thinking that an explosion is just the thing we need right now," Xan said dryly.

"What explosion? It's just a defensive spell. And I have casted spells before, you know."

Anna opened her mouth but Xan cut in again.

"Even so, magic in the hands of a novice can have unpredictable effects. Surely it would be better to wait until our situation is slightly less precarious before continuing?"

He directed the question at Anna and she sat looking between the serious elf and Imoen's eager face. She looked over at Finn who gave her a little shrug.

Anna let out a puff. "I suppose it will be alright. Come, let's go over here."

She led the girl a short distance from the camp, ignoring Xan's eyes and hoping with all her might that Imoen didn't prove her wrong.

"Okay, then," Anna said with an encouraging smile. "Let's see what you've got."

Imoen stood straight and collected a breath. She raised a hand in the air, then promptly started laughing.

"I've got it," Imoen said in response to Anna's look.

She took another moment to collect herself, then again raised a hand. She closed her eyes and began chanting under her breath, moving her hand around in a circular motion. Anna watched with baited breath as the girl's palm began to glow blue. The light stayed in the air and she motioned outwards into a greater circle until a round shield of energy had formed in front of her. Cautiously she opened an eye and let out a little squeal of delight.

"It's there! It works! I did it!"

She clapped her hands and did a little dance, the shield hanging in the air, moving when she moved.

"Well done!" Anna exclaimed, smiling. "Here, let's test it."

She picked up a small stone and tossed it at the shield. It bounced lightly off the barrier, the gentle force not enough to penetrate the spell.

"Great! Now try a magic missile," Imoen said, eager.

Anna laughed. "I think we'll leave that for another day."

"Oh, but why? This spell stops them, and I really want to try—"

She gestured and the spell fizzled away with a crackle of energy.

"Oops."

"That happens. You need to keep your mind clear and stay focused on the Weave," Anna said.

"Right. But how do you do that when you're fighting? There's a million things going through my head at a normal time, never mind a battle."

"It's just something you'll need to learn. You need to keep part of yourself devoted to the spell. Don't worry, it gets easier with practice."

...

"As do all things. It was a fair try, Imoen."

Anna turned to see Kivan walking up, appearing as usual from nowhere.

"You saw it?" Imoen said, catching a breath. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"I know little of the spell's temperature," he replied.

Anna forced down a laugh. "Have you seen anything?"

"No signs of pursuit. If the bandits follow us then they keep their distance."

"That's good. We'll try to keep the noise down anyway," she said, having a feeling the elf appeared for a reason.

"Yeah, sorry," Imoen said. "But I cast a spell! That's so great! Thanks so much, Anna."

"Of course," the mage said.

"I want to learn everything again. I missed all those books, scrubbing at the inn. Hey Kivan, maybe you can teach me some elvish?" she said with a laugh. "They say you need an elf to get the accents right."

"Perhaps, _mellonamin_," he responded with a little smile at the girl's enthusiasm.

"Of course, I did study Quenya before, but I can't remember much," Imoen continued as the three headed back to the others. "I think I can remember some poems. And the alphabet. Maybe I could copy it out later, and you could have a look?"

"I think you should ask Xan if you wish to learn the letters of my people," he answered.

"Oh…well, I suppose it would take too much of your time, and you're always busy, tinkering with your arrows and whatnot," Imoen said, looking a bit dejected.

"It is not that, little one. You probably know more of the letters than I."

"You don't know Quenya?" she asked, confused.

Kivan smiled in his rather grim way. "Elvish I do know, along with your tongue and the tongues of many others. But of the markings I know little."

"You can't read?" Imoen exclaimed.

"No, _mellonamin_."

"But—all elves can read!"

"And you have met all elves to come to that conclusion?"

"Well—"

Kivan sighed. "My people—my tribe that is, the _Calen'Quessir_, have little use for the scratchings on paper that others are fond of."

"But—how do you remember stuff?" Imoen asked, still flummoxed.

"How? With our words. Our words are living things. They live on the breath of the speaker and in the ear of the listener. They flow in our memory like a river. Parents, elders—they tell their tales and they live and change and grow. We prefer this to the dead, fixed words that are etched onto parchment, to be one thing forevermore."

"But how do you cast spells, if you don't read?"

"We have few arcane spellcasters, that is true. We rely mostly on priests. The few wizards we have often come from outside the tribe, those who have come to live with us in our forest."

As he spoke his eyes took on a strange look, almost as if he saw someone or something appear before him. Anna wondered but caught up Imoen's sleeve and tried to rein in the girl's stream of questions about an elvish culture she knew little about. Something about Kivan's face told her he'd had his fill of questions that day.

...

The party spent several days travelling through the hills. Except for a few minor encounters with the wild beasts of the forest they met with no battles. Anna hardly dared to hope they'd managed to escape Beregost without alerting the bandits but couldn't explain their absence any other way. They certainly wouldn't wish for a more remote location to ambush the party, if that was their plan.

On the fifth day they began again to see signs of human occupation, dingy and drear that it was. They passed through the settlement of Peldvale, a small area of what was often referred to as 'dirt farmers' by idle tongues along the coast. The soil was poor and its proximity to the wild hills made the valley a less than desirable location, but that didn't stop the determined folk who sweated out a living there. In reality though most that farmed that place likely couldn't afford to live anywhere else.

They stayed out of sight but decided to chance purchasing some fresh food at a wayside farm. Anna and Branwen were elected to do the bartering as the party members least likely to draw attention in that place. Stripping off armour and weaponry and counting on their spells for aid if any trouble should arise the two women approached the ramshackle house. A tight-faced farmer's wife appeared at Anna's knock.

"Who be ye?" she said suspiciously.

"Just travellers, missus, here to barter for milk and eggs," Anna said.

"We don't need no damn gypsies round 'ere. Be off, afore I set the dog on ye."

"We've fair coin, missus. It's for our little ones, they've not 'a proper bite in their stomachs for days," Anna pleaded, hoping to appeal to some maternal instinct in the woman. The reaction wasn't what she expected.

"Ye've wee ones? Take 'em and be off," she said hoarsely, eyes growing wide.

"Missus?"

"Be off I say! Don't come round again."

The woman retreated inside, slamming the rough door shut in their faces. Anna and Branwen looked at each other but turned away in silence. As they walked towards the forest Branwen paused and looked back at the farm.

"What is it?" Anna asked.

"Ye live amongst farmers. See with your own eyes."

Anna looked. She saw a man in a field, back bent in weeding. The woman she saw exit the house, dragging behind her a heavy tub of wash that she proceeded to hang on a line. The mage examined the scene, realising something seemed out of place but the answer eluding her eyes. Finally it came.

"Where are the children?"

"Aye, where? None I heard in the house, none in the field. And that woman seemed near to fainting with fear when ye mentioned little ones."

"What does that mean?" Anna asked.

"Tempus knows. But it seems an ill omen, does it not? Come, let us return to our comrades."

Anna glanced once more at the empty farm before turning and following the cleric into the woods.


	29. Answers

Anna and Branwen found the party where they left them, resting amongst shady trees not far from the lane. Jaheira and Khalid sat some ways from the others and Kivan was nowhere in sight. Finn sat up when the women pushed through the bracken.

"No joy?" he asked, spying their empty sacks.

"No," Anna said, sitting on the ground. "The farmwife wasn't exactly welcoming."

"Well, people are suspicious of strangers anymore. Not a big deal," Finn said, stretching himself back onto the forest floor.

"There was more at work there than simple suspicion," Branwen said. "That woman was frightened."

"Frightened of you?"

"Nay, I should say not. Though it was difficult to tell."

"There seemed to be no children at the place, and when I mentioned them the woman acted strangely," Anna said.

"Maybe the kids were off somewhere," Imoen offered.

"Maybe," Finn responded. "It's probably nothing, anyway. Life we lead you start seeing enemies behind every bush, it's easy to get paranoid."

_"Mm,"_ Anna said. She was thinking of the false beggars at her door.

"Regardless, we have danger enough at our heels without deliberately seeking more. I'm glad to see some moderation—it's a quality often lacking in groups such as this," Xan said.

"I've pleased you? A rare feat with the one wielding the elvish sword of great antiquity," Finn laughed. "I'll have to mark the date."

Coran smirked and spoke to Xan.

"_Hallaer, ro naa haran e'nausaho_."

Xan raised an eyebrow and looked slightly at Finn, who showed no reaction.

"_Haran en dagora, haran en edainmer. Ron lantuva imya maur'eaho ve' amin lanta e'a urnurath."_ Coran paused and continued with a low smile. "_Ar' man rath nauva yeste'?_"

"_Faarea!" _

Xan spoke quietly but there was something in his tone that silenced the other elf. Coran leaned back and pursed his lips, looking irritated but said no more. Anna glanced at Xan but he didn't meet her eyes. She looked at Finn. He was still staring at the treetops but Anna thought his jaw had an odd set.

"Well, I need to gather some components now that the dew has passed. I won't be long," Anna rose and spoke to no one in particular.

"I'll go with you," Finn said suddenly. "You shouldn't be out wandering the forest alone."

He jumped up before Anna could speak and she saw him give Imoen's head a quick squeeze with his hand, curtailing a comment from the girl's mouth.

...

Finn said nothing as he followed her down a slope through the green woods. Anna looked back at him once with a friendly little smile, wondering what exactly was in his mind when he offered to walk with her. She was pleased but hoped he wasn't thinking of anything too particular.

They found a place where the trees grew thinner and the forest floor was carpeted by patches of small purple flowers. Anna bent to her work, carefully slicing their thin stems with her knife and placing them in a cloth sack to dry later.

"It's a nice day," Finn said.

Anna straightened and looked at him, leaning against a tree and examining the blue sky above the leaves.

"It is," she replied, bending back to her work.

"So, how are you doing?" he said.

"Pardon?"

"How are you holding up? From the other day, I mean."

"Oh," Anna said, rising again. "I'm fine." She spoke the last words with a slightly higher pitch than she'd like.

"Yeah, I just wanted to ask. Return the favour, as you're always asking me."

He laughed a little and Anna smiled.

"I'll be all right. It's Maya I'm worried about. She's hard as stone on the outside but I don't know what something like that will do to her. I wish I could see her."

"I feel like it's my fault. I didn't think about them trying to hit us in town like that. You'd think I'd know better with the experiences we've had. I'm sorry, anyway."

His face was serious and Anna went over to him.

"You aren't to blame, I think everyone was too complacent. Besides, you have a lot on your mind."

"Yeah. But it means I'm the centre of attention at least," he joked.

Anna grinned back at him but drew a breath. Imoen's words about his temper never sat well in her mind. Outside Beregost Finn seemed to gather himself again; his jokes came easy and the heavy strain that seemed to wear on him for the past tenday or more lightened but she was ever aware of that almost haunted look in his eyes. She'd been torn over whether to share what Imoen told her but now impulse took hold and she spoke.

"Finn...I know this is a bit out of the blue, but...would you tell me what happened at Candlekeep?"

"What do you mean?"

Anna flushed. "Imoen told me about something that happened there. It seemed to tie in with the other problems you've had lately and I just...wanted to know what happened."

Finn scowled and Anna cringed. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

"I guess I know what she was talking about, and it doesn't have anything to do with my problems. Bastards with swords are my problem, that's all."

"I know. But she said you were in a fight there, and after that fight in town..."

"I'm a bloke, Anna. That's how we express disagreement. We don't sit down and have a nice cup of tea and talk about our feelings."

Anna gave him a look.

"All right, all right. I'm joking. But I don't suppose she bothered to tell you why I flew off the handle, did she?"

"No," Anna said.

Finn scowled again. "I walked into the stables one day and saw Imoen with one of the guards. He had her pressed up against some grain sacks, his hands all the way up her dress. And the look on her face didn't make me think she was enjoying it much."

"Gods," Anna started. "She didn't tell me that."

"She still thinks she did something wrong. He fancied her, and you know how Imoen is. She likes to talk but she's just a sweet little girl, trusts anyone. He was a new guard down from the north somewhere, thought he was something flash. I got there just in time and when I saw him I just...went black."

"Went black?" Anna asked. His face had a strange look.

"I don't remember what happened after that," he said slowly. "I remember a bunch of guards piled on me, trying to hold me down. They dragged me to the cells and it took me awhile before I could see straight again. My hands were all cut and bruised but I don't remember hitting him. Imoen told the captain what he was trying to do, that's all that kept me from a flogging and being kicked out of the Watchers. Not that I would have cared. Bastard deserved it. She's my sister, and she's just a kid."

Finn gave a bit of moss a kick. Anna tried to think of something to say but he continued.

"The worst part came later. Gorion came to see me and gave me this whole lecture about the importance of being moderate of temper and action." He let out a short laugh. "I couldn't believe it. Maybe I had been making a bit of an ass of myself at home, but I just stopped that bastard from hurting Imoen and somehow _I'm_ the one with the problem. I don't know why I blacked out, but I'll be damned if I'll regret what I did."

"I'm sure he was just upset by your…strong reaction," Anna said.

"It was strange. It's like he cared more about what I did than what happened to her. I know he cared about Imoen, but still…it didn't make sense to me. It just reminded me how small the keep walls were getting."

Anna gave him a small smile of sympathy but said nothing.

"Then of course, he gets killed. Another couple of months and I wouldn't even have been at Candlekeep and he'd still be alive."

She opened her mouth to speak but he put his hands on her shoulders.

"So now you know. Don't worry about it, okay? I was just blowing off steam in Beregost. Trust me, I'm well aware of my problems. You don't need to keep bringing it up. Just...smile, alright? Everyone here always looks like we're walking to the gallows. Maybe we are, but in the meantime..."

He gave her a grin and Anna smiled back. She began to feel a little too aware of his hands though and turned, making her way back to the others.

...

Kivan had returned from his patrol and the party continued on their way, skirting the small farms and staying in the woodlands as much as possible. The farms were all alike; bits of broken carts and other gear littered the weedy grass around the rough cottages and the stone fences stood in a state of disrepair, their rocks scattered like remants of some ancient civilisation. The few horses they saw were raggedly thin and the animals stood blankly in their small muddy yards. Looking at the farms Anna began to realise just how well off the people of Beregost were by comparison. She mentioned her thoughts to Xan, who'd been regarding the settlement with his usual neutral eye.

"It is unfortunate. I have never been able to understand how such poverty exists, especially outside the cities. Surely the land here is not so harsh that these people must live in this state. Perhaps they prefer doing battle with nature rather than working with it and accepting what gifts she offers," he said.

"You sound like Jaheira," Anna said with a smile.

"The ethos of the druid is similar to the elven," he replied.

"It's hard to say," Anna continued. "The landlords may be greedy, taking what little they have to line their pockets. But poor soil is most likely to blame, it is thin and rocky here."

She gave a bit of slate a tap with her boot as she walked by.

"Then they should not be so stubborn with their tilling. What is the expression, one cannot get blood from a stone? They should adapt or move on."

"A fair point," she said.

Anna gave Xan a sideways glance and tried to swallow a smile.

"By the way, I'm sorry for interrupting you and your…companion the other night."

Xan sighed. "I was wondering when you'd bring that up. I must say you've shown remarkable restraint."

"Well, it wasn't really any of my business. Though I was surprised," Anna said.

"Yes, surprised," he frowned.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said, laughing a little. "It's just that you never mentioned a lover, and I certainly wasn't expecting to come across you together on a back lane in Beregost."

"I was hardly expecting you there, either. Humans do have a habit of popping up in unlikely places."

Anna grinned. "So—tell me about her. Does she live in Evereska as well?"

"I take it that is the end of respecting my privacy?"

"All things have an end!"

Xan grumbled something but continued.

"She isn't my lover. Rather someone I needed to…speak with."

"Oh," Anna hesitated. "So she is a—"

"Contact," he said. "Pleasant as our little excursions are I am on a mission here, you will remember."

Anna nodded. For some reason Xan's being a Greycloak never registered fully in her mind and she rarely considered it. It wasn't something he brought up in conversation. She'd seen him sitting off by himself in the evenings, silently writing notes in his book with one of those brush-like pens the elves preferred to quills, but she hadn't given much thought to what he was writing. Now though she found the idea that their activities were being reported to far-off, unknown elves somewhat unsettling.

"Still, as Imoen hasn't teased me into the treetops I assume you kept it to yourself. I appreciate your discretion," he continued.

"Of course. You may think magic is dangerous in her hands, but it's nothing compared to her powers of gossip!"

She forced out the little joke, not without a little guilt from her conversation with Finn. Xan smiled a little, but she said nothing else though while she considered the presence of an elven agent in the group.

...

Looking upon the farms on the wayside Anna's thoughts turned again to that morning's encounter with the woman. At that season farmers and their families would normally be hard at work in the fields but no children were to be seen anywhere. Anna fancied that the place had a strangely quiet, frightened feel that couldn't be explained by poverty. Branwen seemed to feel the same and spoke to Finn.

"My heart tells me something foul has befallen this settlement. We would do well to investigate," she said.

"What do you want us to do, knock on a door and ask where the kids are?" Finn said. "We'd be chased off with pitchforks. Besides, we don't want to draw attention to ourselves—whatever problems these people might have they'd be worse if the bandits ever figured out we were hanging around."

"True, but by Tempus' shield we have a duty to at least see if our aid would be welcome. Especially if children may be in danger."

"We're not the local militia. There must be someone else who can help, assuming they need help in the first place. Who knows, maybe there's been a plague," Finn said grimly.

If Finn thought the last remark would lessen the Northlander's determination he was wrong, the mention of illness merely increasing the healer's will to investigate.

"This tears at me," Jaheira spoke up. "Finn is correct that we should maintain a low profile, but I find myself agreeing with Branwen. It is clear just from observing that something is wrong here. Whether or not we can help is another question, but I feel we should at least try."

A small smile appeared on Branwen's face and Anna wondered how much it must have pricked the druid to side with her.

"I think you are c-correct, my love," Khalid said. "But how sh-should we go about this?"

"Please don't tell me you want to stop at the next turnip patch and have me interrogate the occupants," Xan said dryly.

"Grand idea, mate. Thanks for volunteering," Finn laughed and clapped the elf on the shoulder, making him stumble slightly.

"It's not such a bad idea," Anna began.

"That wasn't a serious suggestion," Xan said. "I would never—"

"No, no. But Branwen and I talked to people before. Maybe we could get more information this time, or at least see if there really is a problem."

"It is a waste of time, surely," Safana grumbled. "You are all over-reacting. We should keep moving towards the inn—the sooner we reach some kind of civilisation, the better."

"I don't know, the farmers' daughters might conceal some interesting clues," Coran grinned.

"Farmers' daughters? I did not realise you preferred your women without teeth," the thief replied with a little smirk.

"It's not entirely without advantages," he said.

Safana's mouth snapped shut and Coran's eyes twinkled in a way that puzzled Anna.

"Regardless, it seems like the best plan," Jaheira said, directing a rather pointed look at Coran. "If you two are willing then let us be on with the business."

...

Anna and the cleric once again removed the outward signs of their occupations and approached another farmhouse. She spied a man working in a small barn and decided to try their luck with him.

"A fine afternoon to you, my good man," Anna called, a friendly smile on her face.

The man looked up from the cart he was mending.

"Well, a good day to you, lass," he said slowly. "Not many strangers we see in this district."

He had a little smile on his face and something in his manner told Anna he was of the sharper variety of farmer.

"My cousin and me were hoping you might be up to bartering for something to eat. A long ways we've travelled with only squirrel to fill our cookpots."

"Aye? Best t' ask woman then. She'd have me if she found I traded away 'er geese under her nose."

"We don't always have fortune with farmer's wives," Anna replied with a giggle.

"I shouldn't think ye'd earn much sympathy at that," he said, smiling. "Where are your menfolk? Roads aren't safe for women alone, nor for men either these days."

"Oh, they're off tending the wagons. Travellers find little kindness now, either."

"Nay, some nicked the very bolts and hinges on me barn doors. Took quite a bit of our hard-earned coin t' replace 'em and what happens but the new ones rust right away. I've got wood and leather hinges on now—not so sturdy but a damn sight less trouble."

Anna laughed and assured the farmer they had no designs on his iron. She bantered with him for a few minutes, hoping to steer the conversation towards children but the farmer kept her speaking of news from the road until she heard an angry voice behind her.

"Jabez? Who's that with ye?"

A woman whom Anna assumed must be Mrs Jabez approached with swift steps. She slowed and her demeanour became more reserved as she ran her eyes over the women.

"No cause for worry, Martha. These are just some travelling folk wanting to barter," the man said calmly.

"Well, I don't like the looks of 'em. Send 'em on. We've got nothing to spare, anyway."

"There's cheese. I'm sure you can find sommat in the cellar. Sooner they get what they want, sooner they'll be on their way," he replied firmly.

The woman's face turned hard but she told the women to follow her to the house. She bade them wait on the step and returned a few minutes later, her arms filled with a random assortment of foodstuffs.

"Here, take it and go," Martha said shortly, without even mentioning a price.

Surprised Anna held out a small bag of coins. The woman looked at it blankly for a moment before snatching it from the mage's hand and making to shut the door. Before she could go Branwen spoke.

"Where are your children, my woman?"

Martha started. "Inside. Sleeping. Now go."

"Please," Anna began. "We can see there's trouble here. We're not just travellers, we are people that can help. Won't you tell us what's wrong?"

"Don't see how it's your business. If you want to help then you'll get out of here quick as you can."

"Ye have nothing to fear from us, woman," Branwen said.

"Fear? What do ye know about _fear?_" The woman said, her agitation growing. "Get off, now!"

"Has someone done something to the children here?" Anna asked again.

"Why do you need to be so damn nosy?" Martha shouted. "Get away. You don't know anything about what's happened here."

"If ye tell us, then we will," Branwen said, calm in the face of the angry woman.

Martha's eyes looked wild and her mouth hung open.

"It was—it was the _Drow_."

Anna and Branwen stared at her.

"The Drow?" Anna repeated.

"Aye. Aye. Now you see? Be off, unless you want to scrapple with them dark demons."

"Martha, what have ye told them?"

At that moment Jabez walked around the corner of the house, a look of surprise on his face.

"I told 'em the truth. It was the Drow. They took our babies."

Tears came into the woman's eyes and she buried her face in her apron. Jabez' face slowly grew calm again.

"So it is. A bit more trouble than two women are likely to handle, eh? Best to leave this place before dark."

"I don't understand," Anna said, confused and shocked by the woman's revelation. "Why would the Drow take the children? Have you reported this to no one?"

Martha's red eyes peeked out from behind her apron then disappeared again. Jabez continued.

"They haven't taken 'em all—we keep the others out of sight. They took a boy and girl of ours. We never told—they said they'd bring the kids back if we kept mum." Jabez' voice shook but he steadied it. "It's food they want, you see. They burst through the door one night, grabbed the kids. They said they'd kill 'em if we did anything! They live up in the hills and come down in the night to collect the goods. We don't know where they are. What are we supposed to do?"

"By Tempus! You should act. Do you expect the dark ones to keep their word? Ye were fortunate they did not slaughter this entire settlement. We must tell the others," Branwen said to Anna.

"Others?" Jabez asked.

"We're part of a group of adventurers," Anna told him.

His mouth opened and he swore.

"Dammit, Martha! You never could keep yer mouth shut. I'll tell you again, we don't need any help! Just get out of here, before they slit our all our kids' throats!"

Anna and Branwen tried to argue but the farmer virtually forced them off his place and the women hurried back to the party with the news.

...

"_Drow?_" Kivan said.

His deep voice often had the resonance of a growl but there was little mistaking one in his tone as he uttered the word.

"That's—different," Finn said thoughtfully. "I haven't heard of any Drow attacking the coast in ages. As if people didn't have enough to worry about anymore. Do you think they're trying to take advantage of the situation here?"

"It would be typical of their nature, o_htar,"_ Kivan responded, his eyes strangely bright. "But it matters not. If the dark-hearted ones are here then we must destroy them."

"_Er_, yeah," Finn said. "At the risk of sounding like a delicate flower, maybe we should take a step back. We don't know how many Drow we're talking about, could be anything from a patrol to an entire city under our feet. We need more information before throwing ourselves in here."

"I would not have thought you afraid of battle," the elf said through a clenched jaw.

"I'm not," he grumbled defensively. "But that doesn't mean I'm ready to toss myself off a cliff, either. Think sense. We've already got our hands full with a bandit army, I'm not keen to add Drow to the list unless we've got a chance of winning."

"Finn is right, _mellonamin_," Xan said. "Your faith compels you but we must exercise caution here."

"But what about the kids?" Imoen exclaimed. "We can't leave them to the Drow. They use slaves, don't they? We need to do something!"

"The children are dead. The Drow would never return them. I know their ways, and they have no use for such weak slaves as anything other than meat for the foul _lianter_ they worship. We must kill them before they have the chance to take other innocent lives!" Kivan said.

Imoen shuddered and said nothing, looking up at Finn with wide eyes. He let out a breath and looked at Jaheira.

"I have little counsel to give," the druid said. "I agree with Kivan, the children are most likely dead. But if there is even a chance they are still alive we must help. Although you are correct, Finn, that we cannot charge headfirst into battle here. We have no way of knowing how many Drow may be in these hills, and they are deadly opponents."

"We can scout the land, my lady," Coran said, his face unusually grim. "My kin in Tethir often clash with _Tel'gothrim _and I am familiar with their signs."

"As am I. I do not know how I missed the signs before but now that I know they are here, by Shevarash I will find them!" Kivan declared.

"Right. Well, if you're going to do this then we're going with you. If you do meet Drow you'll need all the help you can get," said Finn.

"Do not take this the wrong way, friend, but my kinsman and I would be better off alone. We two can move through the forest much more quietly than your kind," Coran said.

...

Finn glared at him but Kivan seconded the point and the two elves slipped away into the wilderness. The rest of the party waited through a tense afternoon. They barely spoke and when they did it was in hushed tones, as if dark elves might already be waiting behind the trees. Knowing Drow were in the hills gave the landscape a new air of menace, Anna thought as she tried and failed to study her spellbook to pass the time. Never had the western slide of the sun brought such nerves. Near sunset the two elves finally returned, faces set and weary.

"Nothing. The signs are confused. I am not sure what to think," Kivan said.

"We saw signs of men, most likely the locals. Whoever made the tracks made no effort to conceal themselves, that is clear. But of Drow…" Coran trailed off and looked at his kinsman.

"I saw no definite proofs. But I know they are there. I can smell them on the wind," he said.

Kivan's eyes sparked with rage and though she knew his skills as a ranger were unmatched Anna began to wonder if his emotion wasn't getting the better of him.

"I will begin the hunt anew at first light," he continued, fingering his bow. "They will not escape."

"Mayhap we need not wait that long," Branwen said. "The farmer did say they came down from the hills at night. Perhaps they will show their dark faces this eve."

"W-we might be able to set up an ambush," Khalid said, rubbing his sword thoughtfully.

"Hunting Drow under the cover of darkness?" Safana exclaimed. "What madness? Finn, I say we should take to the road before those demons appear. Why should we die for those who are already dead? It is insane."

Safana caressed his arm imploringly. Finn gave her a rather chilly look but Anna could tell by his eyes that he agreed with her view on the situation.

"We wouldn't get far before night anyway," he said slowly. "We'll stay here and keep our eyes open."

...

The light faded from the sky but they made no camp. Anna sat still and quiet, her cloak drawn tight around her shoulders though the night was warm. The waning moon rose and brought some form to the trees that whispered in the light breezes. Imoen came and sat next to her, silent as she. Though she tried to stay alert sleep came to Anna in waves and she jerked herself to stay awake. At last Jaheira crept up and whispered to the women.

"We shall take watches, you may rest."

Anna didn't undo her blankets but rested her head on the roll as a pillow and drew her cloak over her. Despite her tiredness she lay staring into the darkness for some time, regarding the stars between the trees and the darker forms of the party members that sat awake. She watched the soft, shifting blue and purple light from the moonstone set into Xan's blade until it blinked out in the darkness.

...

Someone touched her arm and she started. The figure Anna knew as Coran even in the darkness rose up again, his cloak brushing her as he went. She sat up and saw the others stirring. She didn't ask what had roused the group as she cautiously followed them into the trees; she didn't need to.

Moving forward she heard a voice cursing in a tongue she didn't know. She could make out three figures in the darkness—the tall one could only be Finn, and by the answering growl she knew another to be Kivan. The third was slight and petite, almost child-sized. It was on its knees, the hood of a cloak concealing the person's face as they leaned forward and let out another string in the strange language. It sounded like Elvish to Anna's ears but harsher, spoken with a hissing tone. The prisoner threw back the hood and Anna caught a breath in spite of herself as she laid eyes on a Drow for the first time.

It was a woman. In the dim light Anna saw white hair braided in rows and skin that seemed darker than the night, and she fancied she saw the Drow's red eyes as she regarded the newcomers. She gazed upon them with a sneer of contempt and surprisingly let out a laugh.

"At last. If I am to be slaughtered let it be at the hands of a woman, not a pathetic male. Though which shall it be—one of the human insects, or the mongrel?" the Drow said in accented common. "I cannot decide which would be more desirable. Perhaps you could draw lots?"

Anna was surprised when Kivan struck a hard blow across the woman's head.

"I told you, _morier_, not to speak unless it is to tell where your foul comrades are hiding."

The Drow shook off the hit though and cackled at him.

"Females are present now. Swallow your tongue, _darthiir_, and let your betters speak."

Kivan barked something but Finn held him back, which seemed to amuse the Drow even more.

"Such a noble _jaluk_. The _darthiir_ knows better than you. If I were loose I would take your manhood as a trophy, though not in a way you would much enjoy," she laughed.

"Enough of this," Jaheira said. "It is too late and I am too short of temper for banter. You will tell us where the children are if you value your worthless life."

"Children? My children would tear your throat out, dog, for speaking to me in such a way."

"The _human_ children," Jaheira said.

"You insult me again," the Drow said in a slow, mocking tone. "If a slave put a _rivvil_ child in me I would have torn it from my belly. A pity your mother did not do the same."

"You know I refer to the children of this settlement. Your little jokes are wasted. You may spit at the men but you will answer me," the druid replied in a tone like ice.

The Drow woman just laughed once more.

"Fools you are. But I grow weary of this game. Ask the _jaluk_ who lives in the dirt where the spawn are. Now kill me, that I may be spared more of your mindless prattle."

She raised her head high and held her neck out in challenge. Anna bit her lip and looked at the party members in the darkness.

...

_"The tall one, he is king in his imagination. King of battle, king of women. They will slip through his fingers like I slip into a warm bed. And which bed will be first?"  
"Enough!"_


	30. A Fly in the Ointment

No one had time to respond. The sound of snakes cutting the air suddenly filled Anna's ears and she threw herself to the ground. She heard the other party members crying out and she knew even through the darkness that a volley of arrows was targeting them. Behind her the Drow cried out something in her language that Anna figured must be instructions to her kin.

Fumbling with her bag Anna found a potion bottle by touch and drank the contents. Before her eyes the darkness faded into shades of grey similar to the first light of morning, given a strangely dreamlike quality by the magic. She saw several figures firing arrows from the shelter of trees and party members returning rounds of their own. Concentrating she felt her hands tingling with fire and a series of missiles found their way to the figure nearest her. They glowed whiter than white in her darkvision and she heard the figure swearing in common.

The ambush apparently not doing the damage they'd hoped the attackers turned and fled through the trees. Kivan suddenly cried out.

"_En! _Shevarash, where has the fiend gone?"

The Drow was no longer among them. The ropes which bound her lay on the ground, singed by fire.

"Gods! I didn't see—never mind! I'm more worried about that group that attacked us," Finn said, a bit wild. "One Drow can wait."

"Those were not Drow that attacked us," Coran breathed. "We would be dead. Our attackers were human."

"Why would men fight with the Drow?" Imoen asked.

"Question later, they are escaping! _Khila amin!_"

Kivan dashed into the forest after their attackers. Coran followed suit, and after a sigh Xan too set off.

"Don't forget to write," Finn muttered. "Come on, before we lose them entirely."

"Hold," Branwen said. "Should we not make sure the farmers are not under attack as well?"

"Yes," Jaheira said. "A good idea. Khalid and I will follow them, you others go scout around the settlement. If there is danger, signal us with a flare."

"Alright. We'll do better in the open anyway rather than running through the woods in the dark," Finn said.

"My thoughts exactly. Now hurry!" Jaheira said as she and her husband ran off into the trees.

...

The human party members went pushing through the forest and in a few minutes emerged into the ploughed field of the farmer Jabez. Scanning the house and its distant neighbours with her magically-aided sight Anna saw no obvious signs of danger. The houses were quiet and dark and no noise except the usual night sounds came to her ears.

"It seems alright," she whispered.

"Well, let's have a look around anyway," Finn said.

Anna's potion began to fade and with each step the darkness grew thicker. Suddenly Safana hissed to the others.

"Wait—did you hear?"

They paused but heard only silence. Then Anna perceived a dull thud from the farmer's cottage. Finn said nothing but drew his sword and one behind another they crept towards the house. The rough door was ajar and Anna heard the Drow's voice coming through the entry.

"Be silent, woman. I have no quarrel with you, only your male."

"Ye have got a quarrel with me!" Martha's shaking voice answered. "He's my husband. He may be a bastard but he puts food in our mouths. What would we do here without him?"

"Find yourself another male," the Drow sighed. "They are quite common."

"You do have issue with her, Viconia," Jabez sputtered. "She's the one what told! _She _told them adventurers about you, not me. I never said a word!"

The Drow laughed. "And you would defend this dog? See how loyal he is. Not only does he mount me like a mindless beast, he attempts to turn my wrath to you."

"Jabez! What are you saying? What is _she _saying?" Martha wailed.

"Don't listen to her, Martha!" Jabez whined.

"Ironic. He might make a good Drow were he not so weak and craven. But I care little for what the female said or did not say—you, _jaluk_, are the one I came here to find," the dark elf said.

...

Finn hesitated no longer and burst through the door, the others scrambling in behind him. In the dim light Anna saw the Drow, dagger in hand, standing over a cowering Jabez who lay sprawled in his tunic on the bed. His wife stood on the other side of the room and Anna's heart skipped a beat when she saw Martha with several children gathered close around her.

"You! Can a woman not even take revenge in peace?" the dark elf spat.

"Guess not. Now drop the knife if you know what's good for you," Finn said.

The woman scoffed and spoke an incantation. Before any of them could act she was gone.

"Again?" Finn exclaimed.

"Divine magic," Branwen said. "The wicked one must be a priestess!"

Anna pulled a handful of golden powder from a bag and sifted it into the air, calling an incantation of her own. It drifted around the room but the Drow didn't reappear.

"Nothing," she said with a puff. "Either she fled or her magic resisted mine."

"She's gone? Oh, thank the gods," Martha sobbed.

"Aye, thank ye, strangers," Jabez said, pulling at his tunic that had risen too high for decency. "Another minute and that demon would've gutted me for sure."

"And why'd she come here in the first place, that's what I'd like to know!" Martha cried, seeing to the snuffling children that clung to her shift.

"Because she thought I sold her out, love," the farmer replied, hitching on his hose.

"How many Drow are there? Our mates are out hunting down some that attacked us as we speak," Finn said.

Even in the darkness Anna perceived a slight jerk go through the farmer.

"There's no telling, really. I told your lasses there to hit the road."

"Jabez says them devils are bossing the men what took the babies," Martha said while lighting a grease lamp, sending a faint yellow glow into the dingy cottage.

"Men? But I thought Drow…" Imoen began.

"Nerves," Jabez cut in. "She's scared to death of them, and who can blame her? I reckon she thought you'd split if they heard their name mentioned."

"Aye. You had me so worked up—but Jabez, what that woman said…"

"She's lying! She was trying to kill me, for the gods' sake!"

"Why'd she lie about that? I swear to you if—"

Martha's voice began to rise and Branwen spoke loudly.

"May we leave that for another time? We need to know why the Drow are here and why they took the children."

"Yeah, really," Finn said. "I think you should just tell us what's going on."

Jabez let out a long sigh. "Alright, then. It happened near a month ago, mostly like I said to the lasses here. We were sitting round here one eve when these men with swords about knock down our door. 'Fore we can do a thing they grab two 'o our young ones, say if we don't want their gullets slit we'll hand over whatever eatables we can. Of course we hand over everything we've got, but they ran off with the kids anyway! Said they'd keep 'em as an investment. Same thing happened all over Peldvale. Thought about telling the Fist but we're all scared we'll never see our kids again. We don't know where they are—they hide out somewheres in the hills, likely in some cave. There's caves all over."

"I reckon you could find 'em," Martha said sharply. "Folks with sense stay out of the forest round here, but Jabez' dad was a ranger, last one in these parts. He taught him the land when he was a lad."

"And I told you, I'd be looking for a needle in a haystack. Even if I did find 'em they'd turn me into a pincushion with their arrows before I got anywhere near the place," Jabez said.

"They sound like a gang of bandits. Where do the Drow come in?" Finn said.

"Gods if I know. But there one was one night, right there in the yard. That same devil 'twas here tonight, in fact. I'll never recover from that shock, thought I was dead for sure," Martha said, shaking her head.

"That Viconia speaks for them," Jabez said. "She never told me many details, you understand. Threatened me if I breathed a word about Drow to anyone. I reckon they're enjoying all these troubles, looking to profit on 'em whatever way they can. Can't think it'll be good for us, either way."

"_Mmm_. Curious though, the Drow mentioned that a farmer knew where the children were. And we find her here, with you, a farmer," Safana said, looking at Jabez with her arch expression.

Martha looked sharply at her husband and he rubbed his neck as if feeling an old injury.

"I ain't the only farmer round here, you might've noticed. Besides, you can't trust a word them lot say."

"Perhaps you all look alike to her," Safana continued. "We might call on the other farms and make enquiries, yes?"

Martha continued giving her husband an evil eye and Jabez looked miserable as a cornered hound.

"By all the hells—alright, I'll fess up. I do know where the kids are."

"_Jabez!_" Martha shrieked.

"I've been trying to keep them safe! I found the bandits. I thought they'd slit my throat for certain but I offered to help 'em with their smuggling. Nobody looks at a farmer twice, and they agreed. They've been keeping them in a big cave on the other side o' the hills, in Sharp Teeth. They're all right, Martha. They'll let 'em go soon."

Martha seemed unimpressed with his account and strode across the room, slapping him hard across the face.

"All this time, _all this time_ you knew where our babies were and never said? How could you? I've been sick to death with worry!"

"Because you can never keep your mouth shut, woman!" Jabez responded, rubbing his cheek. "Just like with them women there. We wouldn't be in this mess at all—if I told you the entire valley'd know by dark. You don't think them brigands would be too happy, would ye?"

"Enough!" Branwen bellowed. "We must find the children and bring their captors to justice. Did ye truly think that by keeping your bellies in the dirt you would bring them back? These are not honourable people to keep a bargain, they will surely kill the babes once their use is at an end. You will show us where they are hiding."

"Me? No, I can't…do you know how many of them there are? You wouldn't stand a chance—you'd be killed, I'd be killed, and the kids would probably be killed, too," Jabez said.

"I think she's right," Finn said. "They'd never bring your kids back. We're hunting bandits anyway and these might be the lot we're looking for. At first light you'll show us the way."

"Show them, Jabez!" Martha commanded.

The farmer looked black but nodded his head.

"Aye. Aye. If that's the way it's to be, then I'll take you there."

...

In the dim light of early morning the party regrouped at the campsite to discuss events and plans.

"The bandits disappeared without a trace," Kivan said. "Their trail was not to be found."

"Maybe they became invisible," Imoen suggested.

"And their tracks became invisible as well? That would indeed be a feat, little one."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

"Well, this farmer seems shifty as anything—I wouldn't be surprised if he was hiding a few bags of bandit gold from the missus. But he's our best chance to find them before they find us," Finn said. "We'd better move and try to find them before dark. The Drow are less likely to attack in the daytime."

"I still find that a strange partnership, but there have been stranger bedfellows," Jaheira said thoughtfully.

"I am concerned that they might try to take revenge on the farmer's family," Branwen said. "The Drow escaped, and they are not known for letting grievances pass."

"The best way to defend the farmers is to find those that threaten them," Kivan responded.

"Aye, but might we not leave a guard? We have enough in our band to do so."

"Surely this is the last time we would want to divide our forces," Xan said. "Perhaps they can shelter somewhere until we return. _If_ we return."

He stared at the ground and Anna found herself agreeing with his sentiments. With unknown numbers of bandits and Drow to face this would surely be the hardest battle they'd yet fought. Looking around at the others she knew they felt the same.

Branwen rose up. "I will stay behind. They will need a warrior if they come under attack."

"Not a chance," Finn exclaimed. "We'll need a cleric more than ever here!"

"I am forever in your debt for saving my life. But my faith commands me to help those who cannot defend themselves, and I will not turn from that. You are strong, by Tempus I am certain the battle will go in your favour."

"We don't even know if they _will_ come under attack, but we're sure to. Don't leave us now, Branwen," Finn said through clenched teeth.

"I am sorry, my friend. By my heart I know this is what my god requires."

Finn glared into space for a moment.

"If you want to leave, then I can't stop you. You might be right after all." He drew a breath. "Imoen, you go with her."

"Me?" Imoen exclaimed. "Why me? I go where you go."

"Not this time. Besides, she'll need help. Won't you?"

Finn looked up at Branwen with an odd expression. The cleric nodded slowly.

"Aye, there will be much to do. I could use your aid, Imoen."

The girl argued but Finn remained firm and Imoen took up her pack and faithfully followed Branwen back to the settlement. Before disappearing into the trees she glanced over her shoulder and Anna saw faint sparkles of tears in her eyes.

...

"Do you think that was the best thing to do?" Anna asked Finn as they made their way to the farmer's meeting point.

"No," he said grimly. "But the enemies we fight every day are bad enough, I don't want her to face Drow as well. I don't think they'll bother to hit the farmers, whatever Branwen said. Imoen's safer there." He turned and looked behind him. "Though knowing her she'll probably follow us anyway. Damn it all, I never should've let her come with me in the first place."

"Why did you?"

He sighed. "I don't know. We were miles from Candlekeep when Gorion and me were ambushed. I couldn't go home and I didn't want her going back alone. Hardly makes sense now, does it? I wasn't thinking straight at the time. In truth I was really glad to see her. Aggrevating little sister—she was always underfoot from day one. Used to bug the hells out of me when we were kids. I thought I was too mature to hang around with a little girl," he laughed. "But I don't think I'd ever been happier to see anyone."

"I suppose you needed a friend then," Anna said.

"Yeah. Although if I'd known how far this mess would go I'd have locked her in the cellar before we left."

"Giving you a five-second head start," Anna grinned.

"Nah, more like three," he grinned back.

"Of course, it is not too late to send her home," Safana said, sauntering up beside the pair. "Just as it is not too late to abandon this mad mission. Would it not be better served by the Flaming Fist? Revenge or no I don't see why it should be up to us to resolve every situation."

"Treasure hunting in Tethyr is more Safana's scene," Finn said dryly to Anna.

"That was merely a _suggestion_, darling. I was only pointing out that there are many, far better opportunities open to us than doggedly pursuing wrongdoers," Safana replied, giving Finn a slightly acid look. "Why should such a handsome, promising young man such as you throw himself away so willingly? It is a criminal waste of talent."

"And like I've _suggested_, I'm not running without even knowing why people are after me. I could be running for the rest of my life, and all the gold in the Realms wouldn't make up for living like a wanted criminal. If you don't like it you're free to hit the road anytime, _darling_."

Finn's voice was cold and Anna began to feel uncomfortably stuck in the middle of a conversation she wanted no part of. She quickened her pace and left the couple to themselves.

...

They met with a decidedly fidgety Jabez and the farmer led them east over the wooded hills. The Wood of Sharp Teeth took its name from the jagged rocks that pierced the forest floor but Anna was well aware that the stones weren't the only fangs of the wood and she stepped carefully. She expected the farmer to give them some idea of the dangers in the area but he spoke very little about the journey ahead.

"I'll take us a little further north of the trail the bandits normally use," he said quietly. "We're less likely to run into 'em that way."

"Are you certain you will still be able to find them?" Kivan asked, evidently not rating the slightly overweight, middle-aged farmer's ranger skills.

"Now, I may not be spry as you, fellow, but this is my land. I'll bring ye to them, don't worry none."

Jabez didn't walk particularly fast but he seemed confident leading the party forward. On the other side of the hills the forest grew denser and they then went slower still fighting their way through thick undergrowth. Anna had to twist this way and that as her cloak and pack became snared in endless branches and briars. Even at the risk of running into bandits or Drow she thought they would be better off travelling down something approaching a trail; at this rate they'd all be exhausted by the time they reached the bandits' camp.

...

They encountered no adversaries though and after a sweaty number of hours travelling through the rolling, rocky hills of the forest Jabez finally halted.

"Right then," he said. "You keep heading due southeast from here you'll come across a stream. Follow it up, another half-mile or so and ye'll see it comes out of a cave. If you duck in and follow it back you'll see where the brigands are holed up. Their main entrance is on the north side o' the hill, so keep an eye open for patrols and you should get in alright."

"You're not going any further?" Jaheira asked.

"Nay, m'lady. Look, I've done what I said. But you can't ask me to fight with ye, can you? Look to the kids, they're holding them in one o' the caves."

"For truth I don't think this farmer would stand much of a battle," Coran said.

"I don't think we ever expected you to pick up a blade," Finn responded. "Maybe you ought to wait here, though."

"Hells, no, laddie," Jabez said. "I'm making tracks to get home before dark. Best of luck to you."

Without further words the farmer retreated into the woods. As they watched the undergrowth swinging where he'd passed Khalid spoke up.

"He d-doesn't seem very concerned about his ch-children."

"Indeed," Anna said. "If my child were held in a cave by thugs you couldn't stop me from charging in, farmer or no."

"He did seem nervous, even considering the circumstances," Xan said. "I know it should go without saying but I urge caution here."

"Maybe we should split up a bit," Finn said. "If there is somebody waiting for us they probably wouldn't expect that."

"We could do worse," Jaheira sighed. "Jabez mentioned a stream to the southeast. Let that be our guide."

...

The party hid their gear and split off into two groups—half heading southeast, the others heading in a more southerly direction to sweep around from behind. Amongst the groups they split into pairs, walking separately but near enough to be within earshot should danger appear. Anna went with Finn as they headed south, following slightly behind Kivan and Safana. Anna kept glancing around at the dark trees, her eyes constantly imagining they saw movement. But the trees stayed still and the lacy ferns that covered the forest floor remained motionless as well.

She just began to hope that they'd over-reacted to Jabez' twitchiness when she heard Kivan's voice crying out ahead, faint through the trees. Finn turned to her and they darted towards the sounds of battle. They walked swiftly as they could hunched over to give themselves slightly more cover. Though they must have neared the spot where they heard Kivan's call she saw neither signs of their friends nor their enemies till Finn stumbled over the body of a bandit hidden amongst the ferns.

Finn exclaimed but kept moving. Anna glanced at the man who lay on his back, arrows piercing his neck. Even in her rush she noticed that he seemed better armed and better dressed than the bandits she'd encountered before. On his arm she barely registered a band with a symbol of a black eagle's claw in a white circle.

Finn let out a whistle and a faint response came from nearby undergrowth. They found Kivan and Safana on the ground, their clothes covered in streaks of blood. Safana curled up into a ball, her face pale and her bottom lip quivering. She lifted her head but said nothing when the two came into view.

Kivan leaned against a tree with several arrows clenched in his fist, and Anna drew a breath seeing his tanned skin turning a nauseating ashen-green. His eyes were half-open and he began slipping towards the ground. Moving quickly Anna pulled a bottle from her bag and helped him drink. He jerked and started and coughed. His colour stayed wan but the horrid greenish hue faded and Anna knew he was safe.

"_Diola lle_," he rasped. "_Pilin'or 'en 'kshapsa_."

He raised the fistful of arrows slightly but their faces were enough to know that they'd been poisoned.

"I feel ill," Safana moaned, pulling herself up. "They struck at us from nowhere, those men. I was hit and could do nothing for the pain. He healed me but had not magic enough for himself."

She nodded at Kivan and for once her voice had no trace of sarcasm.

Finn gave Safana a potion of healing and Anna did the same for Kivan. The elf brushed the bottle away but finally consented when he tried to stand and instead fell to his knees.

"I believe I killed them all, but I cannot be sure. Some may have escaped," he said after orienting himself.

"Those were Black Talon mercenaries," Finn said with a scowl. "I recognised the colours from a book. You're lucky to be alive—from what I've heard they hire only the best archers. They're from Sembia though, I didn't think they operated this far west. But that seems to be the theme anymore."

"So now we're dealing with premiere mercenaries, not just opportunists?" Anna said. "It really is worrying that someone would pay for them to come so far from their usual operations. A rabble army wasn't enough?"

"I know. Gods, what a mess. If you two are feeling well enough we'd better move, though. I'm sure there's more than just these lot out there," Finn replied.

"Yes, let us find the others and pray that they have not yet come under attack as well," Kivan said.

...

Slowly they headed off in search of the rest of the party, with Kivan and Safana still weakened by the mercenaries' strong poison. They didn't get far before the air split again and they were forced to tumble down a low slope to escape the arrows. Anna lost sight of Kivan and Safana as Finn pulled her down into the undergrowth. Before they hit the ground another series of black streaks sliced around their ears.

Anna felt a sharp pain. She clenched her mouth and bit her lip hard to keep from screaming as she looked in horror at a black arrow sticking out of her upper arm. She shuddered and felt wetness running down as a line of red blood trickled out from her sleeve and went dripping down her hand. The wound burned like fire and her stomach churned as the pain began to spread outwards through her body.

Finn saw her and swore. Through her thick, brassy-tasting mouth she tried telling him that she had no antidote. He cradled her in his arms and holding her by the shoulder pulled the arrow from the wound. Anna cried out and lights danced in front of her eyes. She felt the blood flowing faster, already it soaked the sleeve of her mage robe. The trees dimmed and she felt consciousness drifting from her.

Finn quickly rolled up her loose robe sleeve and ripped her shift over the wound, the puncture obvious even through the blood. He placed a hand on her arm. Through the gathering blackness Anna felt a bright heat rising from his palm. Somehow her head cleared and the trees lightened. Looking down she gasped in amazement. Blood still covered her arm but the wound was fully healed.

"Finn, how…?" She stretched her arm out and felt no pain.

"A little trick I've learned," he said. "I haven't tried it on anyone else, but I had a feeling…I knew it would work."

"Learned to heal? What god have you devoted yourself to?"

"I'm not a priest. I just woke up one morning and realised I could heal myself," he said, looking over his shoulder as another arrow struck a tree overhead.

"What?"

"Later, alright?"

With the mercenaries still loose Anna reckoned this wasn't the time to argue. She rolled down her sleeve and after wiping the blood from her hands she cast invisibility. Following behind the sound of Finn's footsteps she saw two mercenaries launching their arrows into the trees. Finn's cry was all they heard before their lives ended.

Hurrying back Finn let out a whistle and they heard a low bird call answer. Kivan dropped lightly from a nearby tree.

"Are you injured, _mellonamin_?" he asked, seeing Anna's bloody sleeve.

"I'm fine, Kivan. It's taken care of," she said quietly. Thankfully he didn't press the point.

Safana emerged from her hiding place and they moved out again. Despite the danger Anna fell back and whispered to Finn.

"How did you heal me?" she asked.

His touch hadn't just cured the poison but fully healed the wound—magic such as that was normally only found in the hands of experienced priests.

Finn looked around but didn't answer. Finally he spoke quietly.

"You know I've been having strange dreams lately. After every one I feel changed, somehow. More—powerful. It's weird."

"_Weird?_" Anna exclaimed in a whisper. "Finn, a dog driving a coach would be weird. That's…extraordinary."

He made a face. "Don't tell anyone, will you? Knowing Jaheira she'd want to perform an exorcism or something."

"But it's—frightening too," she said, shaking her head. "I've never heard of anyone developing powers after dreams, it isn't natural. What could cause that?"

"I don't know. But just leave it, alright? If it helps us then I'll live with it. Now, come on. I want to pay those Black Talon back for this."

They carried on through the forest but Anna's mind stayed as much on Finn's bizarre revelation as the danger at hand.


	31. Babes in the Wood

The others had taken shelter in a small hollow and Anna could tell they'd encountered bandits as well.

"It was a trap," Jaheira hissed. "The farmer set us up. If we set foot in that cave we would never walk out again. Fortunately, there is another path that can get us inside the caves."

"How do you know?" Finn asked.

"Xan managed to get some information from a mercenary," she said, looking at the enchanter with that keen eye she used when spotting the party's injuries.

The elf sat with his head hanging low, his arms limp over his knees. He raised his head slightly when his name was mentioned and Anna started at the strange expression on his face. Though he often looked exhausted after using his abilities she thought he had an almost shattered aspect she hadn't seen before. He glanced at Jaheira and dropped his head again.

"They use this place to collect and sort booty they've robbed before sending it out of the region to be fenced. There are some two or three dozen mercenaries and bandits sheltering in the caves. The children are here as well," the druid said grimly. "They are using the farmers as ready suppliers of food, and their children as labourers."

"What of Drow?" Kivan asked.

"Xan saw nothing of them. Perhaps the farmer was lying about that as well, but where there is one there may be others. We should not discount them."

"Storming the place is going to be tricky," Finn said, his fingers drumming the hilt of his sword. "Soon as they know we're on the attack they'll use the kids for hostages, if we're lucky. What should we do here?"

"Drawing th-them out will only make it like you say. Stealth is our b-best option," Khalid replied.

"I agree, but they are expecting us and they will be wary," Jaheira said. "If we could get inside the caves and try and secure the children somehow we could better orchestrate an assault. Xan, you have the mercenary's memories. If you took Kivan and Safana do you think you could find your way inside without being seen?"

"Possibly," he said slowly. "Although it's doing anything of use once inside the caves that will be the problem."

"Not to second-guess you, my lady, but perhaps I should go as well? Entering and exiting undetected is something of a speciality of mine, after all," Coran said, his mouth curling.

"Very well," Jaheira replied with a sigh. "But then I think Kivan should stay with us, we would need his bow."

"As you wish," the ranger said.

"And Anna, you should also go with them."

"Would you not need a mage out here?" Anna asked.

"Yes, we'd hardly need her stumbling over rocks," Safana said. "We will need to be quiet as mice."

Jaheira gave the thief a look. "Securing the children is our top priority and magic will give you an edge. Use stealth whenever possible."

"Alright, then," the mage replied. Jaheira had a point but she still found herself agreeing with Safana.

"We will give you time to enter the caves and do whatever you think best. Then we will attack from without, and you from within," the druid concluded.

Before she left Finn pulled Anna aside and handed her a dagger.

"Take this, you might need it."

She drew the blade and saw glyphs etched into the strange, reddish-hued steel.

"Are you sure? You might need it yourself," she said, feeling the blade's heat in her hands.

"I'll be fine. It's better than yours, and I'd feel a bit bad if you didn't come back out again."

She nodded and tried to return his quiet smile.

"Be careful, alright?" he said.

"You too," she choked before hurrying off to join the others.

...

The four crept off to the south, circling round the hill to the bandits' other hidden entrance. Xan took the lead and his expression mellowed little, but Anna knew this was no time to ask what was troubling him. They came under attack once but Coran sent his arrows singing into the forest and the returning shots ceased. Since he'd joined the group Anna learned he hadn't been exaggerating his skill with a bow and she doubted even Kivan was a match for him.

"This way," Xan said when they were certain their attackers were dead.

"And you know all of this from looking inside a man's mind? An extraordinary gift, my lord. 'Tis often I've thought that such an ability would be a happy blessing, _yassen lirima dulinea_?" Coran said, smiling.

"_Dulinea ron naa e' i'omea_," Xan said dryly. "And you speak of things you couldn't possibly know."

Coran scoffed in silence but followed along behind the enchanter. After a time Xan slowed and crouched down.

"There," he whispered to his kinsman. "There are two guards in the trees. In that large oak and the chestnut some way to its south."

"_Uma, heruamin," _Coran whispered back.

He crept off through the undergrowth. Anna and the others lay still and after a few minutes she heard a short cry, then another. The elf came walking back and they found the cave entrance, which was little more than a crack in the hill concealed by vines.

Xan crawled though and Safana followed him. Coran smiled and parted the vines for Anna in a gentlemanly way—she reckoned ruefully she'd feel more comfortable with Finn following behind her but ducked into the cave. The light from the surface faded fast as they walked hunched over but Anna had only one potion of darkvision remaining so she trusted Xan's eyes instead.

...

Anna perceived the tunnel growing lighter and Xan stopped them.

"I know little beyond this point," he whispered. "There is a large cave with several side chambers. They keep the children in a pit in a small cave when they are not working, but I know not which one, and they will be alert for danger. Ah, this is madness!" he muttered to himself. "We shall never triumph here. They are too many."

"If we are to die then it will be at the bandits' hands, you need not doom us first," Safana whispered. "You and Anna must have magic enough to explode them to bits."

"Yes, if they would be kind enough to stand in a group and not move," Xan muttered back. "It isn't quite as simple as you make it sound."

"I could confuse them," Anna offered.

"That is problematic—they're just as likely to attack us or the children as each other. Likely there will be confusion enough as it is," he said. "I have a spell that might disable them for a time, but I will need to be near a group for it to be of much benefit."

"You can make me invisible, can you not?" Coran asked. "I can slip into the caves unseen and scout the chambers."

"That's too dangerous, what if the spell failed? You wouldn't stand a chance," Anna said.

"I appreciate your concern, my lady, but something must be done. If we sit here much longer strategy will be a moot point."

Xan sighed. "You are correct. There is a large rock on the end of the cave that will give shelter, we shall meet you there."

...

The invisible Coran swept off and the two women followed Xan to the end of the cave. He froze. Anna heard a sound of boots and her heart jumped as a mercenary stepped in front of them. Before he could call the alarm Xan raised his hand and caught his gaze, the elf staring intensely into his eyes for a moment before the man collapsed onto him, fast asleep. The elf grunted with the man's weight but managed to slip him to the cave floor without breaking the spell.

Xan started to walk on but Safana paused. She looked at the sleeping man then pulled her dagger from its sheath, and with a look of disgust drew it quickly across the man's throat.

"Saf—" Anna began. Even in the dim light she could see the blood staining the floor and the dark, yawning gap in the man's neck.

"And how many have we killed already today? He uses children as slaves and if he woke he would kill us all," Safana hissed. "Save your pity."

Anna closed her mouth and looked at Xan. He gazed upon the dead man with a heavy brow then let out a ragged little sigh.

"Come, and be silent."

Opposite the entrance Anna saw a tall boulder that looked as though it had cracked off from the main cave wall, leaving a narrow gap just wide enough for a person to slip into. Not the safest place to wait, she thought, but they would be more out of sight there than in the passageway. At least until someone stumbled across the guard's body, she considered grimly. The rock was a short dash from the cave and nothing offered shelter from enemy eyes. Safana pulled a small mirror from her jacket, and lying on the floor she gingerly examined the cave through the reflection.

"Go," she whispered to Xan. The elf moved swifter than Anna might've given him credit for and he quickly disappeared into the gap.

Safana gazed into her mirror again and waved Anna through. The mage drew up her hem and ran on tiptoe, imagining the swish of her clothing was echoing through the cave. She let out a little noise in spite of herself as she twisted rapidly to fit through the gap and bumped into Xan, the elf reaching up and grabbing at her hood in a gesture that spoke of silence. She leaned against the cold rock face and breathed quiet and deep, waiting for Safana to appear.

After a minute the thief brushed into the gap and she stood with an eye peeking out, alert for trouble. Xan stood still but kept his eyes on the other end of the rock. Anna stared at the stone in front of her and listened to the sounds of men within the cave. She heard rough voices and low, an occasional shout but she could hear nothing of what was said. It seemed a long time before she heard a soft voice whisper at Xan's side.

"None are working," Coran said. "They are waiting for the attack. Most of the children are in a cave to the left, but there are others held in the main chamber as deterrents to invaders. Our farmer is there as well, it was all I could do to resist putting an arrow in his backside."

Xan groaned quietly. "And so a direct assault disappears. How many children are in the centre cave?"

"A half-dozen, perhaps, scattered around the room. The others are under a small guard."

"We will need to distract the bandits as much as possible, keep their minds on their own filthy hides rather than the children. And quickly—the others will no doubt attack soon."

...

Protected by her spell of invisibility Anna crept towards a corner of the cave, stepping lightly and hoping no mercenary noticed the light breath of air when she passed mere feet away. Rough-looking bandits and highly trained Black Talon archers were a strange sight together, and the two apparently thought the same as they stood apart in little groups. Bags and boxes were piled around the room in heaps, creeping up the cave walls. Anna was surprised at the sheer amount of stolen goods but she kept her attention focused on two dirty boys who huddled together on the cave floor. No guards appeared to be watching them or the other children scattered around the room; from the bruised faces of some of them she figured the mercenaries' threats were enough to keep them still. Anna wondered if they knew what was happening. They surely realised something was going on—their quiet and frightened expressions tore at her, and for the first time she felt a true desire to hurt.

With little trouble she concealed herself behind some crates and waited. Her body slowly became visible and she still waited. She listened to the men talking and worried that one would think to look into her hiding place but none did. How much longer until Finn and the others attacked? Quietly she touched her amulet and tried to form a coherent prayer in her mind.

Her heart jumped hearing men calling from outside and she heard a shifting noise as the men in the cave stirred as one. She balled her fists and drawing a breath cleared her mind to cast her spell. Creeping up until the cave entrance was in sight she summoned a pack of wolves. They howled, the men shouted and the children screamed. She summoned a shield against the arrows and leapt from her hiding place.

A number of the mercenaries had fled the cave but most still remained. Seeing her several picked up their bows and Anna winced as the streaks came flying in her direction but the arrows brushed harmlessly aside. She cast her spell and two of the men froze like statues, easy targets for her wolves.

"Hide, behind here!" she called to the children.

They seemed too frightened to move. She dove in front of them, hoping her shield would protect them as well. Arrows hit the crates and she wrapped her arms around the struggling, crying boys and somehow managed to drag them behind the boxes.

"Stay here, stay down," she said, trying to calm them though her own voice sounded wild.

They stared with wide eyes. It only took a moment to realise that they were looking beyond her but it was too late. She choked as a hand grabbed her cloak and jerked her backwards to the floor. Without looking she raised a hand and sent a missile flying up at the man's face, hearing it explode and him scream. He slashed at her wildly with his dagger and she felt a sharp pain as it cut into her raised hand and forearm. She whirled and hit him again with an acid arrow. It somehow managed to strike him in his open mouth, and the children's cries behind her echoed her own horror at the result. Blood and bile spat from his mouth as he wheezed with the acid trickling down his throat. In a blind attack the man leaped on Anna, grabbing at her, his burned and deformed face inches from hers. Her own acid splashed onto her hands but in her struggle she hardly noticed the throbbing marks as it ate into her skin. She cried out and kicked at the man and managed to throw him off with surprising ease. Snatching at Finn's dagger she readied it to strike but the man didn't move. He was dead.

She turned to the horrified children and she knew, somehow, that she would remember the looks on their faces till the end of her days. She reached for them but they fell back and Anna realised her arm and hands were oozing blood. Keenly the pain of her wounds hit her and she dipped her bleeding hand into her bag for a potion of healing. She felt dazed but could hear the fight echoing through the cave and knew her help was needed. She grabbed at a heavy rug and helped the children bury themselves underneath it.

"I'm sorry," she heard herself say as she rose to meet the battle.

Ducking out she was surprised to see many of the bandits on the floor, convulsing and moaning like men caught in a horrible dream. The standing bandits paid her no heed as she stepped into the surreal chaos of the cave. Her wolves and a number of gnolls battled with the mercenaries that remained alive.

With a shout Jaheira and Khalid fought their way into the chamber, Jaheira pausing for a moment at the entrance. She raised her arms and spoke in a strange voice, her eyes flashing with green. From the forest outside a number of animated vines slipped in past her like snakes, whipping themselves around the mercenaries' legs and ankles, dragging them to the ground. The druid let out a cry and joined her husband in attack.

Xan had managed to teleport himself onto the rock they'd sheltered behind and stood like a strange conductor, his hands moving as he rained spells down into the cave below. Anna summoned another shield and began sending her own spells into the fray.

...

Somehow that chaos ended, the bandits and mercenaries either dead or bound. Safana and Coran led a ragged group of children out of the cave they'd been guarding and into the light. Anna told Jaheira about the two she'd concealed behind the crates but didn't have the will to face them again. She felt like collapsing to the ground.

She didn't notice Finn walking up to her until she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"You look tired," he said.

She looked at him and saw blood caked in his hair. A few fine, white scars streaked across his face, battle wounds healed rapidly by magic. His eyes were heavy but he smiled and she gave him an impulsive hug, feeling his arms wrapping tight around her. Finn held her even after her embrace faded and she pulled away, smiling at him as his arms slid from her waist.

Jabez huddled on the ground, neither a prisoner nor a free man. In dealing with the bandits the party mostly ignored him but soon Jaheira stamped into the cave and confronted the man.

"I swear to ye, there was nothing I could do! They've got me by the balls, this lot! What was I supposed to do?" he responded to the druid's accusations as she towered over him.

"I care nothing for your betrayal of us," she glowered. "But the fact that you would tolerate such treatment towards your own children, your own flesh and blood—I ought to beat you senseless as you sit snivelling on the ground!"

Her tone was intense and Anna stared at her, the druid's normally calm face twisted into rage.

"But they're fine, they are. I just saw 'em there. What was I supposed to do, fight the bandits? I brought the kids sweets, I told 'em it'd be all right…"

"_All right?_" she bellowed. "Look at them—these children have been torn from their homes, beaten…their trauma will follow them forever. Would you call that 'all right'? You do not deserve the name of father!"

Khalid placed a hand on her shoulder but she shook him off, her anger growing stronger.

"No…but what the hells did you want me to do, lady? I told you already…"

"And if you have any ability to count, you will notice that they are _not_ all here. Not according to what the children told me."

"What…what do you mean?"

"They are gone! Sold! They will be sold as slaves in the black markets of the south. The children of your friends and neighbours, and you never noticed!"

"No! I—I didn't know that, I swear! I just thought they were out back or something…I didn't…"

Jaheira raised a hand to strike the man but it paused mid-air. Her wrist trembled and her face was red, her eyes alight with a strange brightness. Her hand dropped and she hurried out of the cave, Khalid following.

"What was that about?" Finn said to Anna, who could only shake her head.

...

Kivan had been arguing with some of the prisoners, but now strode up to the trembling farmer.

"These criminals refuse to give me the answers I seek, so I turn to you. Tell me where the Drow are hiding."

Jabez fidgeted but avoided Kivan's glare and didn't speak.

"Drow?" A nearby mercenary said. "You've been eating too many damn mushrooms, elf. What're you on about?"

"I was speaking to this one. I have questions for you as well, rest assured."

Finn and Anna walked up to the farmer. He laughed in a nervous way and spoke.

"Right, that's…well, you see…there's only Viconia, alright?"

"Then what was all that with Drow working with the bandits?" Finn asked.

"Do you think we'd work with Drow?" the mercenary cut in. "We've got our limits, mate. Not that those dark buggers work with anyone. We had this job once—"

"_Oi_, we're talking to him!" Finn said. The mercenary gave him a dirty look.

"It was a lie, alright? Cover myself with the missus. Seems a bit pointless now," Jabez said. He paused but seeing the faces of the three standing over him he continued. "Gods, how'd I get myself into this mess? I was out hunting up some sheep that'd got through the fence. I thought by chance they'd taken shelter in one o' the caves that's in the hills there, there's loads of 'em near the farm. Stuck my head into one and what do I see but a Drow woman, asleep. Scared the hells out of me but I've got my bow like always. I train it at her and shout for her to wake up. She curses the hells out of me, says she wants nothing but to sleep there. She'd made a little home out of the cave, it seemed. Says she'd been there for months, not hurt anyone. Course I'm not stupid enough to trust a Drow, I've heard stories about them like everyone else. But she, ah, made a little _offer_ to me. A generous one, if you get my meaning. Said she'd perform services for me in return for being left in peace. So I thought, what the hells?"

"_You_ bedded a Drow? I'm not buying that one," the mercenary said.

"It's true!" Jabez said, warming to his story. "I even took to bringing her some little things to help make her cave a bit cosier. But then the bandits charge in. Viconia weren't too happy having to duck around you lot. She took to showing up at the house at night. That's when the missus saw her—hells, I don't think she screamed like that when they took our kids away. I had to make up some story, didn't I? Kept her mouth shut for awhile, but fat lot it did for me in the end."

"Sometimes I feel I will never understand humans," Kivan said. "Your story is vile through and through, like your own black heart."

"Hey now—I know I'm a sinner. But I bust my arse ploughing that field t' feed the family, and I get nothing but a screeching wife and bratty kids to show for it. I ain't evil, alright? I didn't know what they were doing to the kids, I didn't! But a man in my position can't afford to let opportunities pass him by, we don't get too many."

...

Before anyone could answer Anna heard a clattering and a shout coming from the entrance. She turned to see nearly a dozen men in familiar red jerkins march into the cave. A tall man in front strode up to her and the others and spoke loudly.

"Hold! By order of the Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate, I take possession of these prisoners in the name of the Flaming Fist!"

"Seriously?" Finn said. "You're bloody welcome to them. If you'd showed up an hour earlier you could've helped us fight them and all!"

"You should watch your tone, young fellow, when speaking to an officer of the Flaming Fist. In truth, we made remarkable time considering we had to follow your trail from Peldvale."

"Peldvale? Why, did you talk to—"

"Me!" a voice chirped. "I managed to find some help all by my lonesome. No need to thank me, Mister I-Don't-Need-My-Sister-For-Nothing!"

The Flaming Fist captain sighed as Imoen swept up to the group.

"Indeed, this young woman practically waylaid our patrol on the road and—"

"—And I told 'em my friends were fighting a bunch of bandits who'd taken kids hostage, and they could use a hand. Could've saved a load of trouble if somebody'd bothered to do that in the first place. What happened to your face?" she asked Finn.

He didn't answer but grabbed Imoen in a big hug and twirled her around, making her squeal. The captain shook his head.

"What of this man here, is he with the bandits?" he asked, pointing at Jabez.

"You talk to him and decide for yourself," Finn said, setting Imoen down. "I reckon he'll be in for it either way."

The four joined the rest of the party outside of the cave. Anna saw Jaheira and Branwen attending to the injured children. She felt a chill remembering Jaheira's words, but was thankful they'd at least managed to save these babes from a terrible fate. In her life Anna had heard many things and seen a fair few but somehow she could never reconcile that people would conscience harming children in such a way. To her it seemed the epitome of evil. Perhaps the Flaming Fist might be able to track the children who'd been sold, but she knew it more likely that the babes would be forever lost.

Kivan left them and went to speak with Xan, who sat on his own some ways from the others. Anna paid them no more heed until she heard Kivan's voice rising, and turning she was surprised to see the elves arguing with each other. Xan rose up and walked swiftly away with a scowl on his face, Kivan's expression matching his kin's as he followed him, speaking earnestly in elvish. They departed into the trees and Coran looked up with a raised eyebrow before returning to the confidential chat he'd engaged in with a laughing Imoen.

...

The party set up camp a short distance from the caves. The Flaming Fist commandeered the stolen goods and kept the prisoners under guard in the cavern. Branwen stayed with the children. They were all exhausted and even Coran seemed content to simply stare at the fire with a cup of wine. Anna looked up from her spellbook when Kivan stepped into the ring of firelight and sat down without speaking to anyone. She knew he'd been talking with the captain but from his face she gathered he hadn't found whatever it was he sought. After a moment though he called across the fire.

"Anna, the captain wishes to speak with you. And you, _Heru en amin_."

The mages both looked up.

"What, tonight? Why?" Anna asked.

"Yes. He has matters he wishes to discuss with you."

He had nothing else to say on his cryptic statement and returned to repairing his arrows. Anna sighed and shut her spellbook. She couldn't imagine what the Flaming Fist officer needed them for that couldn't wait until morning and she wasn't in a particular mood to find out. By Xan's expression he thought the same and she followed him in silence down to the caves.

A mercenary directed them to the captain, who showed them into a side chamber stacked with crates and boxes.

"I'm sorry to call you down here at this hour, but we've got a bit of a problem," the captain began. "My men have been sorting through the stolen property and we came across a number of crates filled with potions. We're not sure what they all are and we're worried some of them might be dangerous. Our mage took a bad hit some time ago and we haven't been assigned a replacement yet, so there's no one to tell what they might be. If you could have a look we'd appreciate it."

"With due respect, Captain, I doubt the potions are so dangerous they will not keep till morning. My companion and I are extremely tired and we are not in the proper state of mind to handle potentially hazardous goods," Xan said.

"I'll wager," he replied. "But we want to move out soon as possible, and I'd rather not leave it. Besides, there's always a chance we could come under attack and I'd rest easier knowing what I had in here. You don't need to identify everything, just see if there's any we should take extra care with. If you help us out, I'd be happy to let you keep some of the goods for your effort."

Anna looked at Xan and he sighed.

"Very well. We'll see what we can do, Captain," Anna said resignedly.

...

The mages began sifting through the straw-filled crates. Despite feeling tired and numb the work was easy for her and she identified the elixirs automatically. She found nothing that could remotely be described as dangerous though and felt irritated by the captain's request.

Tired as she was she thought Xan almost looked like he would pass out in one of the crates. He wavered on his feet and twice she saw a potion bottle nearly slip through his hands.

"You can go back to camp if you want," she said. "It's not really a job for two."

"The sooner we are done, the sooner we can both get back to our spellbooks."

"I don't think I could study any more tonight, anyway," she responded. "I'm exhausted."

Xan nodded in reply.

"Is everything alright between you and Kivan?" Anna asked after a moment.

"Yes," he said. "Or it will be, I suppose. He made a request of me, one that I didn't feel able to fulfil."

"About the bandits?"

"It was."

"He wanted you to interrogate them?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Just a guess."

Xan sighed and sat down next to one of the crates, rubbing his eyes. Glad for an excuse to get off her feet Anna went and sat near him.

"It's a remarkable ability," she said. "Although I'm not sure I would want the responsibility."

"Yes," Xan sighed again. "It is something that many tend to forget. The power to bend a sentient being's mind isn't to be taken lightly."

"You seem almost in pain when you use your abilities," Anna said. "Is it much harder than a simple charm spell?"

"Sometimes, although you have only seen me use them under duress. It is far easier on a willing person. Enchanters have access to other minds in a way that even my kin do not usually posess. It is difficult to glean information from one who resists—it takes control not to simply shred their mind like paper. I could be more forceful but that runs the risk of destroying their consciousness permanently."

"Tell me, what is it like?" Anna asked. "Being inside another's mind."

"It is…it can be unnerving. If care isn't taken it can be easy to become wrapped up in the subject's emotions. A great deal of practice is required to separate the two."

"Hm," Anna said. She sat in silence for a moment, thinking. "Is that what troubled you today?"

"One of many things," he said flatly.

"Indeed," she replied, shaking her head. "But you seemed troubled even before the battle began."

Xan pensively twisted a ring on his finger, then drew a breath.

"He was dying, Anna," he said quietly. "That mercenary. I could feel it—his fear, his pain, his confusion—all while I ransacked his memories. I tried to block it out, but I couldn't. Normally I would never do such a thing but he was the only enemy left alive, and with the lives of so many children at stake I risked it. I broke off just before…"

He frowned and Anna gave him a stricken glance of pity. It was difficult enough to watch men die in front of her, she couldn't imagine having to feel it as well.

"I can see why you didn't want to help Kivan," she said.

"He wanted me to try and find this Tazok. A reasonable request—I should not have refused, considering…but I couldn't bear the thought of entering another mind just then. Still, it is my duty to provide aid whenever I can. I must put this experience aside."

"Perhaps you will feel better tomorrow. Come, let's leave this. The captain can wait," Anna said, rising to her feet.

"Tomorrow," Xan sighed and looked at the floor, speaking the word like it made an unpleasant taste in his mouth. "Yes, tomorrow."

...

_"With lovely birds?"  
"Birds are in the trees."_


	32. Conversations

Anna's eyes fluttered open but she lay still in her blankets. The sun was up and golden light filtered through the trees, a chorus of birds singing their morning songs. Not far away she heard the clatter and talk of the Flaming Fist mercenaries near the cave, the noise mingling with the more subdued voices of the party members around the campfire. Khalid sat on the ground, talking quietly with Jaheira who crouched working with the fire. In her low tones Branwen spoke with Kivan, the elf managing a short reply now and then. He didn't seem to be listening and his jaw was as square as the night before. Anna saw Imoen and Safana still wrapped in their bedrolls, as usual not ones to rise unless prodded. Where the others were she did not know.

Looking at the little scene Anna tried to imagine that she was home in bed with the scent of the bacon sizzling in Maya's iron bake-oven drifting like a spell into her bedchamber. She shifted a little and felt stiffness in her muscles from yesterday's battles. The bandit's melting face suddenly flashed into her thoughts and she shuddered, shutting her eyes in a vain attempt to drive the image from her mind.

She heard a soft plopping noise and looked to see a small ash-covered packet resting in front of her, and Jaheira leaning over.

"Come, there is much to plan today."

The druid's words were brief but uttered with a small, yet somehow reassuring smile. Anna propped herself onto her elbow and gingerly removed the hot wrapping of leaves from the packet, revealing a steaming cake. She broke it in half and juice flowed out of the berries, staining the cake a dark purple. Too quickly she popped a piece in her mouth and her tongue tingled with heat and the berries' tangy sweetness. The cake seemed to have a remarkably restorative effect though and as Anna ate she reckoned with an inward smile that Jaheira hadn't used ordinary berries that morning.

...

After licking the honey and berry juice from her fingertips Anna rose, gathered a few things from her pack and set off towards the stream. She followed it up a ways from the caves, far enough for privacy but not so far that her cries couldn't be heard if more bandits were around. She sighed a little thinking of the days when she could go about her morning routine without looking over her shoulder to see if anything was about to pounce.

Anna splashed tingling cold water onto her face and felt it burning and stiffening her hands. Drying with a clean kerchief she realised she'd forgotten her mirror. Perhaps on purpose, as she feared what spending nearly a tenday tramping through the woods had done to her appearance. Her skin felt dry from sun and exposure and her grainy eyes told her enough about the dark circles that must be lurking there. She longed for the fragrant face oil she used at home but there in the wilderness such vanity seemed ridiculous somehow. Still, where was it written that she couldn't look at least presentable while tramping through the woods? She bit her lip though trying to reminding herself that there was no one to look presentable for.

She unbraided her hair and pouring a bit of oil from a flask she massaged it into her scalp and tresses, the keen scent of lavender and rosemary prickling her nose. More of an antiseptic scent than she'd like but it helped keep unwanted invaders from making their home in her braids, and she sat mechanically running her brush through the length of it. According to her aunt Anna's mother had hair the colour of spun gold, not the rather dingy-dark blonde that Anna herself possessed. Although if her aunt's colouring was anything to go by her mother's hair wasn't so far removed from Anna's own, she thought with a smirk.

She heard footsteps coming through the trees and turned quickly but relaxed when she saw Finn.

"You might announce yourself," she said a bit airily. "Suppose I had been bathing?"

Finn's mouth twisted up. "So close to a camp filled with mercenaries? You'd be a bolder woman than I've given you credit for, me lady," he said, casually sitting down next to her. "Not that I'd be complaining, mind you."

Anna bit her tongue but had to swallow a smile anyway. She ought to know better than mention bathing, a man like him never needing much material to work with.

"What brings you out here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Just talking with the captain, seeing what the word is," he replied. "I saw you walking into the woods, thought maybe you might be meeting someone."

She shook her head but smiled again at his grin.

"What did the captain have to say?"

"The crisis is letting up but there's still bandits all over the place. I think they're in over their heads really, it's all they can do to keep the roads safe. Don't know why the Dukes don't just send in the regular army."

"Is there still talk of war?"

"Yeah. But it seems to me they've already got a war on their hands—what good's holding back the troops to fight Amn if there's already an army rampaging through the countryside? By the sight of that loot in the cave if the bandits carry on there won't be much left to fight for, anyway."

"I suppose not. But the affairs of armies wasn't ever something I followed," Anna said.

"I think I must've read every book on military strategy in the library twice over," Finn said thoughtfully. "Though it's not the same as being in the field."

"Really? I never thought of you as much of a—though I suppose with so many books around you could hardly help it," Anna stammered, feeling herself walking into an unintentional insult.

Finn raised an eyebrow. "I was raised by monks, you know. I've cracked a book or two."

"I know, but listening to Imoen talk, it didn't sound like you were…academically inclined."

"Subtle," Finn laughed. "No, I like reading. I just never much fancied being told _what _to read. Though I'm curious what Imoen's been talking to you about."

"Never mind," Anna smiled. "But why military strategy? Are you planning on conquering something?"

Finn gave her a rather knowing grin. "I don't know—it gets the blood up. Honestly, I always thought about having a career as a soldier."

"Wouldn't you find it a bit regimented? No pun intended."

"_Heh_. You'd think so. But it always seemed to me that the army was the best place for a man with no means to advance himself. I could work my way up the ranks, be gifted some land, a title maybe. Seemed more of a sure thing than adventuring or mercenary work, even. But maybe I was being optimistic—the soldiers I've met since leaving home all seem a pretty miserable lot."

_"Mm,"_ Anna replied. She smiled inwardly picturing Finn sitting hunched over some heavy library table, a stack of books at either hand. "Why didn't you carry on with your magic studies then? Being a mage has plenty of opportunities, more than being a soldier."

"It wasn't for me. Though they pushed me so hard with it I couldn't wait to get loose half the time—Gorion probably drove me from it more than he knew."

"So what else do you like to read? When you're not pouring over the tactics of generals past," Anna asked, giving her hairbrush a light flick.

"History was interesting. Plays sometimes, though I never could stand poetry. And this."

He pulled a small volume from his jacket pocket and tossed it at her. Anna flipped through the dog-eared pages with surprise.

"Philosophy?"

"Yeah. A gift from the old man. First thing he ever gave me, and one of the few. He wasn't much on presents. It's funny, I really felt like I was big when he gave me a book. I'd sleep with it under the pillow," he laughed.

On the front page she read an inscription written in a bold, flowing hand.

_'To Finnigan—may you always remember that knowledge is the greatest strength and the most potent tool a man can possess. Your Father, Gorion. Candlekeep, DR_—'

"Finnigan?" Anna asked with a grin.

"We can just keep that to ourselves, eh?"

He snatched the book back and Anna laughed with him.

"What about you? Why'd you decide to become a mage?" he asked, tucking the revealing volume safely away.

"It wasn't so much a matter of choice," Anna replied. "When my father came back he declared that he was going to apprentice me."

"Just like that? Where was he before?"

"He travelled," she said slowly. "Mother died when I was very young, and Father left me with my Aunt Neala and Uncle Kendram. He wrote from time to time, but the first I remember seeing him was when he finally came back to the Dales, when I was thirteen. Aunt Neala wasn't very keen, I recall," she laughed slightly.

"He just showed up after all those years and took you? I don't think I'd be best pleased, either," Finn said.

"I can understand now why he left. He was always devoted to his work—raising a small child alone would've been too hard for him. But it was difficult at the time."

"And what did you think about it?"

"What?"

"Well, you must've had an opinion. Did you want to be a mage?"

"I suppose I did. It sounded exciting. Aunt just wanted me to make a respectable marriage," Anna laughed. "She never could stand that her younger sister married a wizard, even if he was of a noble family."

"And I take it 'wizard' wasn't respectable in her eyes?" Finn said.

"People back home don't have the distrust of magic that people do in Amn, but still…a mage is something a little _recherché _to a craftsman's daughter. She'd much rather I found myself a nice merchant, or a land a baronet like she did!"

His face twisted into a boyish grin that made Anna laugh harder. Laughing with Finn made yesterday in the wood seemed like a strange dream. The events of the past day didn't leave her with much time to ponder the source of his unusual powers, and though it made no sense she didn't want to. Anna knew the instinct was wrong but she was almost frightened to delve into the possibilities, frightened to mention it to one of the group. It was foolish and unwise but she couldn't bring herself to raise the subject. She didn't want anything to be wrong with Finn.

...

Almost on cue the undergrowth rustled and a bleary-eyed Imoen appeared.

"Hey—I thought this stream was ladies only!" she teased her brother.

"I'm in touch with my feminine side," he laughed back.

"Yeah, I'll bet. I think Khalid was looking for you, anyway."

"Right, well I don't want him to wear himself out calling me. See you ladies later," Finn said, giving Anna's hair a bit of a ruffle as he rose and headed back to the caves.

Imoen crouched by the stream and sputtered into the water.

"Oh gods, this is _freezing!_ Stupid nature. Hey you—is it too much to ask to have the kettle on the boil when I get up?"

She pointed an accusatory finger at a fat grey squirrel who watched her from the safety of a nearby tree.

"Nature—nice view, but the service is terrible," Anna remarked with a chuckle.

"No joke, I can't wait till we get to the inn. How much longer d'you think we'll be on the road?" she asked, disappearing into the shrubbery.

"I don't know," Anna called out. "I suppose it depends on Xan."

"Huh?" Imoen replied through the bushes.

"Never mind."

"Let me guess, hunting more bandits. I'm so sick of this," Imoen said, reappearing. "There's a whole wide world out there where they wouldn't find us, I don't understand why we need to keep chasing them."

"I suppose Finn thinks it's safer in the long run," Anna said.

"Maybe. I just hope he doesn't make me hang back and hold his cloak again. I mean, I know I'm not the best fighter but I can help too, right? Especially if I work on my magic."

"Is that why you're so keen on it?"

Since Anna offered to help Imoen study magic she'd been amazed at her appetite for the work.

"It's one reason. I guess I'm just sick of being the little girl in the group," Imoen said with a frown.

"Imoen…" Anna began.

"Yeah, I know, right? I _am_ the little girl. But I hate feeling useless."

"You're not useless," Anna said, surprised. "What brings this on?"

"I don't know," she said. "It's stupid. But everyone else here has skills, and it seems like I don't. I used to daydream about being an adventurer, you know? It seemed so _exciting_—dragons, princes in disguise, fabulous treasures, bards singing your legend. Not fighting some men who look like they've crawled out of a rubbish pit, who've been hurting kids and beating up on ordinary folks. That's not exciting, it's—horrible."

"It's not romantic," Anna agreed. "But we saved children and stopped the bandits from killing or robbing anyone else. Surely that's worth more than treasure or fabulous adventures?"

"You're sounding like Gorion," Imoen said, wrinkling her nose.

"I'm reaching," Anna smiled. "But I guess you need something to hold on to."

"Yeah," Imoen grinned. "At least until we meet some dragons!"

...

"What of dragons?" a voice said.

Anna had almost become used to Kivan's silent entrances and barely jumped as he emerged from the trees.

"_Yeep_," Imoen said, apparently more startled than the mage. "You're not hunting us, you know. You might give a little more warning before creeping up on somebody!"

"Forgive me. You are perhaps more used to people charging through the bush like an angry boar?"

Kivan spoke in his usual way and Anna couldn't decide if he'd meant the statement as a slight or not. Imoen seemed to take it as an insult though and made a little face as the elf filled his waterskin.

"Are you off on patrol?" Anna asked.

"Yes. I heard your voices. You should not talk so loudly this far from the camp."

"Why are you bothering to patrol, anyway? There's loads of mercenaries here, you can put your feet up for a change," Imoen continued.

"These men only know their weapons, the signs of the forest are not open to them. They walk clumsily through the woods and any enemy with ears could hear them from a league away," he replied, seemingly more to himself than the women.

"They managed to track you pretty well yesterday."

"With the trail we leave I am not surprised. I must always watch the path behind as much as the one before."

Kivan's matter-of-fact comments didn't seem to improve Imoen's mood and she grimaced.

"Your paint's a bit smeared," she said, a little too innocently.

The elf's rustic appearance had been a favourite subject for Imoen's gossip and Anna knew keen-eared Kivan must have picked up a few of her comments. Though she wasn't really malicious Anna didn't think the serious elf appreciated her remarks. Anna gave her a look but if Kivan picked up on Imoen's tone he paid no heed.

"Is it?" he replied with disinterest.

"Why do you wear that face paint, anyway?" Imoen asked, resting her elbows on her knees. "It must be a pain."

"Why, _mellonamin_? Does it not seem fashionable to you?"

"I just wanted to know. It looks fine…I just wondered, alright?" Imoen said rather defensively.

"If you say so. But you could perhaps forgive me for not treating your question seriously when you put so much effort into being frivolous?"

Imoen made a face that looked suspiciously like a childish pout but Kivan managed a small smile.

"Never mind, little one—you asked and I will answer. My tribe paints our skin before we hunt. We make prayers to the Seldarine for success and protection, and the painting is part of our ritual. Also, the plants we use to make the dye have oils which help to mask our scent from the animals."

"Oh. But you always wear it, even in town."

"I am always hunting_._"

"What are you hunting? You mean the bandits?"

"Yes," he answered grimly.

"Why do you hate them so much, Kivan?" Imoen asked. "Even Finn doesn't hate them as much as you do, but you never say why."

He stiffened even as he crouched near the ground. The few times the issue was raised in the group were met with little other than silence and low grumblings and the subject was quickly dropped. Anna didn't expect an answer now but after a moment he sighed.

"Some years ago, my wife Deheriana and I left our home in Shilmista. We wished to see the ruins of Myth Drannor, to marvel at the old kingdom of our people. Along the road we were ambushed by ogres. We fought but they overwhelmed us. We could not escape. They tortured us…" He trailed off but his face was like cold flame. "They killed her…I was nearly dead and they tossed me to the earth like a carcass, their amusement at an end. They threw me over her body for the animals to pick at us both. When I came to my senses I tracked them as far and as fast as I could, but they were gone. I could only return to mourn my wife. I swore then that I would never rest until I found the beasts that murdered my beloved. That I would never stop until I made them feel the pain she felt ten times over." He looked Imoen directly in the eye. "That is why I am always hunting. Why I am always painted."

Anna felt a cold chill run through her body. She knew only something deeply personal could have driven him with such tenacity but to finally hear the truth, spoken in Kivan's unelaborated way shocked her. Imoen's mouth was open, looking like she might melt into the earth at the response she surely never expected. Tears beginning to sparkle in her eyes she leaped to her feet, running off towards the camp.

Kivan stayed still but looked neither at the running girl or the stricken mage. After a silent minute Anna rose and placed her palm on the elf's head, feeling his tenseness and the heat of his skin under his cool hair. Kivan did not move. She slid her hand away and wandered into the trees, walking for some ways before standing with her arm around an oak, leaning on it for comfort like an old friend. The light and sounds of the forest were all around her but they seemed touched by the pain of Kivan's story. How much weight, how much strain can people bear before they crack in two? Kivan seemed to barely breathe at times, and now she knew why.

...

Anna drifted back towards the caves. Entering the cavern she noticed Jaheira, Khalid, Finn and Branwen standing in a group. Finn seemed to be arguing with the cleric.

"Change your mind, won't you? This is more important!" he said, waving his hands in an agitated manner.

"I can only do what I think is best, what Tempus wills. You will succeed even without my aid," Branwen replied levelly.

Anna approached them and gave Jaheira a quizzical glance.

The druid sighed. "Branwen feels that Peldvale is in more of need her services than we."

"And so it is," Branwen said. "The farmers are lost, without spiritual guidance. Look at these children! The scars of these events will mark them forever unless they are taught to develop their own inner strength. They will need the shield and sword of my god to overcome their fears and doubts. I spoke with Martha and I feel my ministry would be welcome. Their only cleric left years ago for they could not satisfy his need for coin. _Humph!_ What use does a true servant of faith have with gold? My needs are simple, and the words of my god are all the riches I require."

"P-perhaps it is for the greater g-good, after all. You must th-think so yourself, my love," Khalid said to Jaheira.

"I can understand the need to attend to the farmers' souls, though I cannot see what balance there can be while the bandits still pillage the countryside. Still, Branwen must follow her own path," she replied flatly.

"Well, I hope you keep that warm and fuzzy feeling when we're all bleeding to death in the wilds somewhere," Finn said to Branwen. "But Jaheira's right, you can do what you want."

He turned and marched out of the caves. Branwen looked more saddened than angry at his words.

"That one has much rage within. In truth, I fear for him. Guide him well, warriors," she said to Jaheira and Khalid.

"We do what we are able," Jaheira said, her eyes snapping slightly.

"Indeed," Khalid said, looking down.

"The people will need a cleric after all they've been through," Anna spoke up. "But—I'll wish you well."

...

She wanted to say the party would need all the help they could get if they were to strike harder against the bandits, but reckoned her words would fall on deaf ears. She left the three and went into the supply cave where she wasn't surprised to see Xan hard at work.

"Have you been here long?" she asked.

"Since before dawn," the elf replied gloomily. "The sun is up, isn't it? I have not seen her face today."

"Up and shining bright," Anna said, smiling for his benefit. "You didn't need to start so early. Next time give me a kick and I'll lend a hand."

"I think I'll save my boots for someone more deserving. There is certainly no shortage of candidates here," he sighed. "What was it that mad Rashemi ranger said, 'bootkicking for goodness'?"

Anna laughed quietly. "Something like that. Still, you might've called me."

"In truth I wanted some time to myself. Thankfully these mercenaries stay out of the cave as they all seem to think it is about to explode—" he paused, examining a bottle. "Hm? _Firebreath_. Well, perhaps not entirely without reason."

"Dreadful, those," Anna said. "I never would risk making them at home. How are you feeling today?"

She peered at the elf over the top of a bottle. He looked ghostly as the day before and Anna thought he could benefit from a long sleep.

"Not well. But I am used to that," he said.

Anna didn't respond. She knew now why Kivan pressed Xan so to use his abilities but had little desire to pursue the subject further. Her meditations were interrupted by the captain.

"Just came to tell you, my men are going to wait for re-enforcements to deal with the prisoners and these goods. I thank you for your help but there's no more need for you to keep working here, unless you're so inclined. Our mages will deal with the rest."

Xan scowled. "So we have put in all this effort in vain? With all respect you might've informed us of your plans, Captain."

"Plans change, my good elf. And I wouldn't say it's been in vain, you can help yourself to whatever you can carry. Not usual operating procedure but you've earned it," the captain replied.

"I'm gratified," Xan said. He pulled himself up, seemingly bracing himself. "Captain—if you truly seek to reward us, I would ask that I be allowed access to the prisoners. I am an enchanter, and it is essential that we locate a particular group of bandits, one that we believe is masterminding these attacks. Any knowledge I recover would benefit you, as well."

"Right," the captain said slowly. "The other elf said as much. If it were me I'd let you at them, but it's our rules that no one but our own deals with our prisoners. Our men have been having a word with them and we're hopeful of a breakthrough. If you wanted to sit tight I'm sure I might be able to likewise give you a bit of information, but I can't let you near them without word from the top."

"Yes, I have heard the results of your questioning echoing through the cave," Xan said coolly. "I respect your regulations, but might you not make an exception in this case? You know of the importance, and my methods are much more effective than your own."

"You were willing to bend the rules with the potions, captain, could you not look the other way in this as well?" Anna chimed in.

"This isn't the same as handing out a little booty that no one'll miss anyway. I let you near the prisoners and it'll be my neck on the line. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

He bowed and left the cave. Xan bristled.

"So much effort to protect men they will only hang anyway. Seldarine, why did I let the opportunity slip by? I knew what I needed to do. _Weakness_…I must find Kivan and attempt to apologise."

Shaking his head he hurried out of the cave. Anna made a step to follow him but stopped, and with a sigh turned back to the crates. Tomorrow was shaping up to be a long day, after all.


	33. A Parting

"Burning hands?" Imoen asked in a hopeful tone.

"No, not that one—you'll set the forest alight," Anna said.

The two women sat sheltered in a small side-cave for that afternoon's magic lessons. Anna at least was thankful for the indoor space—there were too many distractions outside and she always feared the effects a stray spell might have on the local flora.

"Maybe you're right," Imoen replied. "Why can't I just learn magic missile?"

The girl pointed a finger at an illuminated page in Anna's spellbook and the mage gently brushed it away.

"Evocation is tricky, I don't think you're ready for that yet. Trust me—having missiles blow up in your hands isn't pleasant," she said ruefully.

"I'll bet. But I've got to learn something, look at all these pages I need to fill." She flipped through the blank vellum pages of the spare grimoire Anna had gifted her, with only the dedication page and the shielding spell written in the unusual-coloured inks mages used to copy spells. "And look at yours. All those spells—hey, what's that? _Incantation for the Enslavement of Men?_ I want to learn that one!"

Anna laughed and quickly turned the page, flushing a little.

"Oh, that was just a joke from the academy days. One of the girls gave it to me—never used, of course."

"Suure," Imoen teased. "Course with _my_ looks I don't need a spell. Men just fall at my feet! Uh, not that you _do _need a spell, or anything…"

"Why, thank you," Anna smirked.

Imoen seemed to have recovered from that morning's upset and she chattered through the magic lesson as usual, though Anna felt there was almost a will behind her high spirits. Regardless, neither woman mentioned Kivan's tale or Imoen's reaction, and Anna felt happy enough to leave it for the time being.

"It takes time to build up a collection of spells," Anna continued. "They aren't figurines to be put on a shelf and forgotten about; you should meditate on them, consider their role in your magic. Each spell becomes part of the fabric of the Weave like a thread in a tapestry. They're important not just for what they do, but what they are."

"Hm," Imoen said, pressing her lips together thoughtfully. "So where does 'enslavement' come in?"

"Do you want to collect fire ants?"

"Nope," Imoen grinned.

"And your spellbook should be more than just incantations. Theories, experiences, meditations—write them down, they help trace your development as a mage. That's why magic-users treat their spellbooks with such reverence—spells can be re-written if need be, but your experiences are irreplaceable."

"I think I'd just end up doodling in mine," Imoen said.

"You'll understand what I mean. How about 'reflect image'? It has its uses, and it's a good base for more sophisticated spellwork," Anna suggested.

"Two of me? We'll be doing the world a favour!" Imoen exclaimed. "Let me at it. Though I still want to blow something up one of these days!"

"A comforting thought, to be sure."

Anna looked up to see Xan stepping into the cave, his arms folded into his robe sleeves.

"Jaheira has called a meeting at the campsite," he said briefly. "She'd like you to join the others."

"Hello to you, too," Imoen muttered. "Hey, Xan—guess what? Anna's got a spell that _enslaves men_."

"Imoen!" Anna hissed.

"How marvellous," Xan sighed. "Fortunately, I am an elf. I wouldn't keep Jaheira waiting."

He turned and walked back out of the cave, Imoen making a face after him.

"_Ugh._ Could you imagine having him as a slave? 'I picked you these flowers—they're wilting. _Sigh._ Their decay reminds me of the futility of life. I brought you some chocolates—they're melting. _Sigh._ The sweetness of their gooey centres makes me feel insignificant.'"

The girl imitated the enchanter's tone so precisely that Anna snorted into her kerchief in spite of herself.

"You are _definitely_ collecting fire ants tomorrow," she said, plucking the laughing girl up by her sleeve.

...

They hurried out of the cave into the fading light of the afternoon to where the others waited around the fire's dead ashes. Jaheira spoke as the women sat down.

"There you are. We are discussing our next move."

"These mercenaries are fools. Who are they to say we cannot interrogate the prisoners? We are responsible for their capture! Give me time, I will convince them to give up Tazok's location," Kivan spat.

"They don't know anything," Finn said. "Do you really think one of those bastards wouldn't squeal to save his own skin? If any of them knew anything, they're dead. Give it up."

"They must know something. If I had to crack their spines I would find it," he growled in reply.

"Kivan is right," Xan said slowly. "I have never heard of bandits operating in such an organised, well-concealed fashion, but even the smallest clue might have helped. Now, though…what is the use?"

He sighed and looked at the ashes with a furrowed brow.

"I do not blame you, _Heru en amin_," the ranger said, though Anna thought his jaw stayed tight as he spoke.

"I am so tired of these discussions," Safana said. "The bandits will get their reward, the Dukes are seeing to that. Enough of this foolishness! We will only end up as food for the birds if we carry on."

"Foolishness?" Kivan said, his eyes glittering.

"The lady is—not _entirely_ wrong," Coran spoke cautiously. A smile twisted out of Safana's mouth. "We have done much good here but other good deeds await. Especially ones that might have a more…tangible reward?"

"It warms me to hear a man speaking sense," Safana said, low.

Coran's eyes twinkled. Finn glanced at the elf, then at Safana. He said nothing.

"The Flaming Fist may yet discover clues that could guide us to the bandits' leaders. If we cannot interrogate the prisoners ourselves, I say we wait. Another day will not make much difference and we would lose more time seeking them in the wilderness," Jaheira said.

"Th-that seems the w-wisest course. But will the Fist truly share their intelligence? Th-they have no reason to trust us w-with such information," Khalid replied.

"Surely the fact that we fought the bandits is enough to show we're not in league with them," Anna said.

"P-perhaps. B-but we are still strangers to them, and the Flaming Fist are strict with th-their guidelines. They m-may quietly dismiss us."

"A distinct possibility," Jaheira said.

"So what, we do all this for them and they wouldn't even tell us where the bandits are? What a pile of rubbish!" Imoen exclaimed.

"I said it was a _possibility_," the druid replied. "If they did I would not blame them, I would be cautious in their position."

"Well I would, it's stupid!"

"I do not think we would disagree, but they are entitled to their rules," Xan said.

"I still do not think they have any authority over the prisoners," Kivan repeated. "They could not stop us."

"Maybe not, but they'd be sure to try and I don't feel like making enemies of the Flaming Fist," Finn said practically.

Kivan argued back and Anna drew her knees up to her chest, listening to the differing opinions crossing the campfire. She said nothing more though—there was little point. She had nothing to contribute and thought with a sigh that she'd follow Finn regardless of what was decided.

...

The clouds overhead turned deep pink and the shadows stretched long through the trees before they finally came to the conclusion that they should wait until morning before choosing their path. As though the group could do anything else that night, Anna thought with a grumble as she helped build up the fire.

After the meal Anna helped Imoen copy the new spell to her book; ideally the girl should have done it herself as a learning exercise but lacking time and the security of a workroom Anna thought it best to lend a hand. Kivan spent some time at the caves and when he returned Anna regarded his black expression with a little sigh. Clearly there'd been no breakthrough, at least none that the Flaming Fist were willing to share. Imoen glanced at Kivan then quickly dropped her head down, biting her lip slightly. For his part he'd barely looked at either of them that day and Anna wondered if he regretted sharing his tale. She drew a breath and turned her attention back to the spell.

The evening wore on and Coran worked on emptying his wineskin as usual. Anna always regarded the elves' ability to consume quantities of spirits that would drop a human man twice their size to the floor with a strange mixture of bemusement and disapproval, but before Coran joined the party the skins stayed fairly full. Kivan and Xan seemed temperate for their kind but the younger elf generally had no qualms about making merry and the days spent in the wilderness meant his supply quickly ran low, the idea of rationing clearly not a familiar one to him.

Pondering this Anna wondered why she assumed Coran was the younger of the three. She knew nothing of their ages and she had enough experience with elves to know that even the older of their kind often behaved in a manner than might be considered flighty by human standards. But she'd heard that for all their perpetual youth elves' experiences stayed impressed on their aspect, and though time did not usually touch them in so obvious a manner as humans it was still possible to read the years of their lives in their countenances. Judging by the serious and often sombre appearance she saw in Kivan and Xan she guessed their time had been marked by pain, experiences that were powerful enough to weigh them down, to age them in an intangible way. She knew now what caused the look in Kivan's eyes. Anna wondered then if Coran was in fact a young elf, or an older one that had been blessed with a life of happiness.

...

He noticed her regarding him and Anna shifted in a slightly uncomfortable manner as he came and reclined next to her.

"Ah, my lady, your studiousness tires even me! Come, share a glass of wine and let me listen to the soft tones of your voice this eve," he said with a fine, if not somewhat tipsy smile.

"I'm afraid I've had my fill of wine for the night," she replied. "And I must study—what would happen if we were attacked and I didn't know my spells?"

"There are enough grim expressions in this group to drive even the most determined assailant to tears without a blade ever drawn or cantrip cast," he said. "And you have not tasted _my_ wine. I have very little of this fine vintage left, but I will gladly share it with you."

He smiled and held out his horn cup to Anna. She gave him a look but resignedly took a sip, pausing with surprise when the wine touched her lips.

"Coran? Isn't this—"

"_Elverquisst_. You know it, then?" he sounded somewhat disappointed. "I like to have some in my possession whenever fortune smiles upon me."

"It's very strong," Anna said, swirling the gold-tinged elven wine and smelling the remarkable fruit aromas that flowed out of the cup.

"Aye, your kin do make some excellent vintages but they are rather weak for elven tastes. But not to worry, my lady—I shall not allow you to become overtaken by intoxication," he laughed.

Anna rather doubted his statement but allowed herself a small drink of the succulent ruby liquid before handing the cup back to him.

"Oh come now, surely you can handle more than that?" he said, eyes sparkling.

"Perhaps," Anna coughed. "But this isn't really the time or place to find out."

"We are amongst fair trees, under a blanket of stars on a fine summer's night. What better time and place could you ask?"

"One where we're not surrounded by mercenaries and bandits?" Anna said, a smile curling out of the corner of her mouth.

"_Feh_. I'll make certain none of them discovers this little treasure, hm?"

He smiled at her impishly and Anna found herself taking the offered cup once more.

"Now that you have shared my wine, perhaps a reward?" Coran said.

"Reward?" Anna said, stiffening.

Coran grinned. "Nay, my lady, though I haven't forgotten that I am owed no less than two kisses from your fair mouth. But perhaps you could grace me with a secret?"

"A secret, sir, for two sips of wine?" Anna said lightly.

"_Elverquisst_," he corrected her. "But do tell me something. Tell me of your first dance, or of your first kiss, that I might burn with jealousy."

Anna laughed, a little louder than she would have liked. Coran was a ridiculous rogue but she couldn't deny he had a charming way about him.

"I shall keep those secrets for now," she said. "But I will tell you of the first time I climbed a tree."

"A tree?" Coran laughed. "Come now, we elves do not find them _that_ interesting. Unless, of course, you did not climb it alone?"

She smiled. "It is this tale, or none other, Master Elf." Coran genuflected and she went on. "Near to my uncle's farm there was a true grandfather oak, a tree taller than any other in that place. The boys used to dare one another to see who had the bottle to climb the highest. They'd scale far up its branches, but none of them had the nerve to reach the top. When I was quite young I used to tag along after a group of boys, which annoyed them to no end. One day a boy got the idea to challenge me to climb the tree. I didn't want to but I knew I couldn't back down, so I grabbed hold of one of the branches like I'd seen them do, and started making my way up. You see, although I was surrounded by forest I'd never really climbed a tree; my aunt didn't think it was very ladylike. But when I looked down I panicked—the ground seemed a thousand miles away, and I started to cry. I couldn't get down, and one of the big boys had to climb up and help me. I was mortified."

"This is not a very uplifting tale, dear Anna," Coran said.

"It's not finished," she smiled. "They teased me all the way home, and I stamped my foot and _swore_ that I was going to climb that tree. My juvenile pride was soiled, so the next afternoon I went back to the tree, alone. I didn't look down, I just kept going up. Finally I got to a point where I couldn't get any higher and I looked around. I couldn't believe it—I was at the top of the tree! I could see the forest stretching away for miles and miles in every direction, and the mountains in the distance—I never imagined you could see so far. But then the panic hit me again, and this time I was all alone. No one even knew where I was."

"Let me guess, an eagle came along and carried you off in its talons," Coran said with a smirk.

"Hardly. I sat there and cried. I sat there till the sun went down in a thousand colours, and the stars came out and the moon rose. I still remember the light of that huge yellow moon washing over the treetops, and the mists hovering like spirits in the glades. I could see something big flying, far away on the edge of the horizon. I saw fires in distant towers, flickering like stars settled on the trees. I heard strange creatures calling away in the woods. And finally, I forced myself to climb down and run home."

"Were you punished?"

"You've no idea. My aunt was hysterical; they'd had people out looking for me, certain I'd fallen into the mill pond or been eaten by something. I didn't think they'd ever let me out of the house again. I felt horrible, but the worst part of all was that no one ever believed that I made it to the top of the tree!"

Anna laughed and Coran smiled.

"So you felt the pain of your hubris. Is there a moral to your story, my lady?"

"Yes—never climb a tree in your new dress."

The elf threw back his head and laughed. "An excellent moral. Another drink?"

"Well—" Anna hesitated. She'd noticed a few sidelong glances from certain party members and Finn's scowl was plain as he watched the pair laughing together. "I really should return to my studies."

"Ah, you'll ruin your eyes staring at that book. Perhaps we could go walking? The moon tonight is as fine as the one in your tale."

He reached out and gently slid her hand off the cover of her spellbook; it might have been the wine but Anna thought his hand felt remarkably warm.

They were interrupted by Jaheira clearing her throat. Anna hadn't even noticed her making the rounds.

"_Ahem_. It is time to draw lots for the watch."

She held out a fistful of plant stems and Anna flushed and drew one from the druid's fist.

"Second," Jaheira said.

"The middle of the night," Coran said. "Let us see what fate has in store for me!"

He grinned and reached for the replaced lots in Jaheira's hand, and with a light gesture pulled out the short stem.

"What a coincidence! I have drawn second watch as well," he laughed.

Anna's eyebrow raised and Jaheira's mouth twitched slightly.

"I am afraid you have _third_," she said, a twinkle in her eyes. "Safana drew the other second watch."

"Ah," Coran said, leaning back. "Fortune is a cruel mistress."

He gave Anna a boyishly naughty look and though she recognised the import of his words she still snickered into her hand.

...

The next morning Anna awoke to the sound of reinforcements trooping into the camp. Rising and dressing as quickly as she could under the view of the crowd of Flaming Fist and their bandit prisoners she wondered what the party would do.

"I'm sorry, but we've got nothing of use out of them," the captain responded to their enquiries. "I thank you again for your help, but we need to herd this lot up to the city where they'll stand trial. We keep hoping the brass will give us permission to try them ourselves after capture but no such luck. I tell you, the jails at headquarters are getting mighty full even though the city hangmen have been lining their pockets from all the extra work. Better by far to give them their due process out here, get them out of the way. You got that loot out of the cave, I hope? Couldn't let you near it now, not with a superior breathing down my neck. Feel free to take the scalps off the dead though, should you be heading back to Beregost. Thanks again, we appreciate the work of good citizens like yourselves."

He bowed and went back to directing his men.

"Fucking fantastic. _You're welcome!" _Finn growled. "I guess it's the Friendly Arm now?"

"It appears we have little other option," Jaheira sighed.

"There is one," Kivan said. "The trail is many days old but I discovered a way the bandits used through the forest to the northeast. It may lead us to the others."

"Are you sure you could follow that old a trail? There's a road that crosses north of here, it might just lead there, anyway," Finn said.

"I will find the trail, _ohtar. _If I have to follow it on my hands and knees, I will find the beasts."

Kivan's expression was black. Finn let out a breath and looked at Jaheira, who said nothing.

"I don't know," Finn said finally, running a hand through his hair. "It seems pretty iffy. I think we're better off making tracks for the inn, somebody there might know something."

"Why should we travel for days in hopes of finding a trail when one is here at our feet? We must not let them escape again!"

Kivan's voice lowered to almost an animal tone and Finn bristled.

"You think I don't know that? I want to introduce these guys to my sword, too. But I don't think this trail of yours will go anywhere, honestly."

"We will not know unless we follow it."

"It'd be a blind chase, and we need to resupply. I'm sorry, mate, but the inn it is."

Kivan breathed quietly, his black eyes sparking.

"Then I will wish you good fortune on your hunt."

"You—what?" Finn said. "You aren't leaving?"

"I am. Every instinct I have tells me that I will find Tazok at the end of that trail. If you do not wish to accompany me that is your choice, but I must walk the path that Shevarash lights for me."

Anna's mouth opened and she looked at Kivan, then at Finn.

"_Lle tanaka, Kivan?"_ Xan spoke up. "_Alye' lye caela poldora_."

"_Uma, mellonamin. Sina naa menamin._"

Xan sighed and looked him in the eye, then spoke resigned words of farewell.

"I don't believe this, first Branwen, now you?" Finn exclaimed. "We need you, Kivan. We can do this together."

"I should be glad of your assistance, but I cannot follow you. I saw signs—I know this way is correct. Come with me and we shall both find the revenge we seek," Kivan said.

"What revenge do you have? Anyway, you can't know this based on a few footprints. Come on."

"No," the elf's eyes had a strange light. "There was a dead spider on the trail. It is a sign from the Black Archer, I am certain."

"A spider?" Finn scoffed. "I can turn up a hundred of them under the leaves. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Kivan has made his decision," Xan said quietly.

Anna thought Finn looked fit to burst. He looked around at the rest of the group who stood silently.

"Fine. Great. Well, come on then—let's get packing!"

He stormed off and began tearing down one of the tents. Jaheira sighed and shared a look with Khalid, then began speaking quietly with Kivan. Anna could think of little to say so she turned and began readying her pack for the road. The idea of Kivan leaving made her feel almost—frightened, in a way that surprised her. She worried for him but also for themselves; she hadn't realised how much of a reassuring presence he'd been. Looking over her shoulder she hoped somehow that Jaheira and Khalid could convince the elf to stay, but she doubted it.

...

Three groups set forth from the caves that morning—Branwen and the children with the Flaming Fist and their prisoners towards Peldvale, the party towards the Friendly Arm Inn, and one lone elf into the trees to the northeast. Anna watched Kivan disappearing into the forest; he didn't look back. She'd managed only a short goodbye before they departed and for his part he seemed like he hardly saw her, and he responded automatically. Anna sighed and hurried along behind the others.

The group spoke little as they made their way through the trees, Coran scouting the way in Kivan's place. Finn walked in a stormy silence, the others seeming melancholy and lost in their own thoughts. Losing two valuable party members in as many days was a blow. Imoen glanced at Anna, trying to smile without much succeeding. They were all unusually quiet at their noon meal and after they moved on Anna fell back to speak with Xan.

"Do you think he'll come back?" she asked.

"Do you think so?" Xan answered shortly, then sighed. "No. I can only pray the Seldarine protect him on his journey."

Anna was silent for a moment.

"He told us—Imoen and I. The reasons he hunts the bandits," she said quietly.

"You know then?" he said. "Yes, it is a horrible burden for him to bear."

"I can't imagine. Though I cannot understand why he kept it to himself for so long."

"Elves are not necessarily in the habit of revealing their entire past within minutes of meeting someone. However…I believe he feels...shame. Shame that he could not protect his beloved."

"I'm sure he did everything a person possibly could."

"Perhaps, but there is often a difference between knowing and feeling." Xan sighed again. "I have no wife, and it is likely I never will. But I do know that if someone did to her what they did to his, I would never rest until I had found them and punished them with the most amount of pain I could bring to bear."

He spoke in his usual quiet way but Anna was so surprised by the undertone of violence in the restrained elf's words that she stared at him.

He looked at her. "Am I not allowed to be angry that those monsters tortured and murdered one of my kin? I would feel rage regardless, but the blade I wield commands me to protect my people, and though I never knew them—as strange as it may sound to you, I feel almost as though I failed. It tears at me, and I am angry. I am angry for his sake."

Anna looked down at the leaves.

"But you did not go with him."

"No," he sighed. "If he asked I would have followed him, but I feel perhaps he needs to be alone once more. It saddens me, but I will pursue the bandits in my own way. Perhaps our paths will cross again. For now though I can do nothing but hope that his rage does not get the better of him. But come—we are falling too far behind the others."

Anna quickened her pace and said nothing more.

...

_"Are you certain, Kivan? Together we have strength."  
"Yes, my friend. This is my path."_


	34. Travellers' Rest

Rarely did Anna want anything more than to see the drawbridge of the Friendly Arm Inn opening ahead of her. All through the long days marching and the evenings sitting in the fire's glow she tried to keep her thoughts on warm beds, decent food and hot baths. Especially baths, she considered while regarding her fingernails that somehow picked up more dirt on the road than they ever did digging in her garden.

It was reassuring though to see travellers passing once again on the highway—despite the continued bandit attacks merchants seemed to take it to heart that the worst of the iron crisis had past and they set their caravans on the road once more. Knowing that she'd played a part in restoring trade to the coast gave Anna a happier feeling than she'd had in some time.

The sun was heading westward on the fourth day when the inn's tower finally appeared over the treetops, the banners on the roof fluttering like little flags of victory for the weary group. The sight seemed to cheer them all and they quickened their pace to the guardhouse.

...

"All right folks," a casual-sounding guard said after they walked over the creaking drawbridge and under the portcullis that hung over the arching entry. "I'll need to take your weapons, if ye please. Keep rules."

Finn glared at the guard but unbuckled his sword without comment. It surprised Anna but she remembered he'd been to the Friendly Arm before and would be familiar with its 'no weapons' policy. Reluctantly she handed over her fine quarterstaff and enchanted dagger, the others doing the same with their arms except Xan.

"I am sorry, but I cannot allow my blade to leave my possession. The last time I stayed I received a special dispensation from the proprietor to carry it within the keep's walls," he said stiffly. "I'm certain if you spoke with Landlord Mirrorshade he will grant one again."

"Yeah, there's lots of folk what have special permission to walk around armed," the guard said, Xan relaxing slightly at his words. "They're called the guards. I'm sorry, but if ye want in, you'll have to hand your weapons over same as everyone else."

Xan scowled. "My blade is not an ordinary weapon. No one save myself can handle it without injury, and I need to have it near me at all times."

"We'll take good care of it, don't worry none. And you don't need weapons inside, our guards are some tough fellows," the guard said with a weary sigh. Anna had the feeling he'd had similar arguments with patrons many times before.

"I'm certain, but you fail to understand—"

"Hold on, Zeb, I remember this elf," another guard said, walking up to the group. "He's the one—remember? Durey tried to grab hold o' his sword and got fried like a slab of bacon."

"That's him?" the first guard said, a new hostility and suspicion in his voice. "Poor fellow had his hands wrapped up like a mummy for ages afterwards. How'd they reckon you didn't do it on purpose?"

He eyed the elf and Xan stiffened again.

"I regret that incident, but if your friend had listened to me rather than try and tear my blade off my belt it never would have happened. He should count himself lucky that—never mind. I had nothing to do with his injuries, I assure you. As I said, if you would speak with Bentley Mirrorshade—"

"Gentlemen," Jaheira interrupted, "my husband Khalid and I are known to the Mirrorshades, and I am willing to vouch for this elf."

"Right," Zeb said slowly, regarding the druid. "You'd be willing to take responsibility for him, then?"

"Of course," Jaheira replied. "I give you our word that our intent is peaceful."

Zeb let out a long sigh. "All right, then. But it's on your head, ma'am, if he causes trouble."

"Naturally. Thank you, my man."

"Take this token," he said, handing Jaheira a small metal plate with runes etched on it. "And give it to us when you leave. Remember—no token, no weapons. Ye lose it or someone runs off with it—not our problem. Enjoy your stay at the Friendly Arm."

With a few glances at each other the party made their way into the inner keep.

"Jaheira—thank you for your assistance," Xan said.

"Not a problem. Though I trust you'll be keeping your blade at your side?"

"What? Why, you don't—" he stopped when he noticed the humorous look in her eyes. "Of course," he coughed. "I take it you and Khalid have some…influence here?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, the Mirrorshades are allies of our organisation," she replied, low.

...

Xan said no more as they made their way towards the tower. Anna looked around the keep that was a fairly familiar sight to her. Before harvest time she usually made the long trip to Baldur's Gate to barter for magic and other goods that were difficult to come by in Beregost, not to mention have a chance to examine the latest fashions and hear the news of the bustling port and beyond. This year it seemed events had conspired to bring her north earlier than usual, and she wondered idly if their journeys would take them anywhere near the city.

The inner keep was a jumble of small thatched cottages, stone guards' quarters and other buildings with a number of loaded carts and wagons lined along the high stone walls. Hired guards milled around their charges, keeping the merchants' caravans safe. Commoners, mostly inn employees bustled about, a few stopping to gossip in little groups. A few squealing children chased frightened chickens around the yard till their mother yelled at them to stop. Some inn patrons strolled in the pleasant air of evening, laughing and talking easily. They were mostly adventuring types by the look of them, easily distinguished from the inn guards by their odd lack of the usual side-arms. They lightly regarded the party with a casual air of appraisal, and though Anna made judgements of her own she didn't think any of them seemed overtly hostile.

Rising up above the courtyard, the inn tower stood at six storeys one of the tallest structures Anna had ever seen. Standing at its feet she truly felt awed by its height as she craned her neck to see the narrow, slitted windows rising up its stone face, its imposition only marred by the odd sight of drying laundry dangling from some of the windows.

The Friendly Arm was an oasis in the wilderness but the fact that barely twenty years before it was in the hands of worshippers of the dark god Bhaal always made Anna slightly wary. She knew Gellena Mirrorshade had performed countless rituals of cleansing but she wondered if such blackness could ever truly be made pure. Did some residual taint still dwell within those walls? Regardless, exhausted as Anna was if the Lord of Murder himself appeared in her chamber she'd likely just roll over and go back to sleep.

Anna noticed that Imoen seemed strangely quiet and watchful, regarding the patrons with a pursed lip. Recalling the tale of her and Finn's encounter with a bounty hunter last time they stopped at the inn it wasn't surprising.

Finn walked up beside Anna. "Keep your eyes open," he said. "I don't care what the guards say, people manage to sneak weapons in here pretty easily in my experience."

"True," Anna said. "The tower has magic dampeners but I recall an irate wizard using a wand with a nasty effect some years ago. I guess nowhere on this earth is completely safe."

"No. That's why it's best to look after ourselves."

His eyes had a glimmer and Anna recalled she'd only seen him hand over one dagger, though she knew he carried two.

...

The party walked slowly up the stone steps and into the great hall. The room had no windows but it was bright from candles mounted into numerous wagon-wheel chandeliers. A smile spread over Anna's face looking at the long tables where patrons sat eating the meats that a busy maid turned on spits over the big open fire, the smell of their juices making Anna's stomach growl. Barmaids worked the room, carrying trays laden with pewter mugs to the jolly drinkers. A few people were singing and the air buzzed with the happy sound of laughter and activity.

They made their way up to the bar where they were greeted by the curious sight of a bustling gnome who sported a heavily waxed beard that turned upwards into a perfect curl. His head rose mysteriously over the height of the bar; it might've surprised Anna more but she knew Landlord Mirrorshade wore stilts of his own fashioning when pulling pints.

"Be with you in a minute, I'm run off my feet here," his gnomish voice chirped, not looking up as his hands deftly set up another round of mugs to fill.

"Bentley—" Jaheira began.

"Aye, aye, a minute, lass. _Suze!_" he bellowed at a harassed-looking barmaid who'd plopped a tray of empty tankards on the end of the bar. "Go and kick Lars up his backside, we're all but out of clean mugs!"

"Right," Suze drawled, heading back to the common room.

Bentley shook his head. "Young folk these days, they don't listen for nothin'."

He carried on with his work and Jaheira cleared her throat.

"Bentley!"

"Alright, alright, what do ye—ah, Jaheira! Why didn't ye announce yourselves, eh? You're a sight for sore eyes. How's life treating you and your man?"

"We are well enough, Bentley, thank you," the druid replied. "I hope you and Gellena are the same. We are in need of rooms—"

"Ah! Bad timing there, we've just had another caravan come in. The place is full up."

"Full?" Imoen squeaked.

"Aye, but don't worry. I'm sure we'll manage to fit our old friends in somewheres. Eh, how many you got with ye? One, two—_Hey, Beln!_" The landlord called to a beardless young gnome who stepped easily under the barrier to the bar, swinging a jangly set of keys on a ring. "Go and get an upper room cleaned out, with beds for eight."

"Right, Pa," the gnome replied, promptly disappearing.

"Won't be long," Bentley said to Jaheira. "Go and have yourselves a sit-down, grab a bite!"

Anna thankfully collapsed onto a seat, thumping her pack down and shoving it under the bench with a foot. She was happy they'd have a room but wished that the landlord had given them two. She longed for a bit of privacy and even though she'd spent many nights outdoors sleeping near the men the idea of sharing a bedchamber seemed rather inappropriate. Still, a bed was a bed.

A barmaid brought them all a round of good ale, then two young men appeared bearing food. One sliced trenchers and the other ladled from a clay tureen a steaming hot pottage of pale leeks coloured yellow with saffron. Anna wiped her hands as best she could on a kerchief then hungrily began sopping up the fragrant vegetables with a piece of bread.

The broth barely had time to soak the bread plates before the party devoured them down to the last crumb. The Friendly Arm did serve quality food for a wayside inn, Anna thought, and she looked forward to a proper meal.

...

They'd barely finished their ale when the landlord's son reappeared and ushered them up seemingly endless flights of spiralling stone steps. Hurrying down a narrow corridor he paused and heaved open a heavy door, revealing a small chamber that barely had space for the four bedsteads that were crammed into the room. The lack of windows made the room dark and stuffy.

"Here you be," Beln said. "Not much to look at but it's clean. You be wanting candles? Five coppers a piece."

"Five?" Finn asked. "That's pretty steep, isn't it?"

"What can I say, m'lord, the troubles have been putting up costs. You want 'em?"

"How about three coppers?" Finn offered.

The gnome wrinkled his nose. "Well, if you're really that out of pocket, m'lord…I can let you have them fer four."

Finn gave the gnome a look. "We're not paupers. Just give us a half dozen, eh?"

"Glad to hear you're solvent, sir. That'll be thirty coppers, then, or a silver half-moon if you've got it."

"Hey—" Finn protested.

"Just put them on our bill, please, Beln," Jaheira interrupted.

The gnome nodded and counted out six candles from the box he carried under his arm.

"Right then. Evening meal's starting soon. The bathhouse is behind the inn. Enjoy your stay," the gnome said before bowing quickly and disappearing again.

"I think you have something to learn about bartering with gnomes, dear Finn," Safana laughed, placing a candle in a pottery holder.

"I don't usually _barter_ with anybody," Finn grumbled, clearly somewhat embarrassed by her sharp laughter.

...

As soon as she could Anna skipped down to the brick bathhouse. She left the room before anyone else and her feet went lightly down the stairs, almost unused to the sensation of walking without her pack weighing down her shoulders. A bored-looking young woman tended the door.

"Deep bath's ten coppers, stand-up wash is three. Soap's a copper," she said.

Anna paid for a deep bath and a small piece of grey soap. The girl rang a bell and a rather damp woman appeared.

"Deep," the girl said, going back to examining her yellow curls.

"I must be psychic," the woman said. "One's ready to go. Ladies' is down the hall to the right."

Anna hurried along and stepped into the bathing chamber where the damp and misty air was turned furnace-like by a large kettle of water bubbling over the roaring fire. A number of rectangular wooden tubs were lined up along with a few smaller round ones. Anna disrobed by a full tub and stuck a foot into the hot water, but for some reason she looked up and promptly paused in shock. Regarding her out of a nearby tub was a small, craggy face surrounded by long hair the colour of rust, and a braided beard of the same colour drowned in the steaming water.

Anna pulled her leg out and snatched her dress up in a panic. The face still watched her levelly, unphased by her sudden start.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Anna stammered. "I thought this was—"

"What's yer problem, lassie?" the dwarf's rough voice asked. "This be a public washroom."

"Yes…yes of course, how silly of me," Anna flushed, and returned to the tub. Unlikely as it seemed, the other occupant's voice was clearly female.

"Smegging humans," the dwarf muttered. Anna ducked her head under the water and let out a little squeal of embarrassment.

...

With clean skins if not clean clothes the party later found seats at the crowded tables downstairs. Two linen shifts and a simple wool overdress were all the outerwear Anna carried and the days on the road had left them worse for wear. Another advantage to being a mage, she thought as she fondly smoothed the silken green fabric of her robe—it's enchantments did have the unintended effect of keeping off most stains.

Finn seemed in the mood to spend coin and ordered up a veritable feast. Flagons of wine, grilled beef drizzled with orange and cinnamon, stewed chickens in seasoned almond milk, flaky poached fish and a variety of vegetable pottages were all set before the party. Anna felt blissfully happy working her way through the meal, and Finn noticed her light eyes.

"Hey, we may have to bunk like peasants, but there's no reason we can't eat like kings!" he declared.

"I'll drink to that!" Imoen said, lifting her goblet high.

"Hear, hear!" Coran said, meeting her toast.

"Yes, it is good to have a taste of civilisation again, even if our living quarters could be better arranged," Safana said. "How I long for a big bed of feathers, draped in silk and covered with pillows."

"And a sunken bath, I assume?" Coran asked, his eyes glinting at her.

"Of course," she purred. "With oils scented of…jasmine, I think. And rose petals sprinkled in the hot water."

"Red roses?"

"No," Safana smiled. "White."

"I stand corrected," the elf said, licking his lips slightly.

Anna glanced at the pair but said nothing. Their flirting must have been as obvious to the others as to her, and she was angry at Safana for being so blatant in front of Finn. Still, she couldn't deny that a part of her was pleased by the tension in the relationship. Finn's face was black and Anna could tell he vibrated with the effort of restraint. She chastised herself for her thoughts and wondered what had gotten into her since she left home.

...

By the time they'd finished eating the great hall hummed with activity. Finn ordered up another round of drinks but Xan excused himself to return to the room and study.

"I suppose I should go, too," Anna said slowly.

Though she didn't agree with the elf's seeming insistence that mages needed to keep their heads bowed over their books at every possible moment his devoted studiousness often made her feel guilty.

"What? Come on, stay," Finn said to her. "The minstrels are just warming up. Relax a little!"

"Yeah!" Imoen chirped.

Anna smiled at them but shook her head and followed along after the enchanter. It did feel good to be wanted, and she was of half a mind to head back to the table.

Walking past a corner table a low wolf-whistle greeted them from the shadows. Anna was surprised to see a filthy halfling sitting there alone in the dim light, a jug of some unidentified liquor open before him.

"Hello there, sweetie," the halfling said to Anna. "Care to keep a fellow company?"

"Not tonight," Anna said shortly.

The halfling sneered, revealing a mouth of blackened and missing teeth.

"No? Aw. But yer friend's a pretty thing, too, ain't ya?" he said to Xan. "Such a fancy purple frock. But she's a bit flat-chested for my taste, tut. Now yallow-hair, you I like. Come on, sweetie—ye wanna go out back and get those out for Monty? I'll give ya a copper."

Anna recoiled. "Mind your manners, rogue," she stammered. The halfling just laughed again.

"What's the matter?" he teased. "Can't take a compliment?"

"Come, let us leave this creature," Xan said to Anna, regarding the halfling with a look of contempt.

"Not one for defending sweetie's honour, are ye?" the halfling laughed. "Maybe pretty lady's jealous? Tell ya what, you can come too. If you think yer knees'll hold out, that is."

The halfling cackled and Xan seemed to go purple, fishing for a reply. Anna pulled at his robe sleeve.

"Never mind him," she said quietly. Though he was only a halfling there was something in his manner that unnerved her more than his lewd words.

"Aw, where you goin'? Yer friend there wouldn't know what to do with ya. Now Monty, he knows where to stick it."

The halfling's arm blurred and like a streak a small black stiletto bit its sharp tooth into the wood of the table, where it stood quivering. The halfling regarded them with a malicious smirk.

"You should not speak to her in such a manner," Xan said, though his hand slid slightly towards his blade as the halfling deftly pulled the stiletto from the wood.

"Her? I was talkin' to you!"

He threw back his head and howled. Without another word the mages glanced at each other and hurried on, up the circling steps to the room.

"So much for 'no weapons'," Anna said grimly as she cast a spell against the locking wards she'd set into the chamber door.

"Indeed, though I can't imagine anyone volunteering to search that undersized troll," Xan said with disgust. "Ah, is there any air in this room? I cannot stand being shut in, especially not after—"

He didn't finish his thought but Anna guessed well enough what he meant.

"It is dreadful. Maybe we could move the beds onto the roof?" she said jokingly.

"No," he sighed. "With my luck it would just start to rain."

He spoke with all seriousness and Anna couldn't help but smile a little as she took a seat on a bed and opened her book.

...

Anna lost herself in her studies and she wasn't sure how much time had past before the door creaked open and a pink-cheeked Finn stepped into the room.

"Hey kids—glad to see you're still awake," he laughed. "Come on, Anna, I want to show you something."

He took Anna's hand and guided her off the bed.

"What?" she asked.

"You'll find out when you see it," he replied.

"Finn—" Anna laughed.

"Ah, you'll be back hunched over your book in no time. Hurry up!"

His eyes sparkled in a boyish way and she consented to being led out of the room before even having time to say a word to Xan, who looked up from his book and regarded them with a raised eyebrow.

"Where are we going?" Anna said, surprised when Finn began leading her up a flight of stairs.

"You'll see," he said mysteriously.

He pushed open a trap-door and helped her onto the broad, flat wooden roof of the inn. The night was clear and dark with the sliver of moon lost in the uncountable stars that formed a perfect bowl overhead.

"Well?"

"Look," he said, and pointed upwards.

Anna caught a breath. In the northern sky a great curtain of green stretched across the expanse of stars, rippling softly as if caught in some celestial breeze.

"Nice, huh?" he said.

"It's beautiful!" Anna exclaimed. "I've heard of such lights in the north, but I've never seen them. I didn't think they appeared this far south."

"Me neither. Couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it."

"Shouldn't we tell the others? They'd like to see it as well," Anna suggested.

"Nah," he replied with a grin.

Anna smiled back and wandered over to the edge of the roof. She leaned up against the stone fortifications and watched the curtain of light flowing.

"How did you happen to see this, anyway?" Anna asked as Finn walked up behind her.

"Just getting a little air."

"You came all the way up here?"

"Reckoned there was more air up top," he said. Anna gave him a look. "Honestly, I can't seem to relax in a crowd anymore. I always feel like I have to watch my back."

"I'd imagine," Anna said quietly. "I would have thought you'd bring Safana up here, though, not me."

"She seemed otherwise engaged," Finn answered dryly.

"Oh. Coran?" Anna breathed.

"Lucky guess."

"I'm—sorry," she said.

"Don't be. I'm not."

Anna looked at him but quickly looked back to the north.

"Some might consider this a portent," she said, nodding at the lights.

"You'd have to ask a sage. What do you think?"

"I'm hardly a wise woman," Anna smiled. "I just think it's beautiful."

"Me, too."

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Anna didn't resist as his lips found hers, but she stood still as Finn lightly caressed her back, the soft touch of his lips mirroring the motion of his hands. It was a different kiss from their last in the tavern, gentle and warm but still insisting. Finn lightly parted her mouth and she leaned into him, her hands sliding up and around his neck. Only when his hands slid down below her waist did she pull back.

"Finn—" she said, low.

"Shh," he breathed into her hair, lightly kissing her face. "Don't pull away from me. Not this time."

He wrapped his arms around her again, softly brushing her neck with his mouth. Anna drew a breath and sunk her fingers into his hair, her lips meeting his once more.


	35. Assumptions

Reluctantly Anna broke off from Finn's kisses and slipped his hands off her waist.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she said, avoiding his gaze that was too intense for her comfort. "You and Safana—"

"It's over. It was hardly ever true love, anyway," he said, replacing his hands.

"No, but still. Have you—talked with her?"

"Haven't seen her in awhile," Finn replied, leaning in to her.

Anna put a finger on his mouth, holding him back.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Yeah, I know. Trust me, it's all taken care of."

"What?"

"Nothing," he said with a little grin.

"But what did—"

Finn pressed a finger of his own against her lips, replacing it with another kiss. After a time Anna broke off again.

"They'll be wondering where we are," she whispered.

"Let them. Everybody loves a mystery."

"I'm worried that there won't be much of one to work out," Anna said with a little laugh. "Finn—you won't…say anything to anyone, will you?"

"I thought you wanted me to talk with Safana?"

"I do, but—I just don't…"

For some reason she felt shy and slightly nervous about the idea of the others thinking of Finn and her as lovers, a feeling that couldn't entirely be explained by his current relationship.

"Why, you aren't ashamed of me, my lady?" Finn asked.

"Of course not!"

She looked up into his mirthful eyes and laughed slightly, brushing some hair away from his face.

"I just don't think we should say anything, not until everything is…resolved. It's all so soon, and I'm not sure how—appropriate it would be."

"I think I understand," Finn replied. "Don't worry about it. Now how about we go grab a drink?"

"No," Anna smiled. "Not for me. You go on."

"Maybe you're right," he said, giving her another quick kiss. "But at least let me, ah, walk you to the trap door?"

He made an exaggerated bow and they laughed together. Anna leaned her head against him as they walked, feeling the weight of his arm that draped across her shoulders. It was a pleasant feeling, she thought.

...

After they parted Anna slipped quietly back into the room, worried Xan might notice her flushed appearance or that others might have returned since she'd left. The room was empty save for the elf however, and he seemed engrossed with his studies and didn't look up.

Silently as possible she sat back upon the bed and opened her book. The heading _Incantation for the Enslavement of Men_ caught her eye and she swiftly turned the page, fate apparently playing a little joke at her expense.

She basked in the long-forgotten excitement of a new love, but something else, elusive, shifted around in her mind. A part of her tingled with happiness but another had a strange desire to run. Why shouldn't she be happy? Finn had shown her more than she expected in their time together and she felt a little guilt for underestimating him. Anna often found herself regretting pushing him away so completely that afternoon by the sea. Safana wasn't likely to be broken-hearted at the death of their relationship, perhaps she'd even be relieved. Her own interests were hardly subtle. But there was more to it than the thief, she knew. It was Finn himself. As attractive as she found him there were elements of his personality she found unsettling. And there was that day he healed her, never discussed since. She tried to dismiss her thoughts and focus on the good but they still pricked at her.

...

The next morning Anna awoke to the darkness of the chamber. She slipped out of bed while trying not to disturb Imoen though she knew a charging bugbear wouldn't likely rouse the girl before the sun was high. After dressing by touch she surprisingly found the door already unbarred as she slipped out into the morning.

Making her way to the hall she noticed Coran reclining in a chair, chatting amiably with a pretty chambermaid who tried and failed to keep up the pretence of sweeping. Anna hoped she could sneak past him but he noticed her and beckoned her over.

"A fair morning to you, dear Anna. I trust only pleasant dreams visited you last eve?" he said with a smile.

Perhaps it was her conscience but his expression seemed to have a slightly more knowing air than usual.

"I slept well, thank you." It wasn't entirely true but she had little desire to discuss the cause of her unrest with him.

"Marvellous. Ah, farewell, sweet maid," he said, regarding the young woman who departed swiftly, giving Anna a barely-concealed sour look.

"You've been…busy this morning," Anna said dryly.

"I have indeed!" Coran said, swinging his legs around and straddling the chair to face her. "I was approached by a most charming barbarian lady named Joia. Apparently a small horde of hobgoblins took the life of one most dear to her, and she would like assistance in enacting revenge on their hairy hides."

"That's horrible. But isn't that more a matter for the guards?"

"These guards rarely set foot outside the grounds without good reason, I am afraid," Coran replied.

"What better reason could there be than a group of murdering hobgoblins?" Anna exclaimed.

"Ah, but the victim in this case is of the equine variety, and the guards sadly do not consider a fair horse to be worth their trouble. But to this lady it is as though she lost a close friend. She would be willing to let us take whatever spoils the beasties might be hoarding, all she wants is revenge."

"You'll have to talk to Finn and the others, I suppose," Anna said. "I'm sorry the lady lost her horse, but personally I think it sounds dangerous and seeking revenge for an animal seems a bit foolish."

"Hobgoblins, _pfft!_ The lady did say there were no more than half a dozen. Besides, they may be part of the elusive bandits we are chasing, yes?"

"That's possible," Anna conceded.

"Indeed," he smiled. "But why are you standing there? Here, have a seat and I shall order more wine."

"A bit early for me," Anna replied. "I'll get some air, I think."

"As the lady wishes," Coran sighed. "But if you see the maid tell her she missed a spot, won't you?"

He chuckled and Anna walked on, shaking her head a little. She spent some time in the yard watching the merchants and their hirelings preparing the caravans, regarding the organised chaos of shouting, bustling men and whinnying horses with interest. They departed one after another, rattling over the drawbridge with a precision that could put armies to shame. Most turned to the north but a few went south down to Amn and countries beyond. Their absence left a strange quiet in the courtyard, punctuated only by the odd crowing of a cock. Anna sighed and looked out over the blue sky beyond the keep's walls, dotted here and there by the small, fluffy white clouds of summer. A fair day, meant for gardening or picnicking. She returned to the hall with the heavy thought that blood would likely be spilled that day, instead.

...

Sure enough she found the others except for Imoen and Safana talking with a tall, broad-shouldered woman with flame-coloured hair. The woman wore heavy layers of loose-fitting hides which made her seem even larger than she was. Finn looked up at Anna and smiled secretively when she approached. She smiled back but flushed and looked to the floor.

"This cannot go unpunished!" the woman whom Anna assumed must be Joia boomed. "The very thought that—that Thunder should fall to their cowardly hands—_grah!_"

She banged her fist hard against the table next to Khalid, making him jump.

"I feel for your loss," Jaheira said coolly. "But hobgoblins are not to be taken lightly, and I am concerned your anger may work against us should we decide to take your quest. Besides, there is no guarantee they are even still in the area."

"I am a barbarian, woman! My wrath has always served me well. Battle is not entered softly, you charge and trust the gods to guide your blade!" Joia said proudly. "The hobgoblins mentioned a cave, they must have a camp not far from where they attacked."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd need us at all," Finn said, amused by the woman's bravado.

She glared at him. "No. I have slain more than those beasts with my bare hands, but I am—weaker in battle now. Losing Thunder was a hard blow. It shames me, but I need aid, warriors." She looked to the floor then tossed her red braids in an odd way.

"You seem determined," Xan began cautiously, "But is the loss of your horse worth risking your own life? You say there were only a few monsters, but there may well be more in the forest."

"I thought your kind knew of the bond between people and their animals. Indeed, I thought it the only strength of your race," she said, Xan frowning in reply. "But I cannot leave this shame. Thunder was gifted to me by my parents after I came of age. Together we journeyed far from the north, facing dangers many. I cannot return home and face more questions of my family. He was my friend and I failed him. Will ye aid me?"

She looked at them and despite her size and coarse words Anna noticed that the woman's face seemed surprisingly young. Khalid and Jaheira glanced at each other, then looked at Finn.

"Well—alright," he said finally. "We're always hunting bandits, a few more won't hurt. Maybe _these _bastards could finally be the ones we're looking for. But let's eat first, I'm so hungry I could eat a—bear," he paused, glancing quickly at the woman who regarded him with a fearsome look.

...

They roused the two sleeping women who weren't pleased to be dragged out of bed to hunt hobgoblins. After a quick meal Joia had her axe taken the smithy to sharpen, and while they waited Xan spoke to Jaheira and Khalid.

"I do not mean to question your judgement, but are you certain of the safety of this quest?"

"It was my decision, in case you forgot," Finn said.

"Yes," Xan said with a sigh. "Regardless, I have concerns about that woman. Something—she did not seem entirely truthful to me. And with situations being as they are I wonder if following a stranger into the forest is the best idea."

"You think she could be a bounty hunter?" Imoen almost whispered.

"I do not know, but I would not be surprised if she were."

"I considered that possibility," Jaheira said. "But the potential benefits may outweigh the risks here. We've made less headway than I'd hoped in rooting out the true cause of these troubles. I agree with Xan, though, there was something—never mind."

The druid shook her head slightly. Finn frowned.

"You might be right, but we can't walk around treating everyone like an enemy all the time. I think she seems a bit off her nut, but a bounty hunter?" He sighed. "We'll go, but everyone stay double sharp."

...

Joia returned and after gathering their own weapons the party followed her as she boldly set off down a faint trail that headed northwest from the inn. Soon the close trees erased the tower from view and Anna kept her eyes on the forest, alert for signs of an ambush.

"What were you doing out here, anyway?" Imoen said to Joia. The girl's tone seemed casual but she regarded the barbarian a bit sharply.

"Hunting, girl, what do ye think? I cannot stand all the spices they use to cook here, it turns my stomach."

"Yeah, yummy," Imoen muttered in reply. She quickened her steps and walked next to Finn.

Joia said nothing else to the group, instead marching forward with a grim face as if late for an appointment.

...

"We are near the spot where the beasts attacked," she said after a time.

"Aye, I see their tracks, and the hoof-marks of a horse," Coran replied. "They led it into the forest to the west. But I see no sign of battle. Were you knocked off your mount?"

"Does that matter?" Joia bristled. "They took him west. Let us follow."

"You were f-fortunate indeed, to escape the g-goblins on foot, and without a b-battle," Khalid said. He spoke quietly but eyed the woman suspiciously.

Jaheira took her husband's cue. "Very fortunate. Your feet must be swift."

A black look came over Joia's face but she shook her head again.

"I run like a deer, woman. Come, our quarry is not far."

"They might be miles away by now," Safana said. "How can you know they are near?"

"It was a guess. Why do you taunt me? Come, now! We have wasted time enough."

She stepped into the woods but none followed her. She stopped and turned back in anger.

"Do I need to draw weapons myself?" she challenged them, putting her hand on the double-bladed axe she wore on her belt.

"What's this? I swear, lady, if you've set us up…" Finn growled.

"She's a bounty hunter!" Imoen cried. "I knew it! She's led us out here to jump us!"

"Bounty hunter?" Joia exclaimed. "Are you mad? Why would you think such a thing?"

"I'll bet you've got a little piece of parchment that tells you all about it," Finn said, his hand also sliding to his blade. "The other corpses all had them."

Joia stared at him. "I have honour, and you insult it!" she said fiercely. "This is no trap. If I wished to kill you I would fight in honest battle, not hide in the shadows like a coward!"

Her eyes flashed and she reached again for her axe, the party likewise grabbing at their weapons. Jaheira though held out a hand.

"Stop! There need not be blood spilled here. If you are not a bounty hunter, then tell us the truth. It is plain now your original story is a falsehood."

Joia glared at them, but slowly lowered her hand.

"Very well. Thunder was not taken from me. I—I let the beasts lead him away."

"Why?" Anna asked.

"They surrounded us on the trail. There were too many to fight, and we could not get free. They said if I gave them Thunder they would let me pass. So did I give them my only companion." She looked down at the trail. "Now ye know my shame. I returned to the inn but the crime tore at me, and I could only think of revenge. I ask again, aid me!"

"If that is true then you are truly fate's favoured child," Xan said. "It is remarkable the beasts let you go when they could have killed you as easily."

"I feel it. Never have I known hobgoblins to behave so. But I must have my horse back! It is a matter of pride, and mine is soiled enough."

Safana groaned. "Is that all this is for? Revenge for a dumb animal you gave away freely? That is not revenge. You made a bad deal and you must live with it. Come, let us get back to the inn."

"Thunder is not a dumb animal!" the woman roared. "You be cowards to leave. We might still have a chance to save him! The cave they spoke of must be near."

"A cave, a cave. Why is there always a cave?" Xan muttered to himself.

"There could be any number in that camp," Anna worried.

"But we will have the element of surprise," Coran replied.

"And so might they," Safana said. "They ambushed this woman, why not us?"

"We c-came this far expecting an ambush. With apologies, we aren't t-truly seeking the horse, anyway," Khalid said.

"Yes, there are more important matters at stake," Jaheira responded.

"Alright, alright!" Finn said, interrupting them all. "We'll track them for a ways, if we don't find anything after a few miles we'll call it off. The horse isn't here nor there for me, but if there's a chance they might know something about the bandits it'll be worth it. Come on, and let's be quiet about it, hey?"

...

After a few muttered comments the party set off after Coran. Anna felt less and less secure about their quest. How desperate was their situation that they needed to chase after every hobgoblin in the area in hopes they might hold a clue to the bandits' whereabouts? Grimly though she knew the answer. Jaheira and Khalid had made enquiries at the inn to no avail, the Mirrorshade's connections coming up empty-handed. As she tried to push silently through the undergrowth she wondered if the long-gone Kivan had any more success than they in finding their quarry.

Eventually Coran signalled caution and they crept forward slowly. Anna began to hear the sounds of rough laughter and talk. Finn signed for the group to split up, and Anna followed behind him as they made their way up to a small clearing. Through the trees she saw several hobgoblins lounging about, eating. Smoke seemed to be rising from the ground though she couldn't see any fire, and her nose prickled with a strange odour. Finn looked back at her, and she gave him a nervous little smile. He brushed her arm gently, then drew his sword and stepped into the clearing.

They surrounded the hobgoblins in a neat circle. When the party stepped from the trees the hobgoblins shouted and leapt to their feet, but Jaheira cried out to them.

"Hold! Make any move towards your weapons and you will die. We have come to parlay."

"What you mean—talk? Fancy talk? We not talk with you, human!" the largest of the hobgoblins said.

"Talk or our archers let their arrows loose," she replied.

The hobgoblins looked around at the bows trained on them and the mages with hands poised, and muttered together in their language.

"We talk, human," the leader growled.

"We have come for Thunder!" Joia said.

"What? Thunder in sky, crazy human. Wait—you human from last turn. What you want? We let you go!"

"The horse! Give me back my horse, monster!"

A round of laughter burst out from the hobgoblins.

"You want horse? Sure, human, it here. Take it!"

He tossed a large bone half-covered with cooked flesh at Joia's feet. The woman stared at it, her eyes open wide in realisation.

"Oh, _ew!"_ Imoen said from behind her bow.

"The rest of him down there," the leader said, gesturing at a crack in the ground from where the smoke issued. "And in our bellies. You wait, you can get that back too!"

Another round of laughter sprung up. Joia shouted and moved on the hobgoblin, but Khalid held her back.

"You ate Thunder? Beasts! I'll have him from your bellies, I will!"

The hobgoblins shifted and Jaheira cried out again for them to stop.

"You have one chance to save your lives. We wish to know more about the bandits in this region. Where is their camp?"

"How we know? We stay away from bandits. Hobgoblins here enemy tribe—we see, we kill," the leader replied.

"Then why are you here?" Finn asked.

"We go through woods like humans. Tribe has meeting next big moon. Many boasts and fights to pick new chief, good party. Good food and women. We not bandits, we fight bandits."

"But you robbed this woman," Jaheira said.

"Horse good eating," the hobgoblin sneered. "Woman we let go—many men and soldiers near. We not stupid. Woman kill, they track us. We not afraid, but we few. Lost good fighters many sky-turns ago fighting stinking gnolls."

Anna slowly lowered her hands. She knew little of hobgoblins but she didn't think them intelligent enough to lie convincingly, and their words had the ring of truth.

"You want fight now, humans? We fight you, glad to fight," their leader growled.

The party all stood stiffly. Khalid kept a tight grip on the woman and Joia stood quietly, her eyes snapping. Finn looked at Jaheira and Khalid, then back at the hobgoblins. His brow furrowed but he let out a sigh.

"No. Get out of here, now, before we change our minds and stick your heads on pikes to decorate the inn."

"What?" Joia cried. "We must—they _ate_ my horse! I cannot—"

Suddenly she groaned and leaned over, clutching at her stomach. Jaheira looked at her sharply.

"We are leaving. Follow us and it will be to your death," she said to the hobgoblins.

...

She took Joia by the arm and the party followed, Coran slipping in back to watch for signs of attack. None came, and after they'd gone a distance Jaheira spoke sternly to the barbarian.

"You truly must be mad, seeking to fight when you are with child! How far along are you?"

"It is not my time," Joia hissed in return, throwing off the druid's arm. "I am fine, the child just kicked me. Judging his mother's weakness! Now you see why Thunder was so dear to me. Not only was he my loyal friend, I needed him to return home before the child comes. I have little gold and no other way except my own feet."

"What about the, um, father?" Imoen asked.

"He—fell. He was an adventurer, brave and strong. When I learned of the child he said he would return with me to my home in the north. He went on one last quest to earn gold but—he did not return. His companions said he died bravely, speaking my name on his lips."

She tossed her head in that way again, making Anna wonder if she wasn't elaborating the truth once more. She sighed and felt pity for the young woman, regardless.

...

Slowly the party made their way back to the Friendly Arm. Anna went with Jaheira to deliver Joia into the temple's care to ensure her repeated protests of robust health were true.

"Don't think she'd last to make it home," Gellena said to them after examining the woman. "By Garl! The world'll be in a spot if that babe's half as stubborn as she," the gnome chuckled.

"Will she be all right?" Anna asked.

"Oh, yes. She's a strong one. I'm just worried she'll get it into her head to take off again. Though maybe there'll be a place opening up in the guards soon, eh? Might convince her to stick around," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"I'm thankful you're here to see to her, Gellena," Jaheira said. "There are not many who would take a foolish lost child in so wholeheartedly."

"Pshaw! Half them here are foundlings from somewhere or other. Young and old, they all end up on our doorstep somehow. Just a bit o' simple kindness, is all. Now you lasses scoot, I hear tell there's rose pudding on offer tonight."

The gnome laughed and shooed them on with a wave of her short, gold-robed arms. Anna and Jaheira shared an amused look at Gellena's mothering and headed off towards the inn.

...

Some hours later Anna savoured the last bite of said pudding, chasing up the final bit of dried fruit with her spoon. Only Finn and Imoen were with her at table. Coran pulled Safana off somewhere on a pretence so feeble Anna couldn't remember it. Safana made some excuse to Finn but he paid little heed as the pair hurried off, and any guilt Anna had about coming between the her and Finn was fairly quashed. Even considering their weak relationship though the openness with which the pair departed rather surprised her. Khalid and Jaheira had declared an early night and departed to the chamber, unwittingly robbing Xan of his usual chance to disappear from the company. He went instead to a corner chair where he sat with his head bowed over some book, lost to the activity of the room around him.

After a while Anna noticed that a trio of elves had joined him with a flagon of wine. She wondered at first if they were Greycloaks as well although their merry faces and frequent laughter somehow made her think not. Xan seemed to be doing little talking for what seemed to be a great effort by the other elves to engage him in conversation. It surprised her but she remembered Coran's initial reaction to his moonblade and thought perhaps these elves might be star-struck as well. Regarding them together she noted how different Xan seemed from his kin; in a race noted for their levity he stuck out like a sore thumb.

"I'm going up there," Imoen suddenly announced.

"Where?" Anna asked.

"There!"

She pointed and Anna looked quickly at the house minstrels who were merrily bashing their way through the latest popular tune.

"Any requests?" Imoen asked Finn and her.

"Yeah, keep off the stage!" Finn teased. Imoen gave him a cheery smack in return.

"I can't think of anything," Anna laughed.

"Okay, I'll be back! Don't let the barmaid take my mug," the girl said, rising from the table.

...

"Alone at last," Finn said.

His hands reached across the table and slid over Anna's. She smiled at him but gently pulled away.

"You didn't seem to mind my hands last night," he said with a grin.

Anna tried to give him a dirty look.

"It's all right, you know," Finn said, more seriously.

"I know," she replied.

Finn slid around onto the bench next to her, reaching under the table and taking her hand in his again.

"That's better," he said. Anna smiled and gave his hand a squeeze.

Finn began to speak but suddenly Anna's mouth opened.

"Oh, Chauntea—what is she doing?"

She pointed at Imoen who'd joined the minstrels on the low stage. She stood next to a handsome, artfully unkempt-looking young man with a guitar, boldly singing duet to a tune that Anna had heard coming out of some of the taverns in Beregost.

"Oh…dear," Anna laughed as the song went on, Imoen's sprightly performance earning cheers from the crowd.

"Hey, she's pretty good," Finn said, laughing.

"It doesn't bother you?" Anna asked.

"Nah. Not as long as that fellow keeps his hands on his guitar!"

He laughed again and drew his free arm around Anna's shoulders. She smiled up at him and cheered Imoen on with the others.

The song finished and Imoen curtseyed into the applause, hurrying back to the table while waving a hand at requests for her to continue.

"Well, well, songbird," Finn teased, slipping his arm off Anna.

"Yeah, yeah," Imoen panted happily. "I think they liked me!"

"I didn't know you could sing," Anna said.

"I'm a woman of many talents, you know."

The three laughed together and Imoen thirstily drained her mug of ale.

...

"Say, that was some purty singing. Any chance of a private show?"

Anna stiffened hearing a familiar voice behind her. She looked with disgust as the halfling from the previous night slid onto the bench beside Imoen.

"Gods, no," the girl said, moving away from him.

"Touch her and I'll break your hands, dwarf," Finn said brutally.

Anna looked at him in surprise, thinking his words harsh even considering the halfling's sleazy comment.

"I told you before, I'm not a dwarf, fella," the halfling sneered back.

"Dwarf, halfling—the difference can only be measured in inches," a rich, aristocratic voice intoned.

Anna looked up in surprise again as a wizard with fine emerald robes sat himself next to her.

"What do you two want?" Imoen said, giving the leering halfling a dirty look.

"You know them?" Anna asked Finn.

She had a difficult time imagining the coarse halfling and the noble-looking wizard as having anything to do with one another, let alone her companions.

"Unfortunately. We met them on the road out of the keep—" he began, but the halfling interrupted him.

"Yeah. Nice enough to give two lost kiddies food and shelter from the pissing rain we were, and how do they repay us? By running off_, _with some o' our potions, no less! No manners at all."

"Indeed, and it was such a simple task we asked in return," the wizard said. "To accompany us to Nashkel and stop the killer chickens."

"_Er,_ what?" Anna said, looking at the wizard who spoke with all seriousness. He'd sat closer to her than she'd like and she inched over slightly, her hand lightly grazing his robe.

_"Stop touching me!"_ he shrieked into her ear, making Anna nearly jump out of her skin.

"Feck's sake, how'd I get saddled with this nutter?" the halfling muttered. "Here we go again. Here, you bastard—drink it!"

He handed the wizard a vial of oddly-coloured liquid but he brushed it away.

"_No! They'll get me!_ _Cobras! Cobras!_"

He began randomly smacking the table, striking at invisible snakes.

"Drink it or I'll slit yer throat and pour it in! Yer embarrassing me, ya mad feck."

The halfling climbed onto the table and practically shoved the bottle into the flailing wizard's mouth as the three looked on in shock. The wizard shuddered and relaxed.

"_I_—oh," he said, speaking once again in his calm, noble tones. "What was it this time, Montaron?"

"The cobras," the halfling replied with a grimace.

"Indeed? How fascinating. I really must find that particular repressed memory. But in the meantime—" he cleared his throat and straightened his robe collar. "Your companions and I have met before, but I do not believe you and I have been properly introduced," he said to Anna. "Have we, Monty? No, I did not think so. I am Xzar Azrael, and this charming fellow is my dear companion, Montaron. I do hope he's behaved himself while I was away."

"Aye," Montaron glared at him.

"Excellent. And your name, my dear?"

"Anna," she replied, staring at the wizard as though she expected him to snap again.

"Lovely. Now that we are all friends, shall we discuss a bit of business?"

"We don't have anything to discuss with you," Finn said.

"Nonsense. I hope you aren't letting a few little past misunderstandings get in the way of the present, are you? Besides, I think you will find we have a great deal of interest to say."

He reached into his robe, pulling out a tightly curled piece of paper and gingerly unrolling it onto the table. Finn stiffened when he saw it.

"You looking to earn some coin?" he said low, eyes fixed on the wizard with a quiet menace.

"Oh, no. Relax, dear boy, you are quite safe. I have little interest in this paltry sum, even if the idea of playing bounty hunter remotely amused me. But a good many things have come to our attention since we parted, and I feel we may be in even more a position to benefit one another than before."

The wizard replaced the bounty notice and Anna turned to Finn.

"What's he talking about?"

"Ah, yes. Allow me to share the details. You see, Montaron and I, in our own quiet little way were investigating the troubles in this region. Certain…friends of ours were greatly concerned about the rumours surrounding this unfortunate situation and asked us politely to go to Nashkel and discover what we could. We chanced upon your friends on the road, and Monty and I both agreed that two such charming young people would make excellent and welcome travelling companions to a pair of weary old fellows such as ourselves. Unfortunately, they did not wish to share our company. We held them no grudge of course, but continued on our way—"

"'Continued on our way'?" Montaron barked. "That's rich. You went nuts and ran off into the woods, took me a fortnight to find ye. I'd have left you to the wolves but it'd be my neck on the line—"

Xzar cleared his throat. "Monty, please, I am speaking. As I said, by the time we arrived in Nashkel we learned that these young people and their new companions had discovered the source of the troubles for us, or so we thought."

"Yeah," Monty sneered. "Dead half-orc. Nice job you did there. Thorough."

"But Montaron and I have friends of our own, and through them we learned that there was more to this crisis than met the eye. So we pursued our own lines of enquiry, with interesting results."

"You mean, I did. I was the one busting kneecaps, you were just out running around, howling like a banshee!"

"Please, Montaron—it is very rude to interrupt. We discovered to our surprise that the very young man we offered shelter was in fact tied into this mystery, which piqued our interest even more. Naturally we were terribly concerned about our young friend so we looked into that as well—"

"Yeah," Montaron said thoughtfully. "I had to hack off a few bits for that one."

"Monty, I grow tired of repeating myself _so be silent before I thrust my hand into your filthy chest and rip out your heart!_"

His smooth voice stayed quiet but his tone so vibrated with palpable violence that even the halfling seemed taken aback.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"What? Oh, have I done it again? I'm so sorry, Monty! Forgive me, won't you?" the wizard whined. "You know I can't bear to have you angry with me—"

"Alright, alright," Montaron said. "Just get on with it, won't ya?"

"Yes. Forgive me, friends, and pay no attention to my little outbursts. I'm so thankful that Monty here looks after me, without him I really would be all at sea. I shall do as he says and come to the point. We have located the one who put this burden on your young shoulders, and indeed who has perpetrated this entire wave of crime."

"You mean—you found…?" Finn leaned in, hesitating at the last.

"Tazok. That is his name, isn't it Monty? Yes, Tazok the Half-Ogre, strong-armed deserter of the Sythillisian Army, turned to robbery and cold murder on independent terms. He is trying to establish himself as a power on this coast, and we have discovered his whereabouts. We would remove this menace once and for all, but alas, we are only two. But if we had aid…we could penetrate his camp, and deal with him in a final manner. What say you, friends?"

He smiled a strange, twisted smile. It was meant to be friendly but it reminded Anna of a grinning crocodile. She glanced at Finn and Imoen who returned her look of surprise and confusion.

Finn let out a breath. "Right then. Let's hear what you've got."


	36. Menace

"Of course, my dear boy," Xzar said, still smiling that strange smile. "But this is not the place to discuss such important matters. Why don't you and these fine young ladies join Montaron and I in our chambers for a nightcap?"

Finn scowled and Imoen made an almost frightened look, leaving Anna to wonder what exactly happened the last time they met the odd pair.

"Fine," Finn said. "But there better not be any funny business."

"Oh, you needn't fear. I daresay we need you as much as you currently need us. Now shall we?"

Xzar rose up from the table and offered Anna his arm.

"No, thank you…Finn, don't you think we should round up the others, first?" she said, clearing her throat a little.

"Less you're thinking of throwing a party there's no need for that, sweetie," Montaron said condescendingly. "We'll behave."

"All the same…Finn?"

"Well, go let Xan know what's up, anyway. We'll fill the others in later."

Despite his obvious distrust of the pair Finn seemed to almost shake with excitement since Xzar mentioned Tazok's name, and Anna reckoned it was all he could do to keep from interrogating the wizard on the spot. She worried that his eagerness might interfere with his judgement and considered calling Khalid and Jaheira, but hurried instead across the crowded hall to where Xan sat with his admirers.

...

Pulling him aside she explained the situation quickly, her rather breathless story earning looks of surprise then suspicion from the elf.

"And he never said who he was working for? It does seem terribly convenient that they would appear at the inn with this information. A mad wizard and his loathsome companion…I don't care for this," Xan said finally.

"Neither do I, but we don't have much choice, do we?"

"No," he sighed. "But that is the story of my life. Come, let's go."

"I don't know…maybe it would be best if you stayed here in case anything—odd happens."

Xan sighed again. "If anything untoward does occur you might just need me. I have been dealing with 'odd' situations for considerably longer than any of you have been alive, I'm sorry to say. But just in case—"

He shut his eyes and began mouthing an incantation. A soft white light suddenly danced around him and disappeared again.

"Silence is a greater threat to spellcasters than arrows," he said.

"I know," Anna replied grimly. Xan looked at her expectantly but in spite of her experience with the bandits she didn't have a spell of vocalisation memorised.

"Come, they are watching us," he said shortly.

...

They rejoined the others and after a brief introduction they followed Xzar and Montaron up the stone stairs. Anna feared the halfling might have some other comment for Xan but thankfully nothing more than a smirk and an icy glare passed between the two.

Entering their chambers Anna tried to contain her surprise; she knew the Friendly Arm had a few high-quality quarters but wasn't expecting a suite of the palatial standard that greeted them. Heavy tapestries depicting a grand hunt hung from the stone walls and through a door she saw a room dominated by a massive, curtained mahogany bed. Anna paused walking past a tapestry, regarding a young prince on horseback with blond locks flowing around his noble face. Despite the craftsmanship she noticed it was slightly threadbare. Xzar directed them to a pair of brocade couches arranged around a marble fireplace, and settling onto the softness Anna felt the tightness of the party's quarters even more.

Xzar took up a crystal decanter from a sideboard and poured generous helpings of brandy for the group. Anna took a snifter but quietly set it aside after Xan declined a drink.

"Dear me, do _Tel'Mitholrim_ have prohibitions on their agents taking refreshment whilst on duty?" Xzar said to him with that crooked smile, Xan stiffening more at his words.

"Perhaps you should proceed with your information," the elf said.

"Yes, let's get business out of the way. As I was saying to our young friends earlier, Montaron and I have finally managed to pin down the elusive Tazok. We encountered a rather roguish group of bandits on the road some days ago; unfortunately they did not realise that we had been looking for them and rudely tried to remove our possessions. In the end we managed to extract the secret of their brutish commander's location, but not without a little _cajoling_ on our part, I'm afraid."

Montaron laughed heartily over his glass.

"Yeah! Still remember their looks when ye said you were gonna pickle their hearts and big toes! Reckon they thought you were a bit off, but they figured it out, didn't they?"

"Oh, Monty, there's no need to share our trade secrets with our guests. You're exaggerating anyway—I only needed the toenails. But I digress," Xzar said, looking at the party's faces which seemed like they couldn't decide if the pair were joking or not. Anna squirmed on the sofa, not much caring for the wizard's disturbed grin.

"Yes, we have found his encampment," Xzar continued. "He travels with a small but highly trained group of ruffians, relocating to different spots in the wilderness about once a tenday. His movements appear random which is why he has previously been so difficult to track down, but he is in fact travelling by a pre-arranged mathematical pattern of surprising complexity. It enables him to move whilst allowing those who need to know to find him when necessary. Very clever for an ogre. Quite clever, indeed," he added thoughtfully.

"If Tazok was in Sythsillis' army that'd explain a few things," Finn remarked. "These bandits have been run like a military campaign, all right. But what's his plan? He must know he can't keep this up forever. And it seems like he's been doing all he can to drive Baldur's Gate and Amn into war with each other."

"I would not pry too deeply into the motives of ogres bent on destruction, my boy. He plainly seeks to carve out a niche for himself, and one would suppose that driving the major powers of the region into a hopeless war could only benefit him. With the nations exhausted he could easily take power with that rabble army of his. They are quite adept at hiding, as you have noticed. They could take to the hills and emerge when the moment was right to strike the final blow."

"It must have been quite dangerous for you, doing all these investigations on your own," Anna said, trying to sound casual. "You must have backing, surely. Who sent you?"

Montaron sniggered. "We've got some philanthropic friends, sweetheart. Let's leave it at that, eh?"

Xzar spoke up. "Yes, my dear, our backers would prefer to remain anonymous. It is not truly important anyway, is it? They have the region's interests at heart, I assure you."

Anna frowned a little, thinking she'd heard that line from another mad wizard not long ago. Xan however seemed to pick up the thread.

"This is all very interesting," he said, his words so level and quiet that Anna wasn't even sure if she'd heard him speak. "But I would like to know more. There is so much more to learn."

Though Anna realised what the elf was doing she still began to feel the warmth of the fire creeping up in a pleasant way and she sat very still, listening as he continued talking in a mellow voice. Montaron stared into space, his face turning strangely soft. Xzar sat looking at the floor, his tented fingers pressed against his lips as he giggled slightly to himself.

...

"Tell me, who has summoned you here?" Xan asked finally.

Montaron opened his mouth, his eyes blank.

"We're based in the Gate. We—"

With a smooth motion Xzar laid a hand on the halfling's ear and gave the tip a cruel pinch. He squalled and swatted at the wizard in surprise.

"_Tut, tut_," Xzar said, wagging a finger at Xan like he was reprimanding a schoolboy. "I trust we all want to remain friends here. I appreciate the initiative, but no more mind tricks if you please."

Montaron rubbed his ear, looking at the wizard in shock. The import of his words hit him and swift as light he drew the stiletto from his jerkin, sliding off the sofa onto his feet.

"_You fecking pansy_—_I'm gonna turn you into a woman for real! Nobody fucks around with my head—"_

The group shifted and Xan tensed to spring but Xzar barked a spell. His hand glowed with a cold blue light and he pressed it against his companion. The halfling let out a pitiable yelp and shrivelled to the floor like a swatted fly, struggling to rise from his knees. The party jumped up and backed away from the wizard but he spoke calmly as if one of them had upset a goblet of wine on the carpet.

"Now, now. No cause for concern. Come, Monty, you will be fine."

He lifted the halfling to his feet and set him back on the sofa like a child.

"Fecking pansy elf," he blubbered. "Fecking wizards. I hate wizards. I'll gut the lot of you!"

"Yes, of course you will, dear Monty," the wizard soothed. "Come, my friends, please sit back down. It is quite all right."

The group looked at one another with nervous disgust but carefully retook their places on the sofas.

"Don't worry about Montaron," Xzar continued. "He can have an occasional bout of temper but he recovers just as swiftly." The halfling aimed a kick at his robe but he ignored it. "Now, I—heavens, what is it we were talking about? The weather?"

"I think you were going to tell me where my bounty comes into this mess," Finn said grimly.

"Were we? Monty? Ah, you're sulking. Well, I must have told you then that I am not _quite_ ready to reveal that information. Indeed, I need to make a few final enquiries myself. But if my theories are correct then it is something, truly something," the middle-aged wizard giggled.

"Tell me now," Finn growled.

"Patience, my dear boy. Help us defeat this Tazok and I shall tell you more."

"Listen, you," Finn said, raising himself up off the sofa. "These sons of bitches killed my father, and they've been trying their best to do the same to me. Tell me!"

"Oh, Tazok had less to do with your father's death than you think," Xzar continued, his eyes lighting in a strange way. "Many children have died, but many more remain. So many, so many…little babes lost from their cradles, following breadcrumbs through the woods…_A tisket, a tasket, Mister Owl, have you seen my little basket? How many licks? I'll never tell!"_

His pitch raised and he continued bubbling nonsense to himself. Anna looked at Finn, who glared at the mad wizard with narrow eyes. Before he could say anything a light rap sounded on the door.

"Brilliant—you've got some timing, ain't ya?" Monty said to Xzar, snapping out of his own mood. "Maybe I ought to lock you in the cupboard, eh? Be safer all around."

Monty shook his head and tried to feed Xzar his medicine as though he were a cranky child. The knock sounded again.

"Get that, won't ya?" the halfling called over.

Anna looked at the others and went to open the door. Waiting there were two young women, one of whom Anna recognised as the girl from the bath house.

"Sorry we're late," she said. "Becky had frock troubles."

"Oh, tell them, why don't you?" the other girl exclaimed, adjusting her plain green dress.

"What do we care?" Monty said, finally managing to force-feed the wizard. "Ye can wear a potato sack for all it matters, love."

"Now, Monty," Xzar said, regaining his composure once more. "Why don't you offer the young women a drink? Forgive me, friends, was our business concluded for the evening? I think so. Do we have a deal then, my young friend?"

He regarded Finn, who gave him a hard look then let out a sigh.

"Fine. We'll help you."

"Wonderful!" Xzar exclaimed. "You are of course invited to stay if you wish—Montaron and I always like more company."

"Yeah, you said," Finn replied, looking at the wizard with disgust. "I think we're done here."

"Are they leaving?" the bath house girl said, looking at Finn and Xan and sounding disappointed.

"Why, ain't we good enough for ya?" Montaron scowled.

"I didn't mean that…" she stammered.

"Then keep your yap shut."

"Monty! Really, there is no call for that. Sit down, my dears, and make yourselves comfortable."

The young women cautiously sat down near Xzar. Montaron cackled.

"Ha! Ye'd be safer sitting next to me, girls. But you'll find out, you'll find out."

"What's he mean?" Becky asked her friend.

"I mean, it's best to keep warm, eh, lovely? Don't want him to get too excited."

"Montaron! Really, you are too much."

"If you say so," Monty said, pursing his lips.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Finn said. Anna was all too happy to follow him out the door.

"Knock us up tomorrow. Not too early, mind—I need my beauty sleep," Montaron laughed as the group hurried away, leaving the uncomfortable-looking young women looking after them.

...

"Do you think we ought to leave them in there?" Anna asked as they found the stairs.

"The women? Unfortunately, they are not our responsibility," Xan sighed. "I recall that one girl rather casually offering me some—shall we say, private entertainment the last time I stayed. Hardly an innocent, though one would hope she had more sense than to accommodate those two."

"What's wrong with that guy, anyway?" Imoen asked. "He has a whole flock of bats in his belfry."

"I would guess that he was exposed to powerful magical energies which have left him mentally unstable. Magic can have as ill effect on the caster as on an enemy, something you would do well to remember," Xan said. "I have seen such cases in the past, mainly amongst human wizards who seem to have less appreciation for the consequences of spellcasting than my kin."

"Speaking of which, do you think you could be a little more subtle with the enchanter stuff next time? That little freak was about three inches from sticking you like a pig," Finn remarked.

Xan frowned. "Yes, I—hadn't expected the wizard to be so disciplined. That charm should have worked."

"Anyway, what I really want to know is what he was babbling about Gorion," Finn said. "What was he on about—all the other children? Gorion didn't have any kids, just Imoen and me."

"Well, if he did it's not like we'd know about it," Imoen said matter-of-factly. "What did he ever tell us, really? He could have a dozen kids somewhere for all we know."

"Didn't Gorion ever tell you where you came from?" Anna asked.

"Nope. Imoen's from the north, but all he ever said about me was he took me out of a foundling's home in Baldur's Gate. I could be from anywhere, I suppose. It bugged me, but growing up with monks you sort of learn that there are some questions which just aren't going to get an answer."

...

Finn retreated into his thoughts and they returned to the hall in silence. It was emptier than before and they found Coran and Safana sitting together at a corner table.

"There you are!" Coran said with a cough. "We were thinking you'd all run off and left us on our lonesome."

"Yeah, you'd hate that, wouldn't you?" Finn remarked, but fell silent again.

"We were watching the extraordinary lights in the sky," Safana said by way of excuse. "Most remarkable they are."

"Oh, yes, we saw them last night," Anna said without thinking. Safana smiled at her.

"I heard something to that effect, yes," she purred.

Anna glanced at her, her face turning a bit red. Could she know?

"So, what have you been up to? Your faces lend me to believe it hasn't been pleasant," Coran said, casually leaning his chair perilously far back.

They sat down and Xan related the tale. Coran let his chair legs hit the floor again with a sharp clump.

"Tazok? Well, well! Perhaps now we can finally see this tedious business done with. A pity our kinsman left us so soon, eh?"

"Yes," Xan said thoughtfully. "I must admit, though I have grave concerns about this quest the thought that we might finally destroy this beast and I might actually complete my mission is a comforting one. Although I cannot see how we can possibly win."

He shook his head and Coran grinned.

"Trust in lady luck, _Heruamin_."

"I'm afraid she is not such a friend to me as she seems to be to you," Xan said with a frown.

"Ah, but you are here, are you not? Perhaps fortune favours you more than you think." He grinned again and Xan gave him another look. "But if we are to die tomorrow, I propose we spend the rest of the evening making merry. Come, let us have more wine! My treat."

None of the others seemed particularly interested in merrymaking and his offer met with a lukewarm response. Anna noticed in particular that Safana's mirth disappeared the moment Tazok's name was mentioned, and she sat with a furrowed brow and tight mouth.

"Oh dear," she said, deliberately touching her jacket pockets. "I believe I dropped my mirror outside. How dreadfully clumsy of me! Won't you come with me and help me find it? Your eyes can see in the dark."

She looked at Coran and he cocked his head slightly, but rose and followed her quick steps out of the hall. The others exchanged glances but didn't comment.

"Well, there's no guarantee we'll be fighting anyone soon," Finn said. "This guy could still just be out of his mind."

"Mad though he is, I believe his information is genuine," Xan sighed.

The little group fell silent again, each left to their own thoughts.

"I'm going up to the roof," Finn said suddenly. "I need some air."

"I'll go with you," Imoen piped up.

Finn looked at her, then at Anna.

"Suit yourself," he replied flatly.

The pair departed with Imoen chatting in earnest after her silent brother. Xan let out a long breath.

"If we are to battle we should see to our spells. Tazok will be well-guarded, and we must be prepared."

"Do you think we'll find him?" Anna asked.

"I'm afraid it seems we will," he said, rising. He paused resting his hands on the table. "It is miraculous that we made it this far, but how can we ever hope to succeed?"

"Xan—don't. Not now," Anna said, rather sharply.

"What? The odds are enormously against us, pretending otherwise won't lead us to victory. I am only stating the facts."

"Some facts don't need stating," she replied dryly. "Why do you even bother to study if you feel so? Let's do what Coran suggested and get blazing drunk."

"I'm assuming that was a jest," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Regardless, we may prepare for battle and still die, but if we aren't prepared we are certain to meet our end. I shall fetch our spellbooks."

The elf hurried off towards the chamber, and Anna let out a sigh and rested her head on the table.

...

The common room was quiet enough for study but Anna found it hard to focus, instead leaning her hand on her fist, staring at the pages until the words ran together. Coran and Safana didn't return leaving Anna to wonder what was on the thief's mind. She clearly hadn't lost her mirror any more than Anna had, but then she didn't want to put too much thought into what the pair were doing. She thought too about Finn and wished she could join him on the roof, though she could hardly talk with Imoen there. It was a strange situation, a lover that she had to keep secret. Had? It was her own choice. She was wondering how long the pretence would stand when she glanced up, startled by the sound of rapid footsteps. With surprise she saw Imoen hurrying up to the table, her face nearly as red as her hair.

"Imoen, what—" Anna began.

_"I can't believe you told him!"_ the girl screeched at her, her words echoing through the empty hall.

"Told what?" Anna said, taken aback.

"You didn't have any right!" she screeched again. "I thought I could trust you. Why did you tell him those things?"

She made a couple of quick steps towards Anna and she leaned back in her chair, almost thinking the red-faced girl was about to strike her.

"Imoen, child—restrain yourself!" Xan said, clearly as surprised as Anna.

"You shut up! I'm not talking to you!" Imoen blurted.

The girl balled up her fists and shut her eyes. The mages looked at each other but said nothing. Tears came over Imoen's face and she turned and ran out of the hall. Anna's mouth hung open, wondering what could possibly have made her so upset. Suddenly though the realisation hit her and she felt a strange chill wash over.

"What in heaven was she shouting about?" Xan asked.

"Nothing—I'd better go after her," Anna said, hurrying away. The last thing she wanted was to relate to the elf the girl's story about Finn's madness.

...

Anna ran out of the hall into the cool night air. She looked around swiftly, wondering where Imoen disappeared to. The courtyard was lit by torches and she managed to catch a glimpse of the girl vanishing behind a stable.

She found her sitting beside a rain-barrel, her head drawn to her knees.

"Imoen…"

"Go away!"

Anna went and sat nervously next to her.

"I think I know what this is about," she began. "I'm sorry I told him. But I was worried about Finn's behaviour, the same as you."

"Yeah, well, let me worry about that! It's not your business anyway."

Anna sighed. The girl drew a series of deep, rapid breaths and she raised her head, her face wet with tears. She said nothing as the girl continued sobbing into her handkerchief.

"I liked him," Imoen choked finally.

"Who?"

"The guard. His name was Merrin. He was good-looking and he was fun, he said he'd take me travelling. Maybe it was a load of bull, I don't know…Vera warned me about men who make promises like that. But I never had the chance to find out!" She paused trying to find a dry spot on her handkerchief, then continued with a shaking voice. "I'll never forget it. We were fooling around one day and Finn comes in, and just starts…_screaming_, like he was possessed. I couldn't get him off him, I was screaming at him and hitting him and it was like Finn didn't hear me at all…I thought he was going to kill Merrin right there. Thank the gods the other guards came, otherwise he would have."

"Finn said that he was forcing himself on you," Anna said.

"He wasn't. He was just…okay, maybe he was being a bit fresh, but I was about to tell him to cool it, then _bang_."

"But the guard captain…"

"I lied, okay?" Imoen said, her voice almost sounding like she would be sick. "I was scared, I didn't know what they'd do to Finn. They thought Merrin might die. I didn't want to see my brother hanged! So I lied. I lied."

Imoen started crying again. Anna stared at her for a moment, her words leaving a cold pit in her stomach. She put an arm around her and Imoen spoke again.

"Merrin defended himself when he finally came around, said it was all a pack of lies…but the captain just kicked him out of the Watchers, I suppose thinking Finn'd taught him enough of a lesson. Soon as he was on his feet he was gone, don't think he wanted anything to do with the place after that. I saw him before he left…he hated me. Called me all sorts of awful names. But I never admitted I told a lie."

She looked up at Anna with red eyes.

"Don't ever tell anyone this. Not Finn, not anyone! I mean it. I never told Finn I lied. He doesn't know. Nobody knows. Just…let it go away."

"Alright," Anna stammered.

There was another silence, Imoen thoughtfully regarding her handkerchief.

"Was it wrong of me to lie?"

"I—don't know," Anna said slowly.

"I know it was," Imoen said. "But I panicked, I didn't know what else to do. I felt horrible about it. I wake up in the night sometimes thinking about it. But I had to defend Finn. He wasn't himself. He _couldn't_ be. That wasn't the brother I knew. His voice, his eyes…I don't know. I can't explain. I know it was him, who else could it be? But…I don't know."

She trailed off again. Anna kept her arm around her but they were both silent. Thinking that the guard attacked Imoen made Finn's actions more justifiable, even if they were disturbing. But this new revelation quieted her. Why had he gone mad? He didn't seem unstable, even for his occasional black moods.

"So…you two are like a couple now, aren't you?" Imoen asked, still staring at her handkerchief.

"I—yes, I suppose we are," Anna said, surprised. "He told you?"

"No," she replied. She looked up and her eyes seemed brighter. "I just guessed. Thanks for the confirmation."

She laughed a little and Anna let out a small laugh, too.

"And I probably scared you off permanently," Imoen said.

"No," Anna said, trying to smile.

"I'm glad. I don't think Safana was really good for him. I'm surprised he's not out here looking for me, actually. Do you want to go find him? I kind of want to be alone."

"All right," Anna said, rising. "Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Yeah. But—don't tell him, okay? I don't want him to deal with that now, especially not after everything that's happened lately."

She looked up at her earnestly, and Anna tried a smile again.

"I won't."

...

She almost added a promise but decided it would sound rather hollow. She left the girl alone and went walking slowly past the buildings that looked strange in the flickering torchlight. A few people were out in the night but they paid her no heed and she responded in kind. She moved automatically out of the way of a figure on the steps, pausing only when she heard her name.

"Anna? Have you seen Imoen? We were talking and she just ran off."

"I was just talking with her," she said as Finn took her by the hands. "She's alright, she's just a bit—upset."

"Yeah, that was my bad. I made the mistake of mentioning that little episode. Like I said, she thinks she did something wrong somehow. But it wasn't her fault, what that bloke was trying to do."

"No…" Anna said quietly.

"Hey, are you alright? You look a bit dazed."

He smoothed her hair back and she looked up into his face. In the glow from the common room she saw his light eyes, crinkled up slightly with the little smile he wore as he regarded her in turn. It was a happy, sweet expression, and though she searched there was no trace of blackness in it.

"Anybody in there?"

He spoke again, laughing slightly. She didn't answer, but drew her arms around his neck instead.


	37. The Fighters

"And you just agreed to join them? Were you planning on discussing this with us, or were you just planning to go merrily on your way?"

The druid's green eyes snapped at Finn as she made her dislike of the mission plain. The others glanced uncomfortably at the two and out of politeness found a heightened interest in their breakfasts.

"What, do I need to ask permission to make a decision now? I was under the impression that I was in charge," he snapped back.

"Yes, when it suits you," Jaheira responded. "But you still feel free to fall back and let Khalid and I manage your affairs whenever you can't be troubled."

Anna said nothing. Finn had potential but she'd often wondered why the experienced Harpers generally seemed to defer to his decisions, and her awkward conversation with Khalid on the subject didn't tell her much more than she already knew. She'd kept it to herself, but at times she thought that they'd be better off if the pair took greater control. It almost seemed to her that they were quietly molding him into a leader, for what purpose she couldn't fathom.

"Can't I ask for advice when I need it? You never seem to have any problems doling it out, that's for sure," Finn said.

Jaheira sputtered and her cheeks went red.

"You truly are an ignorant boy, aren't you? I try to pretend otherwise, but it is for naught."

"Jaheira!" Anna exclaimed, then flushed slightly. The druid glared at her but said nothing. Before Finn could reply Khalid spoke up.

"Th-this is not the discussion w-we should be having n-now, my love. We have to deal w-with the issue at h-hand."

Jaheira seemed to deflate at his words.

"Yes…I apologise. I spoke rashly. But I do wish you had consulted us first and allowed us to meet these people. This mission is too complex for your—relative inexperience."

"I would not say those two can be trusted, but I believe we share the same immediate goal," Xan said thoughtfully, staring at the rather greasy sausage and eggs that lay untouched on his plate. "They seem serious about defeating Tazok. Without more information I believe they are our best chance of locating him, I'm sorry to say."

"There? See, even Xan agrees with me," Finn said, his eyes narrowing at Jaheira. He hadn't looked much pleased at her comments.

"Oh, let it lie," Jaheira replied, rubbing her forehead.

"We should s-still get more d-details before rushing off into anything," Khalid said. "Especially as your descriptions m-make them sound somewhat m-mad."

"That's putting it mildly," Imoen said, her eyes still red and puffy from the night before.

Anna looked up to see a strangely grim-faced Coran and Safana approach the table.

"_Manke nae lle?"_ she heard Xan say low as the elf sat at his other side.

"_N'ai'manke_," Coran said shortly, the enchanter frowning in reply.

The pair hadn't returned to the chamber till after the others had retired and had left before they'd stirred in the morning. Anna wondered but with all the other thoughts running through her mind gossip was her last concern. Finn seemed to have little interest in what the pair were doing, so why should it concern her?

"Khalid and I shall speak with them after breakfast," Jaheira continued, levelling her own look at the tardy duo. "If they have any information which will help us plan an assault, we will need it. This mission will be…difficult, to say the least."

She frowned and her lips tightened.

"Do you need anything from me now?" Anna asked suddenly. "I have something I need to do."

"No," Jaheira sighed. "But do not go far."

Anna imagined herself being teleported back to Beregost but muttered an agreement and excused herself from the table.

...

Making her way up to the chamber she pulled writing materials from her pack, then made her way down a few flights and settled at one of the small desks that were scattered on the more trafficked levels. She spread a thick piece of parchment over the wood and stared at it for a moment, regarding the flecks of dust that drifted slowly in the block of sunlight from a nearby window. The letter needed writing. But what could she possibly say? She knew she couldn't relate the truth of the situation, and she didn't want to. With a sigh she picked up her quill.

'_Dearest Maya,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I still feel dreadful for leaving after the events but I thought it best for everyone's sake if I didn't remain in Beregost. Hopefully there has been no further trouble._

_We arrived safely at the Friendly Arm Inn, and as usual the tavern has lived up to its name. The hospitality has been wonderful and we are all very comfortable here, although their sauces still don't compare with yours! We've had fine weather for the journey though I am still thankful for the thick wool socks you knitted. I am not entirely sure when our next move will be, but I will write again if we travel elsewhere._

Anna paused and thought for a moment, then wrote carefully.

_'As I do not know how long I will be away from home, I wanted to tell you that I arranged some time ago for the cottage to be cared for by you should I ever be delayed. The solicitor Havery has the details should it become an issue at tax-time, for example. I know that you manage everything wonderfully, but it bears mentioning._

She looked at the words and sighed again; their import would hardly be lost on the keen housekeeper. She could picture her little home in her mind, but the harder she tried to call up the details the fuzzier they seemed. She'd barely been gone a fortnight but there almost seemed to be a barrier between her and the place, a feeling that was new to her. Always on her few travels away from home she'd slept sounder in an unfamiliar bed by imagining she was there. This new gap disturbed her, for she knew the reason—this time she mightn't make it back again. She tried to chase the thought from her mind but it remained, and it seemed so at odds with the inconsequential pleasantries that filled the page that she wanted to crumple it up and start again.

...

She dried the ink in the sunbeam and carefully folded the parchment to seal. Not wanting to risk making a mess on the Mirrorshade's desk she'd left the sealing wax in the chamber and she made her way back up the stairs. The door was slightly ajar and Anna heard low voices inside. She paused when she heard Safana's name mentioned. She quickly realised it was the elves, and though they spoke in their tongue she still managed to pick up on much of what was said.

"What brings on this madness? That woman is foulness personified," she heard Xan say.

"I can forgive you that slight, my lord, for you are obviously not familiar with her more…hidden charms," Coran replied in a light tone.

"And thank Corellon for that. Even if she were better tempered—you do yourself no service by immersing yourself in human women. Such relentless pursuits are…distasteful."

"Why should you say such a thing? They can be such delightful blooms. Should we never take love when we find it?"

"Love, indeed," Xan scoffed. "It is hardly a matter of love, and you know this."

"Maybe, maybe not," Coran laughed. "How would you define love?"

"You know well what I mean."

"Yes, I believe I do, and I have never understood such objections. These women are like a taste of sweet wine—only there for a moment, but worth savouring nonetheless."

"And you would gladly submit to something so ephemeral, I am certain. Perhaps that is the lure for you after all, a partnership where there is no chance of a future together? What happens when the lady grows old?"

"I have no crystal ball," Coran laughed again. "But I never allow such thoughts of the future to interrupt my enjoyment of the present. Why care for what has not happened? But in truth the world flows with wine, my friend. And there are many, many drops to flow over the tongue, yes?"

Xan sighed and made a reply that Anna didn't hear. She moved silently away from the door, thinking she'd heard more than enough of that conversation. So Coran told Xan about his relationship? Xan had never seemed much pleased by his flirtatious nature, and knowing his other biases his thoughts didn't truly surprise her. Thinking of Coran's words though gave her a kind of queer, almost angry feeling in her stomach. Women, at least her kind of woman were toys to him. He could pick them up or toss them aside like a doll, they were nothing beyond what pleasure they could bring. She'd often been angered by Xan's opinions on humans but now she thought he was at least honest. Better a haughty consistency than a false smile and indifferent heart.

...

Hurrying down the spiral staircase she nearly bumped into Finn.

_"Oop!"_ he laughed, though Anna thought his eyes looked serious as he caught her up in a kiss. Her parchment crumpled slightly as she pressed her hands against his shoulders.

"I was looking for you," he said. "We're moving out tomorrow."

Anna's heart flopped a little at the news.

"Oh. Khalid and Jaheira spoke with them?"

"Yeah. I guess the big kids say it's alright, so we're going. Xzar swears that his camp is a day's march out of here, so we'll head out first thing."

"Well, then," Anna said quietly.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so. What about you?"

"I don't know. It doesn't seem real, does it? Although that wizard still never said what Tazok wanted me for. If I can't find that out…"

"You will. Someone must know, if not Tazok then one of his lieutenants."

"Maybe. One thing I've learned is it's amazing how ignorant people tend to be with details. Although if I can't find out from them, you can bet I'll be making that wizard squeal," he said grimly.

"What are you doing now?" Anna asked, realising that Finn had taken her arm and was leading her back up the stairs.

"They've got a barn set up for practice, thought I'd put a few rounds in to get my mind off things. I want to change first, though. What about you? Want to spar a little?"

He grinned at her and Anna shook her head, thinking she'd probably be knocked around soon enough without going out of her way.

"Not now. I've—got to find a messenger for this letter," she said. At least she had an excuse to get back into the room.

...

The elves looked up in surprise as the door opened.

"What are you, just hanging around in the dark?" Finn said jokingly.

"'Tisn't dark to our eyes, my good human," Coran replied blithely.

"Right, right."

Anna busied herself with lighting a taper, glad for a reason to keep her back to the elves though her guilt at eavesdropping was balanced by her irritation at the conversation.

"We're going after Tazok tomorrow," Finn announced, relating the details.

Xan let out a long sigh but Coran was oddly silent, and Anna turned around. He'd been reclined casually on a bed but suddenly became animated.

"So our glorious battle is at hand? Very well. I should visit that rather rotund fletcher-fellow and see if I can't purchase more arrows. Pardon me, friends."

He lit up from the bed and swooped out the door in a smooth motion.

"What numbers are we expecting to face?" Xan asked Finn.

"Xzar wasn't exactly clear on that," he replied. "I don't think it'll be more than what we took out at the lighthouse, though. The bandits seem to split themselves up to keep from calling too much attention to their hideouts."

"That is hardly comforting. The creatures at the lighthouse were largely an undisciplined group of thugs, but it's certain that Tazok will have surrounded himself with the finest protection he has. How can we even know this mad wizard knows what he's talking about?"

"I thought you were up for this?" Finn said.

"I agreed they were our best chance of finding the ogre, but that is far from being 'up for it'."

"I know what you mean. I wouldn't trust that wizard to find ugly on an orc's backside but that little freak seems pretty keen, I hate to admit. I don't think he'd be willing to risk his neck unless we had a chance."

"You are likely right," Xan sighed.

Anna finished sealing her letter and turned around in time to see Finn slipping an old tunic over his strong shoulders. She'd often seen him in varying states of undress but she still pinked a little at the knowing grin he gave her when he noticed her less-than-subtle look. She lowered her eyes to her letter but an answering smile crept out the corners of her mouth just the same.

"You don't want to spar, but do you want to come watch?" Finn said to her, a pleased look on his face.

"We should coordinate our spells," Xan said before she could reply. "I have an uncomfortable feeling that strategy will be more important than ever tomorrow."

The enchanter fixed her with a rather hard glare. It startled her and she wondered if he knew she'd been listening in on their conversation.

"True…" Anna hesitated. He was right but some defiant little voice inside wanted to spend more time with Finn, despite their mission.

"Aw, come on. For a little while. It's early yet," Finn said.

"I need to leave my letter with Bentley, anyway," Anna said. "A little while won't hurt—I can pick up some…pointers. I'll be back soon."

She hurried after Finn, trying to ignore Xan's look. She knew she shouldn't be slack but the idea of being shut in the airless room, trying to memorise spells while pouring over what might happen tomorrow made her feel slightly ill. An hour or so away would improve her concentration.

...

The practice barn was a low, fairly narrow stone structure that the Mirrorshades had set up for the inn guards, but any patron who paid a fee could use it. With their weapons at the guardhouse Finn made his way to a rack of wooden practice swords and tried a couple before he found one that seemed to suit his hands.

"You sure I can't convince you to play?" he laughed, his eyes getting that look which told Anna she'd be on her back in less than a minute if she took up his offer.

"No thanks," she smiled.

"Then why have you come?" Jaheira's voice said.

Anna jumped a little as the druid approached the pair, wiping sweat and some stray wisps of honey-brown hair off her brow.

"I, ah—" Anna stumbled. "I was just talking to Finn."

"I see. This is not a place for a chat, though. If you are not looking to practice I would suggest that you find something else to occupy your time. Shouldn't you be memorising your spells? Finn has told you of tomorrow, hasn't he?"

"Yes," Anna said, looking down. "But I believe I will practice."

"If you wish, then," Jaheira sighed. "Khalid is working with the dummies, Finn, if you care to join him. Anna, come with me."

Anna threw a glance at Finn who shrugged sympathetically and went to find Khalid. Quietly Anna selected a staff from the wall, wishing now that she'd stayed in the room.

The druid hopped onto a log that had been half-buried in the dirt and reluctantly Anna stepped up onto the other side.

"Let me see your stance," Jaheira said.

Anna set her left foot forward and held the staff before her at an angle; the practice staff was heavier and longer than her own enchanted stave though and she fidgeted trying to find her footing.

"Balance, Anna—be aware of your centre."

"I know, it's just this is heavy," she muttered.

"It may not be ideal, but you must make the most of the weapons at hand. What if you lost your staff on the battlefield and had to pick up an enemy's arms?"

"I'd hope to use my spells," Anna replied, moving the wood under her fingers. "I'm a mage after all, not a fighter."

"And yet you're here, with no spellbook in sight," Jaheira said. Anna glanced at her and saw a spark in her eyes. "I've seen many wizards fall because they were too trusting in magic. You know well you may not have a chance to cast a spell before an enemy strikes, you must be prepared to defend yourself physically. Ready?"

"Yes."

...

Anna swept the low end of her staff up at Jaheira's head, the druid easily blocking the blow with her shield. She lowered a strike with her club but Anna just managed to drive it out of the way, wincing as the wood hit her staff inches from her fingers. She gritted her teeth and swung the heavy wood in the opposite direction, trying to catch Jaheira in the other temple. The druid ducked out of the way causing Anna to lose her footing and she wobbled on the log. Anna saw a swift blur then felt the club tap lightly on the side of her head.

"Balance," Jaheira said again.

"Who can balance with this?" Anna muttered, her face red. The pole was over two feet longer than her own and the wood thick in her hands.

"It is perfectly balanced, I tried it earlier," Jaheira said dryly. "Again."

Anna tried different attacks but none made a solid blow, and she found herself being pushed further and further back on the log.

"You are just defending, not attacking," Jaheira said finally. "Your opponents aren't likely to just give up. You need to attack."

Anna breathed heavily leaning on her staff, regretting more and more not attending to her spells. She could hardly expect to defeat Jaheira or anyone else with muscle and experience—holding them off until she could cast a spell or someone could come to her aid was her only real option.

The druid called for her to fight again but Anna shook her head.

"I don't want to get…too tired," she said.

"Perhaps not," Jaheira replied. "We need to start developing your strength, though. I think some exercises will be in order. Log-lifts will be useful. And stone-throwing, I believe, too."

Anna looked wearily at the druid who stood straight despite the activity, her defined arms akimbo like a schoolmistress considering a punishment for a wayward pupil.

"Can it wait?" Anna puffed. "I think I might be…busy tomorrow."

Unexpectedly Jaheira's eyes crinkled up and a smile crept out.

"Aye, it will keep. I might be busy, myself."

Anna laughed a little and smiled back. She bade Jaheira farewell and hung up her staff, then went over to where Finn and Khalid still practiced. Finn was engaged in attack with a straw-filled dummy, his heavy blows sending its poor limp arms and legs swinging mercilessly. Despite the inanimate opponent his face was set and focused, and Anna shuddered a bit thinking of ever having that expression turned towards her.

Watching him move she thought again that he seemed a natural fighter, or as much as there could be such a thing. She found a strange bit of pride in that and the thought made her lower her eyes. She wondered if his skill was a developed trait or an instinct that made him want to abandon magic for the sword. Likely both, she thought as she watched the sackcloth finally surrender to his wooden blade, sending straw and one stuffed arm flinging to the floor. Undeterred by his opponent's terrible injury Finn readjusted his grip and delivered another blow.

Her eyes wandered over to Khalid who faced a straw man of his own. Although he lacked Finn's size and strength he was quick and ably landed a series of blows against the cloth. His fighting style was different to Finn's, Anna noticed, though whether it was an elvish method or a product of his southern heritage she couldn't say.

Khalid wasn't especially bold in life but just as his stutter hid a clever mind his nervousness disguised his talents as a fighter, and in the heat of battle she'd seen him not hesitate to dash into the thick to aid a comrade in danger. He'd saved her own life more than once. Now he gazed at the dummy with that strength of necessity, that instinct that told him to help, no matter what. Anna wondered before how Khalid and Jaheira ended up together with their obvious personality differences; now she considered that seeing him fight probably went far in explaining the attraction. He seemed to shed his fears and turned into a man of confidence and grace.

...

She threw off her reveries though and went out into the courtyard, heading for the well. She winched up the bucket and while she drank greedily a voice surprised her.

"You seem rather sweaty. I hope you've been doing something worthwhile to earn it, hm?"

Anna wiped her chin and turned to see Safana come and casually lean up against the stone well.

"Just getting some sparring practice in," Anna breathed, her throat numb from the water.

"I would not call that worthwhile," the thief replied, peering down into the darkness. She was quiet a moment.

"Tell me…do you believe in wishing wells?"

"What?"

"If I were to toss in a coin, would I get my wish."

Anna looked at Safana, puzzled by the odd question that seemed delivered in all seriousness.

"I suppose it depends on your wish," Anna replied.

"Yes…" she said thoughtfully, still looking into the depths. She laughed a little though. "I must be getting older. It never occurred to me before to waste coin in such a foolish manner. Superstitions are strange things, don't you think? They rule our infantile lives, then we leave them behind as we grow, thinking ourselves too wise for children's games…only for them to return, stronger than ever. Why is that, I wonder?"

"I don't know," Anna considered. "Perhaps we see the sands running through the glass, and desire to play tricks with the gods? Or perhaps we realise how little control we have sometimes over our own lives, and make our little appeals to fate?"

"Both, I think," Safana replied.

"Are you alright?" Anna asked.

"Always, dear one."

She raised a practiced smile but her eyes stayed the same. She chuckled again, though.

"Do you know today is my birthday?"

"Is it? Well, happy birthday!" Anna said, surprised. "Why didn't you mention it?"

"It is not really the time nor the place for a party," Safana said. "Besides, I am not really at an age where a lady likes to call attention to the fact that she is getting older."

"Twenty-five?" Anna said archly.

"No," the thief replied, a real smile creeping over her face. "Twenty-six."

Anna nodded, trying to restrain a smile. The two women stood in silence again.

"Ah, well," Safana said. "I can spare the coin."

She flipped a gold piece from her fingers, watching it spin glittering down into the depths.

"What did you wish for?" Anna asked.

"Now, you know I cannot tell you or it won't come true."

"Of course," Anna said with a laugh. "Perhaps I should make a wish, even if it isn't my birthday."

"By all means," Safana offered generously. "Though may I make a suggestion?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly.

"Put in a coin, and pray that you are not relying on wishing wells when you are twenty-six."

Anna looked at her. The mirth had vanished from the thief's face. She glanced once more into the well, then sauntered away without another word.

...

Anna's hands felt her robe pockets but she had no coin. The strain of the upcoming battle must be affecting everyone, she thought watching Safana departing. Letting out a little sigh she headed back into the keep, more than ready to discuss the finer points of conjuration and alteration.

Xan's mood hadn't much improved and his tone of voice led Anna to feel for certain that he knew she'd been eavesdropping. Neither mentioned the incident though and the elf eventually mellowed, slipping back into that bubble which seemed to surround him whenever he studied magic. Anna tried to study faithfully and followed his example the best she could, focusing on the magic as much as possible. Several candles burned away before she finally drew her book shut with a sigh and went to find a supper for her empty stomach.

She joined the group at table and they all sat eating and drinking in relative silence. Jaheira had her head bent over a chart, paying little attention to her meal. Khalid kept staring off into space. Imoen engaged in bursts of slightly desperate-sounding conversation then fell quiet once again. Safana seemed sulky. Coran had an even freer hand than usual with the wine and he was the only one who might be considered jolly. But looking at him Anna noticed a strange, almost worried look in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. He saw her regarding him and flashed a brilliant smile, but the look remained.

...

After they'd eaten Finn quietly asked Anna up to the roof. None of the others seemed to take an interest in the fact that they went off together; if Imoen knew, then the others likely did as well, Anna considered ruefully.

The lights still decorated the sky though they were fading. They sat down together on the wooden roof. For a summer night the air felt cool with only the linen fabric of her shift over her arms and Anna shivered a little, wishing she'd brought her cloak.

"Chilly?" Finn asked, taking up one of her hands.

"A little."

"Well, you know what they say—cold hands…"

"Need gloves?" Anna laughed.

"Something like that," he chuckled. "Here, why don't you lean against me?"

Reluctantly she let him get behind her and he wrapped his arms around her body, resting them on his raised knees. It was a close embrace but leaning back onto his chest she admitted it felt warm and comfortable. He brushed her ear with a kiss but they were silent for some time, watching the curtains of light flowing.

"So…tomorrow," Anna said finally.

"Yeah," Finn said. "You know…you don't have to come. You could wait here."

"Why would you say that?" Anna asked, craning her neck to look at him.

"Well, it's going to be pretty dangerous, right?"

"Are you scared?" Anna asked quietly.

"Aye," he replied, giving her a squeeze. "There's not much else for it, though, is there?"

"No."

They were silent again.

"It's funny though—I'm more worried about the others, like Imoen and you," Finn continued. "I know I'm just as likely to end up dead as anyone, but I can't really think of that. You picture all the bad that could happen, but…I don't know. I never see myself dying. I guess that just means I'm an egotistical tit, eh?"

He chuckled slightly and Anna laughed.

"I suppose so," she said, laughing again as he nipped at her ear. "But I feel the same. I suppose we always think of ourselves as immortal, don't we?"

"Maybe. Gods, listen to me—I've got a pretty girl alone on a rooftop and I'm talking about death," he laughed again. "I think our Xan's starting to rub off on me."

"Perish the thought," Anna snickered. "What shall we talk about, then?"

"Hmm…"

Anna smiled into the darkness as his lips began caressing her neck. She twisted around to face him and for awhile enjoyed the warmth of his kisses. She slipped her fingers through Finn's hair and down his back, feeling her own warmth rising. His hands drifted up her bodice but when he began tugging at her lace-strings she gently pulled them away.

"Why not?" he murmured.

"Don't you think it's a bit soon?" she whispered back.

"Soon for what?"

"You know…" Anna muttered, her face growing hot.

"_Ah_. Well, I wasn't going there, but now that you mention it…"

He slipped a hand down and gingerly pulled up her dress. Anna squeaked and brushed his hands off and Finn laughed good-naturedly.

"Can't blame a fellow for trying."

"I ought to slap you," Anna said lightly.

"Your shift's pretty far down your shoulders, my good lady virtue," Finn chuckled back, Anna tweaking his nose in reply.

Finn laid her down on the roof and kissed her again, but after a moment broke off.

"You have, haven't you?"

"What?"

"You know…"

"That's a bit forward," Anna stammered.

Finn looked at her and she felt the foolishness of her answer just as she felt his hand sliding down her waist.

"Sorry," he said dryly. "I was just curious. You do like me, don't you?"

"Yes," Anna stumbling again over the silliness of the question.

"Good. It's hard to tell sometimes," Finn said quietly.

"Is it?" Anna asked, but Finn just kissed her neck. She sighed and wrapped her fingers in his hair, looking up at the stars, but one word kept repeating in her mind.

_Tomorrow._

...

_'Where have you been?'  
'Nowhere.'_


	38. Thunder Road

The next morning Anna awoke to a candle shining in her eyes.

"Come," Jaheira said, leaning over the bed. "It is time to rise."

"Gods, what time is it?" Imoen yawned, rolling over.

"It is nearly dawn."

"_Nearly?"_

"Yes. Now come," the druid repeated in a neutral tone, evidently not in the mood for argument or sarcastic quips.

With sandy eyes Anna dragged herself off the straw-filled mattress and slipped her dress over her shift, not concerned with the others likewise dressing in the small chamber. They were all quiet, no one speaking more than a few necessary, low words. Anna pulled her boots on and splashed some of the remaining water from the pitcher into a basin to wash but paused when she heard Xan speak.

"Where is Coran? It is early for him to rise."

"Safana is not here, either," Jaheira said, sounding surprised.

"Oh, _umm_...they're not here," Imoen said quietly.

"We know. Wake up!" Finn joked a little, looking up from his boots.

"I meant I know where they are," Imoen replied, irritated.

"And where is that, child?" Jaheira interrupted. "They knew we were making an early start."

"Well, I saw Safana last night here in the room. She had her pack and when I asked why she said they'd, _um_...gotten a room together."

Anna glanced at the girl. She kept her eyes trained on the floor and fingered the blanket absently, not apparently comfortable to be the one who revealed that information to the group.

"Silvanus, is there no dignity?" Jaheira muttered. "Did she happen to say _which _room they were occupying?"

"No."

"Never mind, I will ask Bentley and find out on which door to bring down my fist," she said irritably.

Anna sighed and went back to washing. Sharing a room was a new step in boldness for the pair and she knew there was little point in maintaining the increasingly feeble pretence that Finn and her weren't likewise together. Though she was happy to drop it she still couldn't help wondering what the others thought.

...

As she turned to pack up the last bits a sharp rap sounded on the door. The hem of her robe began to ripple strangely and Anna fancied a draught was coming from under the frame. Khalid undid the bolt and suddenly a gust of wind blew through the chamber, whipping Anna's robe and skirts around her legs and eliciting cries from the others.

"_Silvanus, what_—" Jaheira said, raising a hand to her eyes.

"Xzar, for the last bloody time—put yer toys away! Save it for later, will ya?"

Anna looked to see the halfling Montaron clinging to his hood, staring up angrily at Xzar who calmly entered the room surrounded by what looked like a small tornado.

"Oh, but Monty—it's such fun! And look at their faces, I told you it would wake them up."

Anna jumped back as the tornado drew itself together and a head and torso rose up out of the funnel. Cold blue eyes regarded Xzar and the creature hissed with the sound of rushing wind.

"An air elemental?" Xan shouted over the noise. "You madman! Dispel it at once!"

Xzar didn't answer but grinned strangely, his eyes locked with the creature's. Anna stumbled near to a corner as she could get in the tight space racking her brain to remember some long-forgotten lesson in how to defeat planar summons. She and the others waited tensely in the whirlwind, waiting to see if the wizard would manage to control the undulating and hissing creature. Anna gasped as the elemental grew in size, taking on a form of black smoke, its eyes turning ember-red. Xzar still stood calmly though, that same little grin on his face. After another moment he idly waved a hand and the elemental vanished into the ether.

"What the hells was that about?" Finn cried, pushing his windblown hair out of his eyes. "We know you're a wizard, already."

"Don't—_ever_—do that again!" Montaron shouted loudly as his halfling lungs would allow.

Xzar just drew a deep breath and smiled with satisfaction.

"I do love the smell of the planes in the morning."

"If we are to work together, wizard, you need to save such tricks for the battlefield," Jaheira said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, pooh, my lady Harper," Xzar replied. He stretched casually and flickers of light danced off his arms. "It isn't as though I summoned an efreet. Look, nothing at all singed! Regardless, we do have something of a long walk ahead of us today. And you aren't ready yet? _Tsk_. I told you they wouldn't be, Monty, didn't I?"

"W-we're ready," Khalid said shortly. "M-meet us down in the h-hall."

"Fine. We'll m-m-m-meet y-you in the h-h-hall," Montaron quipped, finding an outlet for his anger with his companion. He grabbed the wizard by the robe sleeve and virtually dragged him out of the room.

"They—he—_blast their hides!_" Jaheira sputtered, her face growing red.

"I know, m-my wife. Never mind," Khalid soothed.

The druid shook her brown braids sharply.

"Yes, you are right. But Silvanus help us, how do we always manage to dig up such gems?"

"Our t-travels have their brighter m-moments. D-do you remember the beach?" he said with a low voice.

"What beach? Where? I..."

The druid suddenly stopped, a flash of recognition coming over her face. Khalid smiled a broad, sheepish smile.

"I...you...pack your bag!" Jaheira commanded with a stammer. A flush crept over her cheeks but she gave her husband a quick kiss just the same.

...

After a final minute's packing they hoisted up their bags and filed one by one out of the room. Anna slid hers onto her shoulders but suddenly heard a tearing noise and the pack flopped heavily to one side.

"Oh, no—the strap's ripped clean away!" she exclaimed.

"Y-you should check your g-gear before we set off," Khalid said. He spoke good-naturedly but his words pricked Anna just the same.

"I know," she grumbled. "And my sewing kit is on the bottom, too—I'll have to unpack everything!"

She tossed the pack on the bed and irritably yanked open the buckles, tugging out the food and spare clothing she'd just put the effort into bundling.

"Don't bother with that, you'll be a tenday," Xan sighed, pausing on his way out the door. "Here, use mine."

He slid his pack down and reached into a side-pocket, pulling out a small leather bundle.

"D-don't be too long," Khalid called after hoisting up his own burden.

"You should keep such things in a more convenient place," Xan said while Anna stuck a needle between her teeth and took up a spool of heavy waxed thread. "It would save you and the rest of us trouble on the road."

"I know, I know," she grumbled again. The words made the needle wobble and as she reached up a hand to steady it she sent the spool clattering to the floor and rolling under a bed.

"Merciful Seldarine," Xan muttered. "Try not to lose anything else."

Anna let out a puff as the elf stepped out the door. If their start was any indication this mission didn't bode well at all. She dove under the bed for the wayward spool but paused, finding something else instead.

"Xan!" she cried, straightening up and hitting her head on the bedstead.

"What?" his voice answered from the hall.

Anna didn't reply. She pulled herself out from under the bed, forgetting about the spool. The front of her mage robe was covered in dust but she ignored it while reading the slip of parchment in her hands.

"What is it?" the elf repeated, stepping back into the room.

She handed him the note. Xan quickly scanned the words, his mouth first opening then shutting tight.

"_Amader...mankoi ro uma tanya?"_ he said angrily. "This is inconceivable. That woman...I knew she would be trouble, I warned him."

"I can't believe it," Anna said blankly. "Gone?"

She peered over the elf's shoulder, reading again the words and hoping there was some mistake, but there wasn't. Coran's farewell note was short, cheerful, slightly apologetic, and utterly wrenching in its result.

"He abandoned his kin...and for what? That—_succubus!"_ Xan said, his face growing red.

"He left of his own free will," Anna said, feeling strangely defensive of Safana. "You can't blame her entirely."

"Do you even understand?" he fumed. "That an elf should abandon his kin in such a way—it is shameful. It violates our dearest of principles. And all for some dog of a human wench—"

"Xan!" Anna exclaimed, looking at him in shock.

"I wasn't referring to _you_," he said acidly. "But considering your own role in this drama—no, never mind. I must tell the others. _Amader..._"

"What do you mean?" she sputtered.

"Nothing. I will meet you downstairs."

"You and your 'nothings'—you can't say something like that and walk away. What do you mean?" she said, feeling her own anger rising.

"Fix your pack," he replied in a hard voice and strode out of the room.

Anna watched him go, her eyes beginning to smart. She recovered the spool and sat blindly stabbing the needle into the canvas.

...

"Eh, what's the big deal? One less pansy prancing elf is fine by me. Though it's a pity he took that bird with the tight trousers with him," Montaron said, addressing the collective shock and fury that Coran's note had sent through the group. "I was lookin' forward to marchin' behind her, ya know what I'm saying?"

He elbowed Xan's leg knowingly and the elf glared at him.

"I'm guessing that's a 'no'," Monty replied. "Not surprised..."

"One more remark such as that and I will having you taking a stroll off the top of the tower, do I make myself clear?" he answered coldly.

"Be silent, the pair of you," Jaheira spat. She rubbed her temples and her voice shook as though she was making every effort to restrain her rage.

"I want to say I can't believe this, but I can," Finn said, reading over the note with a black look. "The old girl finally got her way. Reckon her jaw must be pretty worn out by now," he added to himself, crumpling the note and handing it back to Jaheira.

"If they are g-gone then they are gone," Khalid said. "There is l-little use in discussing it, and the s-sun rises higher."

"Yes, let us go and meet this miserable mission. I am tired of waiting for death," Xan replied bitterly.

...

They gathered their weapons from the guardhouse and set off on the road north. Xzar walked merrily along, humming off-kilter tunes to himself. At odd intervals he pulled a strange brass device from a bag and held it out flat, making a pleased little noise as he regarded it intently. Anna craned her neck slightly to see what the wizard held and he beckoned her over with a lopsided grin.

"Clever, isn't it?" he asked.

The device had a circular plate on top which was etched with various runic markings. A needle floated in the centre and Anna watched it wobbling slightly.

"What is it?"

"A device for finding your bearings even on the cloudiest day or blackest night. The little needle is a homing bird, always pointing towards her home in the north. Fly away, birdy! Fly away home!"

He gave it a little shake and the needle whirled madly for a moment but still found its way to the same rune.

"It always points north? I've heard of such enchantments," Anna commented.

"Yes, my dear, but this is no enchantment. It follows the very bones of the earth herself and cannot be dispelled. It is of dwarven design—they make frequent use of such trinkets in their deep homes, but such machinery is rarely seen on the surface, sadly."

"It's remarkable, but why do you keep checking it? We already know we're heading north."

"Ah, but here is its other trick. Observe."

He stopped in the road and withdrew a yellow, cracked parchment from a leather tube in his pack. Anna cast an eye to the others but watched politely as Xzar placed the odd device down over a map marked lightly with a chequered pattern. He slid the device onto a spot and pointed.

"You see? This marks where we are. And this here," he pointed to a cross marked some distance across the map, "this is where the naughty Tazok is hiding. Now, without knowing the land even the keenest of rangers would stumble blindly in the wilderness before finding the ogre, but the little bird tells us just where we are, and just when to turn off the road into the trees. I can lead us straight to his camp with little fuss."

"That is clever. I've never seen such a detailed chart, either," Anna remarked. "There are runes on it, is the map from the dwarves as well?"

"Yes, indeed. The bearded ones dwelled in this region in some number many years past and they mapped the land with the exceeding attention to detail for which they are renowned, seeking good locations to burrow for their riches."

"A map to dwarven mines must be valuable. Where did you get such a thing?" Anna asked again, looking over the chart and wishing she knew more of their runes.

"Ah, my dear, you enquire once again into my professional secrets. Shame, shame! But sadly, this map is not the treasure you might think. Legend tells that the greedy dwarves stripped this land of its gems long ago and departed for greener...tunnels. Regardless, I doubt the diggers would have abandoned them if there were ought left to scavenge."

"I suppose not," Anna conceded.

...

Finn came and walked by her side.

"How are you?" Anna asked quietly.

"Well as can be expected. Why, were you thinking about Safana?"

"Does it...bother you?"

"That we're two hands short going into the fight of our lives? Yeah. That the crazy bitch is gone? No."

Anna looked at him.

"Sorry. Though if you're going to feel sorry for anyone, make it Coran. He fancies himself a playboy but I think he might've met his match," Finn said, a mean smile twisting up.

"I doubt he's in love, anyway," Anna replied dryly, thinking of her overheard conversation.

"I'm not so sure. He's a dizzy beggar, and he fell pretty hard. Pity him if she's got her claws in him."

"How do you know?" Anna asked.

"Me and her were pretty familiar, you know. She played every trick she could think of to get me to chuck all this in and head off with her."

"No, I mean that Coran's in love. What makes you think so?"

"Nothing," Finn said, frowning. "Just a guess."

Anna sighed and looked down at the road, thinking Finn's expression was a little strange. She looked up again when she felt his arm on her shoulders.

"All right?" he asked, looking at her.

"Yes," she replied, a warm smile creeping out.

She slipped her own arm around his waist and he pulled her closer, and despite the burden of packs and weapons they walked together for some time.

...

Anna noticed that Jaheira began studying the shrubbery on the side of the road intently but paid little heed; the druid often paused to gather up useful plants she found by the wayside. But she began to look agitated and called Khalid over, conferring with him while pointing a hand towards the forest. Finn's arm slid away and he went to speak with them.

"Something up?"

"The b-bushes have been broken," Khalid answered. "H-Horses and wagons have g-gone through here recently."

"Down that slope?" Finn said, peering down the wooded hill. "You'd never get a wagon back up. If they went down..."

"Then they likely didn't go down willingly," Jaheira said grimly. "Come, let us investigate."

Anna followed the others down the gently sloping hillside. It was a fairly easy descent on foot but she quickly saw that any team would struggle through the fallen logs and undergrowth, and no sane driver would force his team down there.

The trees began to part and the soil underfoot grew sandy, and Anna figured they must be coming upon a pond or lake. Khalid signalled to get down and she ducked behind a tree, well as she could with her heavy pack. She couldn't see much ahead and sat listening to the cries of birds echoing around while waiting for an all-clear.

A small black beetle made its way over the mossy tree-trunk and Anna kept perfectly still as it crawled over her sleeve, pausing now and then to feel the air with its tiny antennae. Not finding anything of interest on her robe it made its way back to the tree. She was nothing but a part of the scenery to that glossy little bug, Anna thought, and she pondered idly how so many worlds could exist together, yet seem so separate.

...

The signal seemed a long time in coming and she craned her neck to see around the trees. Eventually though Khalid's whistle came through and she rose up and followed it. She saw sky reflected in a large pond and the three warriors conferring together. But seeing what lay at their feet she paused, not wanting to move any closer.

Scattered by the water's edge were the burnt-out remains of several wagons. They'd been knocked onto their sides and the beasts that drew them to that fateful spot lay bloated in front, still harnessed in death to their loads. A subtle breeze crept up bringing the stench to Anna's nostrils and she repressed the urge to gag.

Mixed amongst the scattered, broken remains of barrels and boxes Anna saw the bodies. Their hands were bound and they lay on their faces, the old blood staining the sands a blackish colour. Two women lay apart from the others, lying on the sands as though they'd been casually tossed aside. One woman faced the sand but the other looked upwards at the sky, her dead eyes open and her mouth parted in an expression like quiet surprise.

No one spoke. Anna didn't want to look upon the remains of the merchants but still she did. Despite the horror she felt a strange sort of detachment, as though it was a scene from a play and the actors would leap to their feet at any moment. The idea that she could look upon such violent, brutal death and not be shaken to her core troubled her worse than the sights and smell of that once-gentle pondside.

Xzar walked casually up to one of the men and rolled him over, raising up his eyelids and looking into his mouth in a matter-of-fact way.

"Dead longer than three days, a pity," he announced with a shake of his head. "The bandits left quite a mess behind as well, the naughty fellows. By the number of bruises I would say they used this fellow for sport. He is missing several teeth, recently by the blood. Jaw fractured...eyeball ruptured, dear me! Is there no respect for a corpse? And what did they use on his throat, a hacksaw? Serrated blade, Monty? I think so, yes."

Xzar continued his pronouncements but Anna tried not to listen.

"This was more than robbery. Such unnecessary violence—it is appalling," Jaheira said, disgust plain in her voice. "What sort of diseased individual does something like this to people who could not hope to fight back?"

"I should guess they had issues with their mothers," Xzar said casually, examining a man's hands. Jaheira made a short noise and looked away.

"Looks like they cleaned up pretty good, whoever they was," Monty said with a sniff. "I'll give the place a once-over just the same, eh, Xzar?"

"Like hells you are," Finn said. "Give them some peace."

"If they've got peace coming the gods'll see to it, we ain't got nothing to say on that. The only thing for sure is they don't need their stuff no more. It's like they say—you can't take it with you!"

He cackled but Finn gave him a dark look and Montaron sneered.

"Suit yerself, then. But if we aren't looting them then let's get the hells out of here, aye? Don't want their ghosts getting a good look at us, after all. Might start to think we were the ones that—"

He made an exaggerated croaking noise and drew his finger across his throat. Anna walked away, not hearing Finn's reply. She noticed Xan standing with his hood up in spite of the hot sunshine, watching Xzar with a scowl.

"What is it?" she asked, looking at the other wizard.

"He has just removed that man's fingernails, and I am certain he broke out his teeth."

"A necromancer?" Anna said quietly, a little chill rising up her neck.

"Indeed. Can we stoop no lower in this quest? Tazok will be joining us next," the elf said, not taking his eyes off Xzar.

Anna shuddered, realising that Montaron hadn't been joking when he mentioned Xzar's unusual interrogation techniques.

"Let's just hope he keeps his sanity and doesn't start looking on us as spell components," she said.

The elf made a brief noise in reply. His tone to her had stayed chilly since yesterday and he seemed to avoid addressing her whenever possible.

"Are you angry with me?" Anna asked.

"Should I be?"

"You tell me," Anna said flatly. "What you said in the chamber—"

"Has nothing to do with our current situation, and is not worth discussing."

She looked at him for a moment but his eyes stayed fixed on Xzar. She shook her head and made a little exasperated noise but didn't feel like arguing with the elf. She left Xan to his broody observations and wandered over to Imoen, who was gingerly searching some smashed crates.

"I know Finn said to leave it, but we need all the help we can get, right?" Imoen quietly excused herself. "Not like I'm picking over their bodies or anything."

Anna murmured something in assent, keeping an eye on Xzar who'd moved on to the women.

"The halfling was right though, there's nothing here. Just some old clothes and things. I hoped they might have some potions, you know? We could use them."

"Yes," Anna started, turning to her. "I can't make much beyond simple salves and tinctures on the road. I wish I could get back home."

"I didn't mean anything by that. I'm still using that cream you gave me when my hands got all chapped when it was cold, remember? It's almost gone, though. Do you think you could make some more?"

"Hm? Oh, I will. I bought some more marigold flowers at the inn. I'll have to—"

"Oh, look!" Imoen exclaimed happily, moving aside a crate. "There's a..."

Anna watched as the light fell from the girl's face, her bright expression changing to a look of confused horror. Her eyes grew wide and she stumbled backwards.

"What—?" Anna breathed.

Imoen looked at the mage then back down again. Her mouth opened but made no sound.

"I...I thought it was a doll."

Imoen forced out the words and stumbled away towards the others. Looking to see what the girl found Anna bent over what looked like a pile of clothing but froze. A small pale fist rested near wisps of fair hair. The slight yellow locks were stained with blood and dirt, the soft round face broken. Anna shut her eyes tight as she could.

...

"How are you holding up?" Finn asked, coming to sit next to Anna in the firelight.

They'd done what they could for the merchants' bodies and left markings by the roadside as a guide to the Flaming Fist before moving onwards in their trek. Xzar used his odd device to guide them into the trees and the others followed the mad wizard reluctantly. Since they'd set off from the inn Montaron had been proactive in giving Xzar his medicine and the necromancer stayed more or less coherent throughout the journey. The events with the caravan slowed them down but it turned to be something of an opportunity, positioning them well to strike the camp at dawn.

"I've been better," Anna said, trying to give him a smile.

"Same here."

Finn said nothing else and Anna dropped her head to her spellbook again.

"My lady wizard," he spoke quietly. Anna looked up and he was smiling at her. "I never knew many lady mages at the keep."

"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Anna replied lightly.

"It's just an observation," he said, mouth curling. "Though you are a better sight in your robes than the monks."

Anna laughed, slightly embarrassed but pleased.

"My lady, my lady," Finn repeated. "Tell me, why don't you use your title? Or your father's name, for that matter?"

Anna looked up, surprised by the question.

"I suppose it is odd. But I used my uncle's name as a child and afterwards it never really felt like Delainis fit. I have more connection to my mother's family anyway, I barely know my father's. I was a Delainis while I lived with him but after father died, I shifted back into using my old name."

"I don't know…Cormyrian noble blood. Though I'm just an orphan, not one to talk," Finn said.

"Don't get images of grand castles in your head," Anna smirked. "They never were a great power, and my grandfather began feuding with another family..." she trailed off.

"That was when…"

"Yes," she replied quietly.

"Sorry to bring it up, but I'm always interested in families. Not having one of my own and everything."

"It's alright. I have aunts and uncles and cousins, and my grandmother is still alive. But even when Father lived I had little contact with them. I only visited our ancestral home once."

"Why didn't you see them? Was it because they were far away?"

"Partially…" she paused, then continued. "There was some tension between Father and his family. He showed magical talent from an early age, and my grandparents encouraged it. Father never talked about it much, but I gather my grandparents spent a great deal of gold to ensure he had the finest tutors in hope that he might join the War Wizards and bring honour to the family. It was unusual for a family to put so much effort into a younger son, and he felt the pressure. But Father had little interest in battle, he wanted to pursue knowledge. He found a sponsor but when he finally became a full-fledged mage he decided against becoming a candidate. My grandparents weren't pleased, to say the least…Father got his way but there was a rift between them for many years."

"Interesting. I always picture nobles being pretty spoiled, able to do whatever they want."

"Not always," Anna said. "In fact, it always seemed to me that they had less freedom than commoners in many ways."

"Maybe. So, where did your mother come in?"

Anna laughed. "After he left home Father was pretty much a threadbare scholar, moving from place to place, doing whatever he could to fund his research. Somehow he ended up working as an apothecary's assistant in Ashabenford. How he caught my mother's eye is anyone's guess—she was something of a local belle, I've heard, and he was just a poor, travelling mage from who-knows-where. I suppose he seemed…exotic," Anna laughed again.

"So your mother did the wooing?" Finn grinned.

"Apparently so," she smiled. "I think she thought he'd take her away—listening to people talk, she wanted nothing more than to leave the country and head to a city somewhere. Although I—"

"What?"

"Nothing," Anna said, shaking her head.

Anna didn't really want to continue, feeling her thoughts would seem disrespectful. Although she only had rumour and stories to go on she always pictured her mother as a beauty who felt wasted in a small town, who longed for the romance and excitement of the city but had little means to get there. A bolder woman might have declared herself an actress or an adventurer even and set off on her own, but her mother felt compelled to sit and wait for an opportunity to arrive. Poor as he must have seemed her father might've looked like that chance, especially after she learned of his family. Her mother told everyone he was a noble, much to her father's embarrassment. They married fairly quickly and though people said they were happy Anna could never help but wonder if the realities of rented rooms and darning socks by a fire they couldn't afford to feed were enough for a bright-eyed young woman who dreamed of silken gowns and festive balls.

"So, do you really feel you don't have a family?" Anna asked, wanting to take the conversation away from herself.

"I didn't mean it literally, obviously. Gorion was as good a father as anyone could have. And there's the bratty little sister, if nothing else!" Finn laughed, but Imoen seemed lost in her thoughts and didn't respond. "But I never had one with the mum and dad like everyone else did."

"I didn't really, either, I suppose," Anna said thoughtfully. "But you must've had parents at some time. You say you came from Baldur's Gate? Maybe once all this is done you can go to the city, see if you can't find anything about them."

"Yeah, maybe," Finn said, his face brightening. "It's worth a shot. What about you? Would you come with me?"

She flushed a little looking into his eager eyes.

"Maybe I would."

Finn said nothing else and looked at the fire, a pleased expression on his face. Anna smiled and went back to her book.

...

The next morning Anna was once again woken before dawn but the atmosphere was no lighter than their dark chamber at the inn. The sky was solidly black and she could feel the oppressive air of an approaching storm. Quietly though they moved onwards and Anna repeated to herself the plans they made the night before.

Jaheira, Xan and Montaron would scout the camp under protection of invisibility, to gauge an idea of numbers and to see if Tazok was indeed there. If the opportunity presented itself they would slay the ogre leader. Although she saw the sense in such a plan she still worried that it could turn into a suicide mission, and she was surprised that Xan himself suggested it. Montaron even volunteered for the duty as the best candidate for stealth; whatever flaws he had the halfling couldn't be called a coward, she thought.

The air grew lighter and the storm held off but frightened gusts of wind still shook the trees from time to time. Lost in thought her heart went into her throat when she suddenly heard a sharp command barked from the undergrowth.

"Hold it right there! Move one inch and you're dead, scum."

The party froze. Out from the bushes stepped four men armed with bows, and Anna recognized the marks of the Black Talon on their sleeves.

"Big boss'll love this. Trespassers! Get yer hands up now, unless you just want us to carry your heads back," another man said.

The party looked at one another but did as commanded. Though they had the sentries outnumbered they could still bring down any one of them before the group even touched their weapons.

"Don't you think you are being rather rash?" Xan spoke up, placing his hands on his head. He locked eyes with the leader. "We are here to help your cause."

The man looked at Xan, confused. Anna could barely breathe.

"We are mercenaries looking to join Tazok's gang. We are excellent fighters. We will be very useful," the elf continued in a level voice.

"I think they will be very useful," the leader repeated blankly. "They are excellent fighters."

"Teven? What the hells are you talking about?" one of the men said, and the other mercenaries exchanged glances.

"We are not a threat. We can help you. Tazok will reward you for bringing him such good fighters," Xan said a little louder.

"I think Tazok will reward us for bringing him such good fighters," Teven said.

"Hey, I think you're right," another said slowly. "Tazok said to keep an eye out for a band of fighters."

The leader nodded and the other men gave their assent, lowering their bows. Anna slowly lowered her hands and the others did the same. She glanced at Xan but he said nothing.

"Follow us back to camp," the leader said. "You can meet with Tazok."

With anxious looks the party followed the bandits through the woods. Anna's stomach did somersaults and she barely noticed the rain that began to fall in steady sheets. Finn conferred quietly with Jaheira, then fell back and hissed to Xan.

"What the hells, are we just planning on marching straight up to the their front door? You can't charm the entire camp, we'll be as good as dead."

"We don't need to charm them all, just the superiors," Xan replied quietly.

"That's mad! We won't stand a chance, mate. Not to mention some of them might be a bit familiar with my description, did you think of that? We ought to kill these fellows and work like we planned."

"Lower your voice," Xan hissed. "This may be for the best, and it is certainly no less dangerous than ambushing them, is it? If I could interrogate Tazok I might even find the answers you seek. Now, stop distracting me...I need to concentrate."

Finn scowled but said no more. Anna glanced at Xan; his eyes were intense but his wet face was drained of colour and he bit down hard on his lip.

...

They marched on and soon she heard the leader call out a password to the trees. A pair of sentries stepped out of hiding.

"Who're they?" one asked.

"Fighters here to join Tazok," the charmed leader replied.

The sentry let out a whistle.

"Suit yourself, nowt to do with me."

Anna let out a sigh of relief as the men let them pass without further questions. Perhaps this mad situation they'd stumbled into might stand a chance of turning in their favour, after all.

Entering the camp though her hopes fell like a stone. Nearly a dozen rough portable huts were scattered around a large clearing. Men, hobgoblins, orcs and gnolls milled around the encampment, hurrying on their business to escape the rain. Anna tried at first to count them but abandoned it after the first few dozen, fearing she might collapse. When their ruse was discovered they couldn't possibly hope to fight their way out from so many. Finn was right, they were as good as dead.

Glancing at the others she knew they felt the same. Finn came to walk by her side, his eyes blackly surveying the camp while trying to keep his face hidden in his hood. Imoen looked pale and terrified, her gaze staying on the ground at her feet. Jaheira and Khalid's faces were oddly casual but Anna could tell they were at the peak of tension. Montaron scowled but Xzar seemed almost chipper, whistling a tune under his breath. Xan's face still kept the pain of concentration, and Anna noticed his hands shaking until he hid them in his robe sleeves. In spite of everything she'd seen since joining the party the reality of imminent death only came to her at that moment. Her stomach began to shake and she fought against the urge to cry—there was nothing she could do, she had to hold on as long as she could.

She noticed though that few of the mercenaries paid much attention to their presence. Most kept their heads in their hoods and didn't notice them passing by. She saw a few ribs jabbed and a few fingers pointed in their direction but that was all. Hopefully new recruits weren't too odd an occurrence with Tazok's band and their arrival wouldn't seem suspicious.

In the centre of the huts one stood up larger and longer than the others, dark smoke coiling ominously out from holes in the roof. Approaching the hut Anna saw it was decorated with strange white crosses, but looking closer her stomach quaked again. They were human skeletons, bleached white with sun and exposure. One of the grisly decorations was newer than the rest and putrid flesh still clung to its bones, dark hair partially covering a mutilated face that still carried marks of the pain that person felt before they died. Anna looked quickly to the ground until she heard a heavy, slow voice challenging them.

"Boss don't want no company now. Get yerselves back to your patrol."

A remarkably tall warrior stood before them, dressed in solid plate and casually swinging a hammer that Anna would be hard pressed to even lift from the ground. By his size and frankly ugly appearance she reckoned he must have ogrish blood in his veins.

"These are fighters for Tazok," Teven said. "Let us pass, Taugosz."

"What's he need fighters for? He's got all the help he needs. This camp be bloated already, not enough meat to go around. Be gone before I serves ye up to the gnolls."

Xan stepped forward, looking up at the mountain-sized warrior.

"Tazok needs new recruits. We are very good fighters. We can help Tazok," he said, his voice wobbling slightly.

Taugosz seemed to regard the elf with curiosity, and cocked his huge head. Xan steadied himself and tried again.

"We are good fighters, good help. Let us in to see Tazok."

The warrior replied something in a grunt, his glazed eyes staring at nothing in particular but he stood aside quietly. Anna drew another breath and followed the others into the hut.

...

Despite the twin fires that burned in pits dug into the earth it still took her a moment to adjust to the darkness. The air stank of a nauseating mixture of animal hair, unwashed bodies and smoke. Another vaguely sweet odour that Anna couldn't identify also hung in the air and for some reason it made her stomach turn. A pair of gnoll sentries moved forwards with a growl but Teven stopped them.

"These are fighters for Tazok," he repeated again. Anna wondered how much longer that line would maintain them.

"Something for me? A present? But only a few of 'em are women. Oh, well. I ain't fussy," a rough voice laughed out of the darkness.

Heavy steps moved forward and Anna raised her eyes while keeping her head trained on the ground. The half-ogre stood taller even than the warrior outside, his heavy breastplate wide enough to cover two full-grown human men. Long sideburns framed his grotesque face and smallish black eyes. Even without knowing his reputation she could have told that it was a face that enjoyed inflicting pain above all else.

The sentry bowed.

"Yes, Captain. These are very good fighters. They can help our campaign."

"Can they now?" Tazok growled low in an almost purring sound, letting his eyes run over the tense party.

"What foolishness is this?" A sharp voice spoke behind the ogre and a human mage stepped forward. "You bring these people to the commander's tent?"

"I don't like the smell of 'em. Run 'em through, I say!" Another rough voice said, a large hobgoblin appearing behind the mage.

"We have heard of the greatness of Tazok," Xan spoke up. Anna thought he looked as though it took all his effort to stay upright. "We wish to provide aid to your cause."

"Cause? What 'cause' do we have, little man?" the ogre said. "_Hmm_...not little man, little elf. More elves. Funny little elves..."

The tension seemed to get to Finn and he spoke loudly, his voice shaking.

"Listen—we're the best damn fighters you've seen. You just point, and it's dead. We've come a long way to...help."

"And why would you do that, my tall young piece of meat?" he replied, staring at Finn in a way that made Anna even more uncomfortable.

"Gold, what else?"

Tazok let out a laugh to shake the hut. He kept laughing. Anna stared at him. Was he mad, or was he toying with them? She was sure she saw a flash of recognition when he regarded Finn. Xan spoke again.

"We are mercenaries. We lend our aid to the strong. You are strong, we will crush your enemies."

The mage and hobgoblin commander looked at Xan in a puzzled way and said nothing. Tazok just rumbled again.

"Your numbers are growing lower, you need more allies," Xan continued, his voice cracking.

Tazok looked at him. Another short laugh escaped his belly but he was still.

"Maybe you're right. We could use extra mercenaries."

Anna relaxed somewhat but he continued, a sickening smile spreading over his wide face. He leaned forward, towering even over Finn.

"But tell me, little elf—_just how stupid do you think I am?"_

_..._

_"The fool...what has he done?"_


	39. A Game Before Dinner

"You aren't the first to try and play with Tazok's mind, little elf," the ogre said. He raised one of his razor-clawed gauntlets and drew an amulet from behind his breastplate. "Snapped the head off another smarty-smarty mage and took this pretty gem. You like it? I do."

Xan stared at the amulet and his face began to look sick.

"Brilliant. Nice plan, elf...'we'll just charm 'em all with our high cheekbones and bleedin' daisy chains!' You feckin'—" Montaron barked.

"Oh, I say—I quite like that," Xzar interrupted casually, gazing at the ogre's jewel. "It looks of Calishite design. Have you by chance been to Basheed's Mystic Arcade and Slave Emporium in Calimport? I saw something similar there many years ago. But now that I think of it, it might have been a hat."

Tazok gave the wizard a look but ignored his ramblings. No one else seemed to know what to do and the party all stood frozen as if charmed themselves. Should they attack? They might manage to kill Tazok but the first sounds of battle would draw the mercenaries into the tent within a second. They'd have no chance.

Tazok's laughter interrupted Anna's thoughts.

"This is a very good trick though, a good game! I like men of action. Much gold wasted in chasing you and you step right in, _Finn? _Oh yes, oh yes!"

Tazok roared again and Finn seemed to break from his trance, staring up at him with burning eyes.

"You've been trying to kill me. Tell me why, ogre."

"Not me. Do you think I care about one little pale man-thing? I just puts the order out. Great fun though, watching all them so-called assassins chasing their tails hunting you!"

Tazok sneered and Finn's mouth opened. Whatever answer he'd expected it clearly wasn't what the half-ogre put forth.

"_Who_ then? Why? What is this about?" Finn demanded, his pitch rising. The rest of the group shifted nervously.

"Meat don't ask questions," Tazok rumbled. "Not that I care. They hired me to work but I worked better than they ever thought. I don't need them no more, and they know it. _Hah!_"

He slapped his massive thigh and laughed once more.

"Commander? Who are these people?" Tazok's mage said, his eyes clearing from Xan's enchantment.

"Who are they? Entertainment! You listen and listen good, meat. Tazok don't care about you. But you landed on his lap and now he's gonna have some fun."

Finn muttered something and reached for his sword. Anna's stomach clenched as both sides swelled to fight but Tazok held up a hand, not flinching in the least. He regarded Finn with a grin more sinister than his sneer.

"I like you, meat. You got balls. So I give you a chance to fight. You against one of mine. You win, I let you go. You can run away knowing that Tazok don't care about your pale hide. But if you lose..." the ogre paused, showing inhumanly sharp yellow teeth. "You lose...you be on my plate. Momma always said never waste food, and damned if I do!"

Anna took a step back. She had little doubt that monster would carry through with his threat, and she wondered then if the skeletons outside were stripped of flesh by birds or something worse.

"That is madness," Jaheira said suddenly. "We will not play such games, no matter what your threats."

Tazok raised an eyebrow. "No? I got other games we could play, girl. Maybe later?"

Jaheira scowled back but said nothing.

"How about you tell me who you've been working for?" Finn said, staring at the ogre with a strange expression. His face seemed oddly calm but his eyes had a dark light.

"How about we talk it over at dinner?" Tazok sneered back in the manner of one who knew he held all the cards.

"Alright then, if you're into games," Finn replied. "I pick you."

Tazok laughed once more. "Good, meat. Keep it up, and I'll toss one of you into the pot alive. No, I like to watch. Who should it be? Who should it be? _Hmm..._"

"Lets me at 'em, Captain," the large hobgoblin growled. "I makes nice sausage out of his innards!"

"A tasty meal, though he don't look as sweet as that little elf you whacked. Nope, he fights...Taugosz. Meantime, take these whelps out back. We got no use for somebody stupid as them."

He gestured to the Black Talon guards. Before they could act the gnolls seized them, dragging the shouting and struggling men out of the hut.

"Is...that the best course, Commander?" the mage spoke hesitantly. "The Talon captain is still smarting from when you took the hobgoblins' side in that gambling matter...it won't make him very happy to kill more of his men. And tensions never have faded after that brawl between the orcs and the men last month. Tempers are still high."

Outside Anna heard the men's cries fading before quickly being cut off.

"He ain't paid to be happy, that man-thing's happy if I don't have his guts for garters! Too uppity he is, always talking about his precious Sembia. And it don't matter if the boys fight a little, weeds out the weaklings. Now keep your tongue for spells, Azan, less you want me to find it," Tazok said, and the mage made a hasty bow. "Make yourself useful and go set up the fun!"

Tazok bellowed and a number of guards rushed into the hut, surrounding the group, pushing them into a tight circle. Anna faced a halberd that a grinning gnoll levelled inches from her face and she heard Xan speak quietly to no one.

"I'm...sorry."

"It cannot be helped now," Jaheira replied, jerking away from a blade that explored her armour.

...

The party found themselves herded outside to a grassy area where the men and creatures of the camp were congregating in an excited mob. The rain stopped but the air was damp and heavy. Anna was surprised when Tazok declared they should keep their weapons, but then why should he worry? The few of them didn't look like much of a threat next to the crowd of bandits, she thought while trying to free herself from the hands and paws that roughly groped at her. She heard their lewd comments and laughter but they meant nothing to her, she'd gone numb.

"Get back, give 'em some air, boys!" Tazok shouted. He took a seat in a massive chair that was set onto the grass; even sitting down he seemed taller than most of the men.

The crowd separated, leaving an open circle of grass before the half-ogre. An orc grabbed Anna's shoulders and pulled her back. She saw vaguely that the party had all been set up in a line. To make them easier to kill? Despite the odds a part of her knew they should've attacked while they had a chance; Tazok would surely never let them go, no matter who won his little gladiator contest.

A cry went up from the crowd. Anna saw Taugosz pushing his way forward, shoving the smaller men and hobgoblins out of his way like stalks of wheat. He entered the circle and raised the massive hammer over his head, brandishing it to the approving calls of the bandits. His slow voice boomed words of bravado that Anna didn't hear. A gnoll pushed Finn forward hard, almost making him drop to his knees. The bandits cheered with laughter even as he straightened himself up and looked angrily at Tazok.

"All right, meat? You need a cane?" Tazok laughed, and the camp echoed his jeer.

Anna looked at her comrades. They were focused on Finn but she saw her same thoughts in their eyes. Only Jaheira returned her glance. The druid's mouth opened slightly and Anna saw her fear.

"Now, _fight!"_

_..._

Taugosz rushed forward with surprising speed, bringing the hammer down with a loud grunt. Finn dashed out of its way and it hit the earth with a dull thud, sinking into the wet grass. Finn struck into the half-ogre's leg but Anna heard the clattering sound of sword striking metal as he missed the narrow gap between armour and flesh.

The ogre took advantage and struck at Finn with his gauntlet, knocking him on the side of the head. Finn groaned with the force of the blow and fell to his knees, just rolling out of the way of another horrible hammer-strike. Somehow Finn managed to rise and Anna's stomach churned seeing his face covered in blood from the razored glove.

Finn let out a cry and launched an attack. He dodged the hammer, trying to stab his blade into the exposed spot in the ogre's underarm. His height made it an awkward blow and the blade only grazed him.

Taugosz laughed and charged at Finn again. The pair struck at each other, dancing around in the circle of shouting bandits who swapped bets and jokes at the scene. Neither seemed to be able to grab a firm advantage though and Anna could see that Finn was growing tired. His bloodied face dripped with sweat and he began to stumble on little clumps of grass. How could that ogre still seem so fresh, was he protected by enchantments as well?

Taugosz swung his hammer again, and Anna felt herself falling as it finally found a home against Finn's shoulder. He groaned and managed to swing around somehow, deflecting some of the force but it still sent him flying to the ground, his sword lost from his grasp. The ogre kicked him hard in the middle with his metal boot and Finn spat blood. He tried to roll away but the ogre landed another kick into his side, much to the bandits' amusement. Taugosz played to his audience, following Finn around the circle, taunting him while kicking and punching at him. He pretended to grow bored, leaving Finn curled up in a ball while he exchanged jokes with some of his comrades until Tazok barked at him to get on with business.

Finn managed to pull himself to his knees. Anna saw the blood dripping onto the grass, the pain in his face and could bear no more. She cried out and tried to dash forward but the orc caught her hands behind her back, his hot breath laughing in her ear. The bandits' shouting and mocking rang in her head, rushing together into a roar like a waterfall. Anna struggled and sent a shock into her captor. He swore and moved a hand to her throat, his big fist cutting off her breath. Through the gathering blackness she saw Taugosz walking up to Finn. He raised the hammer, priming it to strike his skull. He paused, looking for his captain's approval. Tazok grinned, his evil smile looking wider than his face. He held out a fist, then pointed his thumb down.

...

With her fading breath Anna made a last effort but suddenly the orc's hand dropped from her throat and she drew a deep gasp, feeling dizzy from the blood rushing back to her brain. The blackness cleared but she still struggled to make sense of what she saw.

Somehow Finn had risen from his knees. He screamed a monstrous cry that Anna had never heard from him before, even in the thick of battle. With a twisted face he lashed at the ogre without even bothering to pick up his dropped sword. Taugosz looked surprised and brought the hammer down, completely missing Finn. He jumped on the ogre and grabbed him by the throat. Taugosz wrapped his own arms around Finn's neck in turn, trying to pull him off.

With an animal growl Finn reached a hand over the ogre's eyes. Taugosz dropped Finn, raising his hands to his bloody face and screaming in utter agony. He leaned forward and Finn leaped on him again, this time taking up the ogre's own hammer and bashing it against the side of his head. His rough hair burst into a spongy mess of blood and as he fell to his knees Anna stared in horror at the dark, empty pools where his eyes had been.

Finn let out another horrible cry and brought the heavy hammer down with an almost impossible speed. It struck home and the ogre fell onto his face. Even Anna knew he was dead but Finn kept hitting him again and again, his strikes punctuated by that sickening cry. The jeering bandits fell quiet and the only sound was the dull noise of the hammer turning the ogre's head into pulp. Anna glanced at Imoen; the girl's wet eyes were wide and her mouth hung open as though a cry were frozen in her throat.

No one moved and even Tazok watched the scene with a quiet surprise, rubbing his thick fingers against his chin. Gradually the hammer strikes slowed, then stopped. Finn stared without expression at the mangled body of the massive half-ogre at his feet. The bloody hammer shaft slipped from his hands and he turned to Tazok.

"Well, meat—they were right about you, after all," the bandit leader said slowly, his expression almost approaching approval.

"I killed him," Finn said. His voice had a hollow, confused tone like a man woken from a dream.

"I hope so, otherwise he's gonna have one helluva headache in the morning!"

Tazok roared with laughter and the bandits seemed to relax again, echoing his mirth at the scene. But the half-ogre raised a hand against the twitters and jeers and called out with a smile.

"Right, who's next?"

...

Anna's knees went weak; he meant for them all to fight. He would exhaust them in duels and slaughter the ones who happened to survive. Pain was a game to him. She began to truly understand why Kivan had been so obsessed with taking revenge on his wife's murderer. Suddenly Tazok's mention of a dead elf and the new corpse nailed to the ogre's hut merged in her mind. Kivan had found Tazok, after all. A soft cry from her lips went unheard as the bandits put forth their pairings and swapped their coin. She became aware of another noise though, and the crowd parted once again as a group of Black Talon forced their way through. A tall, tanned man stepped forward and shouted over the din.

"Stop this damn circus right now!" he bellowed at Tazok. The bandits went quiet again, their eyes darting between the man and the ogre leader. "I want a word."

"Oh, manling?" the ogre's black eyes glittered.

"Yes. In your hut. Now," he demanded.

Tazok cocked his head. "I'm a bit busy just now, manling. You got something to say, then say it."

"Fine," the man replied. If the ogre's look phased him he didn't let it show. "You can play this here 'grind their bones to make my bread' routine all you want to scare the natives, but the Black Talon are a professional organisation. We were hired for a job and we've done it, always following orders even at a loss of men and a thousand other problems. But I'll be damned if anyone is going to treat my boys like a bunch of common street-trash thugs! If my men have done something wrong it's up to me to punish them, and punish them I will. We run a tight unit. But _nowhere_ in our contract does it say you've got the right to execute them! And I should know, I signed it myself. I told you before, Tazok, and the Talon aren't going to stand any more of this."

Anna stared at the man. He was either the bravest fellow she'd encountered or one of the most foolish. A ripple went through the crowd of bandits and she noticed for the first time that a sizable number of them wore the colours of the Black Talon.

"And I told you, Rashel, this is my camp. Your sissy rules don't apply unless they don't cross mine."

"_Your_ rules? Your camp? You don't outrank me, Tazok, and despite your fondness for headhunting you know it. You may have cowed this rabble but the Throne hired us, not you. And as the ranking Talon officer in this region you can bet your hairy arse I'm going to take it up with them, and gods help them if they don't cough up compensation."

The Black Talon in the crowd muttered an approval of their commander's words. Tazok just laughed.

"Go ahead! You see them, give 'em a message—tell 'em they can line up to lick my balls. I don't owe them a damn thing. I came to the arse-crack of nowhere, raised an army, and took all I got by force. I _earned_ it, and now you think I'm just going to hand it over to them soft beggars in their silky robes? No!"

"You're a bloody fool, Tazok," Rashel replied. "I told Anchev, but would he listen? Can't trust an ogre, I said, all they want to do is spill guts. This mess has gone far beyond orders—disable the mine, divert the trade, get out. But you need to near start a bloody war! At this rate the Talon will be lucky if the Dukes don't take up action with Sembia demanding all our heads on a plate. As it is we're already sentenced to hang a few hundred times over!"

"Poor little Rashel, worried about his thin skin," Tazok purred.

"Course I'm worried, you thick bastard!" the Talon captain bellowed back. "Unlike you I've got the smarts to see what way the wind's blowing. You've been so busy setting yourself up as a little bandit king that you haven't noticed the Gate is moving against you. They're closing in and your ugly head's going to be hanging from the Wyrm's Crossing by the autumn, mark my words."

Tazok's scowl had been deepening while the man made his speech and Anna slowly became aware that the crowd had shifted more, with a group of the ogre's men quietly surrounding the Talon leader and his men. Her comrades glanced at each other, and at Finn who remained standing over Taugosz' corpse. Anna felt the tension rising in the crowd. Her orc captor seemed to pay her no more heed watching the exchange between the captains and she subtly moved her hands away from his grasp.

"And ain't he one of the fellows they'd had a bounty on?" Rashel continued, seemingly noticing Finn for the first time. "And what do you do? Play your damn sick cat-and-mouse games stead of killing him outright like you should. Ogres, I said, they can't follow orders for nothing—"

"_Ssst_, pally, I'm thinking we're gonna be the least of yer troubles soon, eh?" Montaron hissed up at the captain who stood near to him. "Give us a hand, maybe we'll help you out n'all."

"Quiet, shrimp," the captain muttered back, though he looked around the camp with a grim face. "But what the hells. You can do what you want with them, Tazok, and face the consequences. I'm pulling my men out. I've never backed out of a job before, but as far as I'm concerned the Throne voided our contract the minute they hired you. Come on, boys, grab your kit. We're leaving."

The captain turned away from Tazok and the rest of the Black Talon moved to follow him. Before Tazok could say anything Anna saw Montaron's hand move swiftly. A hobgoblin standing next to the halfling suddenly let out a piercing cry, and she saw blood trickling from the back of one hairy leg. The crowd turned to the hobgoblin and Montaron shouted.

"It were him!"

A small finger pointed at a Talon mercenary that stood next to the hobgoblin, the mercenary somehow holding Montaron's bloodied stiletto in his hand. The mercenary stared at Montaron in disbelief, but had no time to speak before the hobgoblin lunged at him with his sword.

"I gets my coin back from your flesh, pale man!" the creature shouted.

...

Before Anna could think a surge of men and demi-humans began to grapple with each other as the camp tensions finally burst. The Talon captain shouted something but his words were lost in the melee. Hairy hands struck at her nearly knocking her off her feet but before she could cast a spell they were gone. In a daze she realised that the bandits and the mercenaries were paying the group no heed.

"Run!" a voice said in her ear, and her arm jerked again as Khalid grabbed her and pulled her away from the brawl. She saw Jaheira dragging Imoen along but the others were lost to her in the crowd.

"Where's Finn?" Imoen cried once they were clear. Tazok's perch was empty and the ogre's head bobbed as he swung his massive blade down.

Anna spoke and found herself focusing on a battling gnoll as she felt the Weave begin to flex under her command. It undulated and several gnolls appeared on the field in a flash of light, attacking their kin at her subconscious direction. She'd never managed to summon gnolls before.

Jaheira likewise threw her hands in the air, appealing to Silvanus. The clouds overhead rippled as the druid's spell combined with the already wild weather, sending a gust of wind howling through the trees while sick grey mammatus clouds formed in the darkening sky. A streak of white fire shot from above, driving the crowd apart with the lightning's strike.

"We must help them, we must get out of here while the bandits are still concerned with each other," Jaheira said, breathless.

"Y-you and Imoen s-stay out h-here," Khalid said to Anna. "C-cast whatever spells you c-can. If you see us signal, t-take to the trees!"

The couple ran into the melee before either woman could say a word. Anna raised her hands again, sending Catherine wheels exploding over the band in a series of strange lights and hoping the ensuing confusion would help her comrades.

"Are we just supposed to stand here?" Imoen asked. "They could be dead for all we know!"

"You're right," Anna said. "I'm going in. Stay here, and try to hide!"

"Don't leave me!" Imoen cried, but Anna was already invisible.

She didn't want to leave Imoen on her own but the number of spells she could cast while her friends were buried within the mob was limited. She circled the melee that began to spread out over the camp as the old grudges and bloodlust took their toll. Bodies of men and demi-humans lay scattered around and the cries of the dying filled her ears. She saw Khalid and Jaheira in battle but her heart jumped in thanks when she saw Finn alive and fighting a hobgoblin.

Despite their hopes to flee the carnage she knew well enough they wouldn't just be able to walk away. Taking refuge between some crates and a hut to shield herself from whizzing arrows she cast another spell of summons, releasing only wolves this time. After hiding for a moment to ensure that no one had noticed her she leaned out and carefully targeted a group of bandits with a holding incantation.

Jaheira's storm took full effect and lashes of rain began to strike the ground, a rumble of thunder rolling across the sky. Anna was about to cast another spell when a pair of orcs appeared, pausing just beside her sheltering crates. Anna froze but her eyes rested on the hide door-flap of the hut. She could reach it if she moved swiftly. Silently she rose and dashed inside with the hope that no bandits were within.

...

The interior of the hut was dim with only a small amount of light coming from the narrow gap between the wall-covering and the ground. Nearly the entire space was covered by bags and crates; the bandits must use the hut as storage, she thought. Listening to the rain drumming on the roof she gathered herself, knowing she was needed outside. A pity there wasn't more light—there was a good chance that potions or other magic might be stored there. She took a step closer and inadvertently let out a frightened cry as her foot stumbled across something that moved. An answering groan drifted up and Anna jumped back. Had she somehow woken a guard?

"_Nandor," _the voice rasped. "_lle qualmuva."_

The figure shifted slightly and Anna went down on her knees.

_"Kivan!"_ she exclaimed.

It was indeed the elf. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she saw that he was bound hand and foot to the heavy support pillar, his body twisted backwards into a crescent shape. His clothing had been stripped away and even in that light she saw the marks of violence on his body.

Anna called to him again but he only muttered more vague threats in Elvish. She drew a potion of healing from her bag and brought it to his mouth but he kept turning his head, sputtering against the imagined poison.

"Kivan—it's me, it's Anna. _Mellonealle, lye na sinome. Yuna sina, yuna sina_."

The Elvish had the effect she'd hoped and she managed to get him to drink. As soon as the potion took effect he jerked his head off the ground, struggling against his binds.

"Anna..._mani? _Where is he? Where is the beast?"

His voice still sounded thick and confused. Anna leaned over and slit the ropes with her dagger carefully as she could against his struggling.

"Tazok is here...the bandits are fighting each other. We need to get out."

She helped him rise and he stumbled on his feet, leaning against the pole and breathing heavily. She offered him another potion but he shook his head.

"Kivan, you can barely stand and we might need to fight. Take it, please," Anna said shortly.

He gave her a look but drank the contents.

"Let us fight, then," he said, wiping his mouth.

"Yes, but—you aren't armed, and you don't have any, ah..." she said, trailing off and quickly lowering her eyes to the ground.

"Spare me your dagger then, and do not concern yourself about the other, _arwenamin_," he replied. Anna handed him the weapon and didn't argue further.

...

She followed him out of the hut and back into the rain. The battle was now all over the camp, neither group willing to give quarter.

"Where is he?" Kivan repeated, whether to himself or her Anna couldn't tell.

"Tazok? I don't know, perhaps he's fallen," she said, hoping to herself.

"No. He lives. I know he lives, and I will find him!"

Anna looked at his determined face covered with smeared paint and old blood.

"Kivan, we'll find him. But we need to—"

"_Shevarash!"_

She started as he shouted and leaped forward, charging at an unfortunate hobgoblin that came rushing around the storehouse. The creature paused, taken aback by the strange vision of an elf that faced him and Kivan took advantage, driving the dagger mercilessly into his throat. He withdrew the red steel, looked around the camp, and dashed away before the creature even hit the ground.

Anna began to call after him but it died in her throat. Where was everyone? She could see none of her comrades either standing or among the fallen. Had they run after all? Even Kivan was now lost from her sight.

She knew she couldn't stand about though so she cast a shield against the stray arrows that still pierced the air and hurried off cautiously in search of her friends.

...

A Talon mercenary surprised her and laid in an attack with his sword. With a cry Anna's staff parried the blade and she sent a missile flying to her opponent. He screamed out and fell to his knees, swearing violently at her. She looked for a second at the man clutching at his burned face then ran onwards.

Dashing around a hut she stopped in her tracks at a threatening blue-white streak of flame but caught her breath again as Xan lowered his blade.

"Anna—! _Seldarine_," he breathed, startled as she. "This is chaos. Thank Corellon they seem to hate one another more than us."

"Where are the others? Have you seen Kivan?" Anna asked, looking around as Xan pulled her nearer the hut for shelter.

"Kivan?" he asked, his eyes widening. "Why—"

"He was here. I found him in a hut, he was hurt badly...I healed him but he ran off, looking for Tazok," Anna interrupted.

"Merciful—that is not good. I have no idea where the ogre is, and I was happy not knowing. I last saw him ploughing through a band of mercenaries as if they were made of dust. We need to find him."

"Yes, but he could be anywhere!"

"Wait, just wait..."

He shut his eyes and stood silently for what Anna thought was a very long time as she nervously looked around for enemies. Finally his eyes flashed open.

"This way," he called, sheathing his blade and hurrying away.

...

The rain slapped Anna's face as she ran after him, sending a quick spell into any bandits that threatened. She felt a strange relief seeing Montaron and Xzar engaging a few enemies at the edge of the camp but still worried that she saw no one else.

Xan ran into the woods, pausing now and then before hurrying onwards. Anna didn't need his senses though to hear the scream that punctuated the trees.

If the ogre had fled to the woods to escape the battle his plan failed. Blood from scratches and sword-cuts covered Kivan's body but he paid no heed as he swung wildly at Tazok with his dagger. The ogre slashed at him with his clawed gauntlet, catching Kivan full across the chest. He cried out and fell back but somehow stayed on his feet.

"_He is mine!"_ Kivan cried, noticing his comrades. "_He is mine_."

The elf had somehow managed to cut the leather straps that bound Tazok's armour, making it swing from the ogre's chest in a way that bizarrely reminded Anna of her damaged pack. He threw it aside with a growl, sending the massive breastplate clanging to the ground. Kivan took his chance. He stabbed the ogre violently, striking him underneath the ribs. He groaned and Anna saw dark blood flowing but he threw the elf off. Kivan landed on his back, the wet dagger slipping out of his grasp.

"Stupid elf," he hissed. "You think that little tooth is long enough to bite me? Your she-elf was lots more fun to play with, smarter too. Don't know why I bothered keeping you. You ain't even got a pussy."

Kivan glared up at the ogre and growled something Anna couldn't hear. Tazok bent over the elf and lifted him by the throat. Anna and Xan dashed forward but suddenly Tazok screamed, a horrible, gurgling noise. She stopped in her tracks. Kivan seemed to have his arms around the ogre, but confused she saw that one arm was missing. The missing arm jerked and Tazok screamed again, slashing at the elf with his gauntlet. The realisation hit her and she felt a chill of horror rise along her spine.

The elf bellowed, appealing to his god. His arm jerked again and came free of the gash in the ogre's abdomen. Tazok made a sick noise and collapsed with the elf still clinging to his body.

Kivan lay still for a moment, then dragged himself shakily to his feet. His arm was slick with blood, and he held something in his fist that looked like a quivering wet bag. Anna's stomach turned realising it was the ogre's heart.

...

Kivan turned to them, the paint melting and running down his face and neck. He raised the ogre's dripping heart and drew his free hand over his face, smearing the paint, colouring his face entirely in black. His long hair was soaked with rain and it clung to his bleeding back.

"_Shevarash_—" he called in Elvish to the trees. "_Your servant...revenge!_"

He collapsed onto the ground. Anna and Xan ran to where he lay and Xan gently turned him onto his back.

"He is dead. He is dead. _Deheriana_," Kivan repeated in his tongue.

He spoke raggedly and his eyes were glazed but a small smile stayed on his mouth, savouring the last word as if it were sweet water in a desert.

"Soon...beloved."

He seemed to notice Xan over him and spoke. "My friend…rejoice, I go…"

Xan cleared his throat, his own voice sounding dry.

"Yes…go in peace. May the Lady of Dreams guide your journey."

Anna crouched down next to the wounded elf, fumbling in her bag for the strongest healing potion she possessed. Surprisingly, Xan reached out and caught her hand.

"No, Anna…let him go," he said quietly.

"What?" She threw off the elf's hand and pulled out the potion.

"Listen to me—"

"_Xan!_" Anna cried out as the enchanter tried to take the wet bottle from her grasp. They struggled for a moment, Anna refusing to let the bottle slip from her hands.

"He wants to go!" he said finally. "Let him go in peace, our arguing may disrupt his spirit—"

"What are you talking about?" she cried again, uncorking the bottle and trying to place the rim in Kivan's mouth.

"You are not an elf, you can't understand! Now heed me," the enchanter said, his volume rising as he pushed the bottle away, spilling some of the contents down Kivan's neck.

Anna clutched the bottle to her chest and stared at Xan. His soaked hair stuck to his face, the rain running like tears down his cheeks. His grey eyes were open and still. His mouth parted slightly and Anna's slowly closed. She looked at the bleeding elf who lay on the grass, clinging with barely a thread to life. Moving swiftly she emptied the bottle into Kivan's mouth. Xan sighed quietly but shook his head and said nothing more.

...

Kivan sputtered and coughed, his eyes flashing open. He looked around in shock at Xan, then Anna.

"_No—what…what have you done?_"

"_Mellonamin—"_ Xan began.

"Near! I was so near! _Deheriana_—after all these years of hunting, rest…"

He trailed off, looking around in confusion.

"You were dying…" Anna stammered, frightened of Kivan's outburst. "I only wanted to heal you..."

"You—you kept me from my beloved?"

Though still badly injured he bellowed with rage, grasping Anna's forearm in a tight, bloody fist.

"Kivan, no…" the enchanter said quickly. "She is human, she did not know. It is my fault for not stopping her."

He leaned forward and laid his hand on Kivan's arm. He didn't relax his grip but stared intensely into Anna's frightened eyes.

"Kivan…I…"

The ranger hissed an elvish curse and lifted himself up from the ground, pulling Anna with him but she managed to twist free of his grasp and jumped back.

"You did this...you..."

He stared at her with black eyes. Anna glanced at Xan but he said nothing to her as he nervously regarded his kin, speaking quiet words of calm. Kivan stumbled forward and Anna jumped back again but his target was the dagger on the grass.

"You did this," he repeated, raising the stained dagger. "You will not—"

Anna didn't wait to hear what Kivan said as he lunged at her, stumbling in his injury. She heard Xan cry out and swiftly she turned, running blindly into the forest.

...

_"Coward...you will die in pain."  
"Your friends are here. Drink this, drink this."_


	40. Healing

Anna fled fast as her feet would take her. She knew she couldn't outrun Kivan but hoped his weakened state would stop him chasing her very far. The bushes and branches scratched at her face but she didn't look back. Suddenly she felt a tight grip on her arm and stumbled into a tree. She looked up and saw the elf, his face black with rage and wild with blood and smeared paint.

Anna shrank up against the trunk. She was sure he meant harm yet somehow she couldn't raise her hands against him. She thought of the times her magic had turned a man into a melted monstrosity and she couldn't cast a spell.

Kivan caught her by the neck and Anna gasped as he raised the bloody dagger. Her hands flew up instinctively but instead of attacking he held the knife out by the hilt.

"Take it," he said. Anna hesitated and said nothing.

"Take it!" he commanded again, and she took the dagger from his grasp with a shaking hand.

"Strike," he said, staring hard into her eyes.

"What?" Anna stammered.

"Strike the blade into my heart." He spoke with a strange levelness, as if it was an ordinary task.

"_What?_ No!"

"You denied me Arvandor. You denied me Deheriana. My revenge is complete, nothing more holds me to this world. I cannot use the blade myself without being denied paradise. You will do this!"

Anna stared at the elf. Emotion crackled in his eyes but he seemed frighteningly composed.

"_Kivan!_"

Anna looked to see Xan forcing his way through the shrubbery.

"Stop this, my friend," the breathless enchanter said in Elvish.

"No, my lord. I will go to Arvandor this day. I will not be kept from her any longer!"

Anna looked at Xan, still holding the dagger in her shaking hand. His mouth opened and his eyes ran between her and Kivan.

"Do you really want Anna to do this? Do you want her to end your life? She is a friend, you would not want her to bear such a thing."

"No friend would keep another from paradise," Kivan replied.

"She is just a human, a child. They don't understand. She was only trying to aid you. You know this."

"Why should she not know?" he said. "She knew my wife was in heaven, I told her...I told her of my pain..."

His gaze drifted into the ether and his voice began to shake. Anna stood frozen and said nothing.

"Yes, but it is different with them," Xan continued quietly. "They do not bond as we do. She would not have thought that you did not want to remain in this world. You know these things. You will only harm her, and your spirit if you force her to take your life."

Kivan shut his eyes and a shudder went through his body.

"I was so close...near enough to touch...why? Shevarash, why? I did what I swore, it was the end..."

He released Anna and ran his hands through his wet hair, his fingers constricting at his temples.

"Kivan…be calm, my friend."

Xan reached out and placed his palm on the elf's forehead. Kivan shut his eyes again and made a sound like a man pulling a knife from his gut, the pain of his long injury finally creeping out of his eyes and down his already wet cheeks. Anna's middle didn't stop shaking and she slid down the tree and curled up on the grass.

...

She followed along behind the elves as they circled the camp, staying in the trees to keep from drawing enemy fire. There was little to draw; most of the bandits lay dead on the ground or had fled to woods seeking opponents or running for their lives. Her comrades were still nowhere to be seen and Anna fretted to herself as the elves went whispering together in their tongue, paying her little heed. She glanced at Kivan who'd donned Xan's cloak and walked like a grey ghost through the trees. The elf accepted more healing and managed to compose himself somehow in the face of further battle but she couldn't help flinching whenever his gaze met hers.

Suddenly she paused, her eye drawn to something in the camp. Amongst the corpses she saw a soft flutter of purple waving over a body on the grass. Her heart went cold—it was the kerchief Imoen wore over her hair. She spoke something to the elves and rushed in the direction of the girl, her cloak flying out behind her as she ran.

Reaching her Anna crouched down and held out a hesitant hand. Imoen lay on her face, one arm stretched forward as though she'd been crawling when she collapsed. Two arrows pierced her leather jacket at her back, their feathers quivering in the wind. She lay unnaturally still with her face cast in a greenish hue from the horrible poisoned arrows.

"_Imoen—gods, no...I am so sorry_."

It was her fault. Anna had left the poor girl alone and frightened. She forced herself to touch her pale cheek, expecting her to be cold but the girl's skin was still warm. She must have fallen not long ago.

"What is—?" she heard Xan say, and looked up to see him leaning over. "Oh, Corellon...why was that child ever allowed to fight?"

He shook his head and let out a long sigh. Kivan said nothing but kneeled over Imoen and touched his fingers to her neck. He muttered something then quickly slid his hand to her forehead. He spoke a few words and Anna's mouth fell open as Imoen let out a weak moan.

"Did neither of you think to see if she was dead before burying her with your words?" Kivan said. "She needs your potions."

"I don't have any more elixirs of healing," Anna said.

"Nor do I," Xan replied.

Kivan grumbled again and glanced around the camp for enemies. Imoen's hand slid across the grass as she tried to rise but she cried out in pain.

"Lay still," he said to her.

Using Anna's dagger he cut her jacket away from the arrows, the enchanted steel slicing through the leather with ease. He carefully felt the wounds, his fingers sliding over her bloody shirt.

"Not deep, I think. The poison was the greater foe but we must remove the arrows before they cause more harm. I will need a dressing—do you have _fallanasalque_?"

Xan responded in the negative but Anna stared blankly.

"Healing grass? You mean the marsh moss?" she said finally, and Kivan nodded. "I don't have any, but I have a kerchief you could use."

"There is too much blood," he said, cutting Imoen's tunic and examining the punctures. "Arrows leave a small mark but she must have tried to pull them out, injuring herself more."

"I know the moss you mean. I will bring you some," Anna said, rising from the ground.

"If Kivan thinks it necessary," Xan replied. "But at least cast invisibility on yourself if you plan on wandering through the woods—we do not need to go hunting for a second casualty."

Anna let out a breath and watched as her body disappeared. She lit off into the trees once more, hoping to find her prize close by. The plant was common enough in the damp areas of the region and the forests north of the Friendly Arm were dotted with small ponds and bogs. The mosquitoes and other biting insects had driven her to distraction but she thought now there was at least some advantage to the terrain.

...

The forest thinned ahead and she slowed approaching a broad, flat opening. A few grey skeletons of trees that grew before the wet triumphed still dotted the meadow, their bony branches held out like warning gestures to would-be trespassers. Anna had little choice though. Using her staff to feel the earth she stepped cautiously onto the bog. The moss underfoot was thick and springy and her feet bounced as she walked.

She cursed as her foot found a hole and she slipped down, feeling the amber-black water filling her boot and soaking her robe. Thankfully it wasn't deep and she managed to hoist herself out again. She leaned on her staff for a moment looking around at the line of trees that circled the empty meadow. Across the bog a pair of crows rose up, puncturing the silence with their sharp caws. Drawing another breath she thought of Imoen and forced herself to move on.

She found the mosses she sought and kneeled carefully on the damp mass of plants. She sliced away the moss with her knife, hastily gathering up several fistfuls of the sponginess and stowing them in a pouch. She rose up but in her hurry she slipped into another hole, falling in to her waist. Aggressively she dragged herself out, paying little heed to the mud and black water that now soaked her nearly from head to foot. She'd long since become visible but ran the rest of the way to the camp.

Emerging from the trees she was startled to find that her comrades had disappeared but before she had time to worry she heard her name called from the ether. She ran to the spot where Imoen had lain and suddenly her friends appeared before her eyes.

...

"Apologies for the invisibility globe but it shelters us from prying eyes, if not flying arrows," Xan said. "Did you find the _fallanasalque_? I hope you didn't encounter trouble."

He ran his eyes over her muddy robe but Anna shook her head and handed Kivan the pouch. Imoen still lay on her back but her red eyes were opened and frightened-looking.

Kivan squeezed the water from the plants and told Imoen to hold still. She bit her lip and whimpered as the elf carefully pulled the arrows from her body and blocked the bleeding wounds with the moss.

"It needs a bandage, but we cannot remain here," Kivan said. "Can you rise?"

"No," Imoen whispered.

"Come," he replied.

He lifted her from the ground and helped her to her feet. She was wobbly and pale but when she glanced down at Kivan's cloak a shadow of her old expression came over her face, making Anna feel that she would recover. She was weak from shock and blood loss though and leaned heavily on Anna, stumbling along as she tried to walk.

"Here," Kivan said, stopping alongside a hut.

He ducked in to see if any bandits were sheltering there then directed the women inside. The interior was dim and had a musty animal odour but Imoen would be safe there provided no enemies returned.

"You remain with her," Kivan said briefly to Anna. "Xan and I will continue on the hunt."

"Alright," she replied, avoiding his eyes.

"Are you ready, _heruamin?"_ Kivan asked.

"Likely not," Xan sighed. "But let us continue just the same."

The elves hurried away and Anna helped Imoen to a rough blanket that covered the grass.

"Ugh, it smells like dog," the girl said, her voice rough and quiet. "I'll get fleas for sure."

"_Shh, _don't worry about that," Anna said, folding some of the blanket to act like a pillow for her chin.

"I feel sick," Imoen groaned.

"Be sick if you need to. Do you want some water?"

Imoen nodded and managed a few sips from Anna's waterskin. The mage checked the girl's wounds; without decent light it was hard to tell but it seemed like most of the bleeding had stopped.

"Have you seen Finn?" Imoen asked.

"Not recently, but I'm sure he'll be fine. Rest now," Anna said, more confidence in her voice than her heart.

"Kivan's here, too? That's good. But did he forget to get dressed this morning?" Imoen continued, trying to laugh but ending in a cough of pain.

"He killed Tazok," Anna replied quietly. "Imoen...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For leaving you on your own. I didn't want to but I thought they needed my help."

"I don't need nursemaiding," she croaked defensively. "At least, I shouldn't. You did what you had to."

"I know, but still...I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. My spell of reflected image worked though, you know? And I killed two bandits. Both men. I aimed and, _thump_. Dead. _Thump_. Dead. Pretty good, no?"

Imoen coughed and Anna told her again to rest. Hearing Imoen boasting about killing in such a matter-of-fact way disquieted her somehow and she didn't respond. Imoen stayed quiet and lay still, her breath rattling slightly. Anna pulled her knees to her chest and waited for whoever would come.

...

She sat in the stinking hut for what seemed like hours, listening to Imoen's breathing and the occasional distant cry. She fought against the urge to slip away and find the others knowing well she couldn't leave the girl alone in her state. Instead she touched her amulet and prayed in silence.

Her heart jumped as the door-flap slid aside of its own volition, stabbing her eyes with grey daylight. She heard a word of cancellation and Xan materialised.

"How does she fare?" he asked, looking at the sleeping Imoen.

"Well enough," Anna replied, swallowing her heart again. "What news?"

"Better than I might have hoped. The remaining mercenaries seem to have fled and our feeble band somehow all managed to stay breathing. Not without injury though—Jaheira is struggling to apply her gifts, I fear. I'm worried that the bandits are regrouping and we may yet find ourselves overwhelmed."

He spoke with a typical sigh but Anna noticed it had a more ragged edge than usual and he kept clutching at his arm as he sat down hard.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"You have a keen grasp of the obvious. A hobgoblin was slightly quicker with his blade than I was."

"Has Jaheira not seen to it?" Anna said, ignoring his sarcasm.

"She is preoccupied with worse injuries, as I just said. I've bandaged it though and am in no immediate danger of expiring, thank you."

"Who else is injured?" she asked quickly.

"Who is not might be a simpler question. In fact, you seem to be the only one who's managed to escape unharmed."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Xan sighed. He paused, feeling his tender arm. "If anyone should feel guilty, it is me. I walked us into this absurd situation. I thought I had a chance. More fool I."

"It's not like there was an easy way into this camp. You only did what you thought best," Anna replied.

"Yes, and that is the trouble. It was too much to take on, and a part of me knew that. My experience should have taught me to be wiser. Seldarine, I have felt scarcely able to stand at times since my imprisonment, but I hadn't thought it was affecting my judgement as well. It is a frightening thought."

"Don't you think you're reading too much into it?" Anna replied. "It was an error of judgement, is all. You're—"

She began to say he was only human but stopped in time. Xan looked at her.

"Only an error of judgement? What worse mistake could there be? My profession demands control, both as a Greycloak and an enchanter. And my blade is constantly judging my actions—it could slay me at any time if it deemed me unworthy. I cannot afford to be lax, Anna. My judgement is all I have."

"Is that why you're so uptight all the time?"

Imoen stirred on her blanket and the elf gave her a pointed look.

"If you wish to put it that way, then yes."

Imoen let out something that sounded like a whistle and Anna went to her.

"How are you feeling?"

"All right. I think I'll just lie here, though. I feel like I did after that party in Nashkel."

Anna found herself smiling at the memory. "Jaheira should be here soon. And Xan said that everyone's alive, too."

"I heard. That's good," Imoen said, still rasping. "Have we won, then?"

"I suppose we have," Anna replied.

The idea seemed alien even to her. Xan groaned low and clutched at his arm, and after a few silent minutes the hut flap parted again as Jaheira stepped inside.

...

Anna soon learned that the elf hadn't exaggerated the party's injuries. Despite the bandits turning on each other they had found themselves in close combat again and again, the repeated skirmishes taking their toll. They quickly exhausted their supply of precious healing potions and whatever the bandits had they made use of themselves. The blessings of Silvanus were saved for healing only the worst wounds.

"W-we have little ch-choice but to remain here," Khalid said, feeling at the bloodied bandage that circled his head and covered one eye. "The b-bandits have supplies, and w-we need rest."

Jaheira looked at him while adjusting his arm-sling as best she could. Though she didn't know the details Anna noticed the druid winced whenever she tried to raise her arms above her waist.

"I agree we are not hale enough to travel far, but this place feels too exposed. There are still bandits in the woods and they might return at any time. We wouldn't last another battle."

"Their c-commanders have f-fallen, they might find it wiser to stay in the h-hills."

Jaheira pursed her lips and carried on with her ministrations. A fire made the hut lighter but the smell hadn't improved any, Anna thought as she soaked a linen cloth in a bowl of marigold flowers and comfrey root. She wrung out the steaming water and folded it into a square packet of herbs.

"I think Jaheira's right," Finn said, flinching a little as Anna pressed the hot cloth against his bruised face. "They'll want their stuff back or get curious. We can't stay here too long."

He took the compress from Anna with a pained smile. Still glowing with the relief of seeing him alive and mostly in one piece she gave him a quick kiss on the nose. He drew her closer with his other arm, throwing off her balance as she crouched before him and landing her squarely on his lap.

"It w-will be dark soon. We can put on a guard and h-hope for the best," Khalid replied.

"You are ever an optimist, good husband," Jaheira said, and Khalid gave her a crooked grin. "But perhaps you are right. The bandits may well think the authorities are not far on our heels and they may not risk returning. And we will need time to search Tazok's possessions to see if there is any clue as to who hired _him_."

"That Talon officer mentioned a throne," Anna said, pulling herself up with a little smile. "A monarch? Amn has no king, and neither does Sembia. Who did he mean?"

She took up a cloth and pulled the pot from the fire, carefully pouring boiling water over chipped oak bark to make a bath that would keep their wounds from turning foul.

"I do not know," Jaheira sighed. "This blasted affair seems only to resolve itself by revealing more puzzles."

"And more of our innards," Finn interjected.

"You especially should consider yourself lucky to be alive," Jaheira said, shaking her head. "With that beating the ogre gave you... I can't see how you even managed to rise from your knees, and yet you seem to have nothing but mere bruises."

"Yeah, and thanks for jumping in there," Finn replied.

Jaheira glared at him. "There was little we could do—if we attacked the entire camp would have been at our throats in a moment. Do you think it was easy to be helpless, to watch you nearly being bludgeoned to death?"

"I know," he said, looking at the ground. "To be honest, I'm glad you didn't."

Jaheira seemed taken slightly aback by his earnest response and left her husband to tend to Imoen. The girl was ghostly and Jaheira kept her lying on her back with her legs propped up on a bedroll, but she still managed the effort of chirping a comment now and then. Khalid rose and stumbled out of the hut with a groan. Anna freshened Finn's compress and he took her free hand as her fingers hovered over the fresh scars that Taugosz' gauntlet had left on his temple.

"Nice, huh? This keeps up I'm going to lose all my boyish good looks," he said.

Anna looked at him and saw he was grinning a little.

"Jaheira was right," she answered quietly, touching his face. "It's remarkable you weren't hurt worse."

"Well, I think my special skills might've had something to do with that," he said low. "After he'd hit me I'd feel like I was breaking apart, but then I started to feel—warm, somehow. I still felt like death but I know it kept me alive."

"That almost sounds like—regeneration?" Anna whispered.

"You might be right."

Anna shook her head.

"Finn, this—it's gone too far. You need to tell someone. I've thought it over again and again, but I can't think of any reason why you'd be able to do this. Not unless..." she trailed off, but continued. "And that your powers come to you in dreams, no—nightmares. Something is wrong, and you can't ignore it."

She caressed his hand earnestly but he frowned.

"Why should anything be wrong? I admit it's not exactly natural, but it's only helped me so far. It's helped you, remember? Maybe it's a gift of some kind."

"A gift from whom? And for what reason?"

"I don't know. But what were you going to say?"

"Nothing," she said quickly.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing...I should see if the others need aid."

Anna gave him another quick kiss and headed out of the tent into the fading daylight. The clouds had broken and the setting sun coloured the billowing columns a deep pink. She could not bring herself to say that the only real answer she could think of was that somehow, he wasn't entirely—human. That conclusion still made little sense and she tried to brush it aside but it hung in the corner of her mind, pricking at her.

...

Outside she saw Montaron standing with his arms folded, watching Xzar hovering over a bandit's body.

"He's like a kid in a sweet shop, him," the halfling said, looking up as she passed. "Never could get used to that. I don't wanna think on all the ghosts we must have following us about."

Anna watched the wizard but had little to say; necromancy was a frightening art and the less she learned of it the better. She heard voices from across the camp and followed them up to Tazok's hut. She saw Kivan dressed now in some found clothing and clinging to the support poles of the hut. He sliced at the bonds that held the fresh corpse and an ill-faced but serious Xan waited beneath with a blanket to help lower the body to the ground.

"What are they doing?" Anna asked Khalid, trying to keep her eyes off the foulness of the corpse.

"Kivan said h-he was an elf."

Anna shuddered, remembering Tazok's words.

"How did he find himself in the ogre's clutches? Was he working for him somehow?"

"He was not," Kivan said. "I know not what brought him here. He was captured some days after myself and refused to answer the beast's questions no matter how he tortured him. He forced me to watch...he said it might bring back fond memories. Finally they grew tired of the game and gutted him alive. But working with the _uuvanimo_ he was not."

Anna looked away from his pointed stare and said nothing.

"He could have been anyone. We are not the only ones interested in this wretched business," Xan sighed. "But I am sorry we only arrived in time to bury our kin."

Kivan hopped to the ground and helped the enchanter wrap the corpse in the woollen material.

"What about the others, are you not going to cut them down as well?" Anna said suddenly, her voice a bit sharp.

"Of course," Kivan replied, looking at her.

"Whoever h-hired that ogre must have been a f-fool, or mad," Khalid said.

"Or desperate," Anna offered.

"Probably a combination of the three," Xan said. "I saw some papers in the ogre's hut when we first encountered him—he appeared to be using them for kindling. I suppose it will be too much to hope that they might shed some light onto this darkness."

"Perhaps, _mellonamin._ But for now, let our thoughts be on these departed ones," Kivan said.

Anna sighed and folded her arms into her muddy sleeves, looking away at the sky. In the deepening blue between the clouds one, then two soft lights appeared and flickered in silence.

...

Later they searched the ogre's hut by lantern-light. It was musty and eerie in the dancing light and Anna kept glancing behind her for some reason. Housekeeping clearly wasn't part of Tazok's agenda and his affairs were in more of a disarray than the departed half-orc Mulahey. Still they found some fine quality weapons and a fair cache of gold in a half-buried metal chest, the ogre apparently helping himself to the finest spoils whether he had use for them or not.

Anna looked up quickly hearing Kivan let out an excited cry. He held a large piece of fabric up before him, praising it in Elvish. Anna was puzzled but it dawned on her that the ragged material was his old cloak. Watching him wrap it once more around his shoulders she wondered why he should be so excited to recover the tattered garment.

The papers Xan mentioned were found scattered around the hut in such a haphazard fashion that Anna wondered if it wasn't deliberate. Most were damaged; some were burnt, some stained with drink or other blots, others crumpled to near nothingness. A fair number of them were written in blocks of strange glyphs that Anna didn't recognise.

"Coded," Khalid said, turning a piece of parchment various ways and holding it up to a light.

"Indeed," Xan said thoughtfully. "Tazok seems to have taken more care in communicating with his employers than with his underlings. I think perhaps...this seems familiar, though. I might be able to make some sense of these."

"Then good fortune to you. Jaheira and I are n-not so skilled in th-that area," Khalid replied.

...

Finding little else of use the weary group left the hut to join the others. Despite the warm night Kivan kept his cloak wrapped tightly around himself with his fist as if worried something might swoop down and make off with it.

"I see you've...found your cloak. That is good," Anna said hesitantly.

He kept his eyes on the path ahead but answered her comment.

"It was a gift from my wife. Deheriana gave it to me just before we departed Shilmista."

He was quiet again and Anna didn't reply, but she was surprised when he suddenly laughed to himself.

"She chastised me for the state of my old cloak. I never did put much consideration into my garments beyond basic function, and the forests never have been kind to cloth. What would she say, if she saw the condition it is now in?"

He chuckled softly and fingered the ragged material delicately. Anna smiled a little into the darkness but left him to his reverie.


	41. Torn Pages

"Gods, what a pile of junk!" Imoen muttered to herself as she and Anna sorted through the contents of a hut. She held up a dented tin cup, giving it a quick evil eye then tossing it aside. "And these were supposed to be the elite bandits? That cave in Peldvale had more loot."

"I don't think Tazok was too generous with his men. Either that or they sent it on to who knows where," Anna replied.

She looked at the girl who crouched on her knees as she worked her way through the contents of a chest. Although Jaheira had spent much of her gifts on her she remained pale and wobbly. But despite, or more than likely because of her injuries she still seemed determined to help with whatever task needed doing. Anna considered telling her to go rest but let her alone with a sigh.

"_Whoa, whoa!"_

Anna turned as Imoen cried out with an excited look on her ashen face.

"This chest has a false bottom!" she exclaimed.

She hurried over and crouched next to the girl. Imoen moved aside a wooden panel revealing a small leather case.

"Ooh, what's in here? It better not be some hobgoblin's letters to mummy," Imoen said, undoing the clasps.

"Careful," Anna said.

She reached out a hand but Imoen pushed it away as she popped open the lid, revealing a stack of parchments.

"_Jackpot! _Look at all these! They're spells, right? Can you read them?"

"Maybe, if you give me a chance to look at them," Anna laughed, slipping a parchment away from the girl's grasp.

The ink on the paper shimmered with iridescent purples and blues that shifted in the light. Four large symbols laid out in a grid shone brighter than the rest.

"These are the keys," Anna said, pointing to the large symbols. "If you were to read this spell aloud now they would trigger and the parchment would be consumed. Always translate them last if you're copying a spell to your book or you'll lose it for good."

"I know, but what kind of spell is it?" Imoen said, eager. "That's the symbol for sulphur, right? I know its arcane name, don't tell me..."

"_Shht_," Anna said, directing her hand away from a symbol of a triangle perched atop a cross. "Yes. It's the alchemical symbol for life which gives a clue, but it doesn't tell you everything. It might be for healing, but you see its opposite on the southern sphere? The symbol for earth, a grounding element. A healing spell would have the symbol of the heavens. And on the east and west you have the symbols of fire and air. Together they speak of creation and life. This is a summoning spell."

"Cool. What does it summon?"

"Guardians..." Anna said, letting her mind run over the other glyphs. "It's fairly basic, but it summons animal guardians to protect the caster. Haven't you been working on your symbols?"

As they had no bookshelves at hand Anna had spent much time and parchment in writing out all the arcane symbols she could think of for the girl to study from.

"Yeah, but there's so many of them, you know? And half of them look alike except for some little squiggledy tail or something. I never could figure why mages can't just write things down like everyone else."

"They do, but you have to think around the words, if you get my meaning. Magic isn't literal—it's about ideas and images. All the gestures and words, what they really do is focus the spellcaster's mind allowing them to bend the Weave in a certain way. If you understand these symbols and their connections to one another this scroll will tell you everything you need to say, and whatever components you need to cast the spell."

"Can I try to copy this one to my book? You said it was basic, and I'm pretty simple."

She looked at Anna with a cheerful grin but the mage shook her head.

"_Mmm_, not yet. You didn't recognise all the symbols, it's probably not the best idea. You'd waste the spell or trigger it and summon an inside-out rabbit!"

"If I did I could roast it up with some nice herb stuffing and a wine sauce, so it wouldn't be a total waste," Imoen jibed.

"Even so, it's better to wait till you're sure you're ready," she said with a laugh.

Imoen made an irritated noise. "It's really great of you to help me with this, but I think I can handle more than you're giving me. I don't need to learn all the symbols, just the ones in the spells I want to cast. I know I can do it."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Maybe, but if you start hurrying through you can make mistakes or pick up dangerous habits. You're doing well but you can't become a mage overnight."

"I know," Imoen replied.

"Although...I suppose I could look through these and see if there's any you could manage," she said slowly, regarding the girl's sulky face.

"Aw, you're the best!" Imoen said with a crooked grin.

Anna chuckled slightly, having the distinct feeling she'd just been played.

"This is a strange collection of spells, though," she continued while thumbing through the parchments. "The bandits must have taken them off some arcane merchant. The black moon...that's an unpredictable sign. I don't recognise all these symbols myself. I think I might have Xan take a look at these, actually."

"Bowing to his superior knowledge? You'll never hear the end of it," Imoen said, shaking her head with mock seriousness.

"Sometimes we need to swallow our pride for the greater good," Anna replied with equal gravity.

"Better you than me. Are we done here?"

"Yes, I can't stand these huts. They feel like a dungeon somehow, even though they're in the middle of the woods."

Imoen nodded and the two women made their way back out into the comfort of sunlight.

....

Anna looked around with caution despite knowing that Finn and Kivan were on guard somewhere. Thankfully the night had passed quietly, though it was stickily humid and Anna woke frequently in an uncomfortable sweat, imagining that every stealthy noise in the trees was bandits on a raid. The others also tossed and turned, their nerves heightened by the pain of injury. Anna hardly dared to hope that the surviving bandits had truly abandoned the camp and she half-expected an ambush at any moment.

She glanced up blinking at the bright noon sky. The carrion birds had discovered the corpses and circled down in an ever-growing column that could be seen for miles, their comrades on the ground bickering and battering one another with their black wings over the feast. The sooner they moved on from that place, the better.

"You're going to talk with Xan?" Imoen asked, and Anna absently muttered an affirmative. "I think I'll go find Jaheira then. She might need a hand with something."

The girl already sweated in the sunshine and Anna figured her sudden desire to aid the druid had little to do with the fear of an afternoon lecture from the elf. Despite her high spirits Imoen's face fell when she thought no one was looking, and she reached frequently for the wounds on her back.

Anna said farewell to Imoen and stepped into the hut where Xan sequestered himself to study Tazok's letters. He'd managed to open a roof-vent and a small block of sunlight helped illuminate the interior. She noticed with surprise that the elf seemed strangely animated, walking back and forth between the pages of letters he'd spread out onto the ground and a series of strange glyphs he'd written with charcoal onto the hide walls of the tent.

"Xan…" she began.

He held out a palm in her direction but didn't respond. He paced back and forth with a parchment in his hand, staring off into space. Anna stayed quiet. Finally he sprung forward with a little cry and scrawled a letter underneath some of the glyphs. He stood looking at the wall and ran a hand through his damp hair. She went and stood next to him, trying to make sense of the figures.

"Oh, Anna—" he said, as if just noticing her presence.

"What's all this?" she asked.

"Have you never broken codes?" he said, slightly breathless. "No, I don't suppose you would. A worthwhile discipline if you take the time to learn it."

"You look like you're having fun," she said, a small smile creeping out.

"This isn't an idle exercise. Making sense of these letters is vital."

Anna gave him a look.

"But…I suppose you could call it diverting, yes," he conceded slowly.

Anna laughed. She didn't think she'd ever seen the elf so active.

"How do you work it?" she asked.

"It is a matter of finding patterns," he said, wiping his brow and leaving a slight smear of charcoal behind. "Letters repeat with a certain degree of frequency depending on how commonly they are used. Vowels for example are repeated often, while in the common tongue letters such as 'Z' appear rarely. First you must look for the symbols that are repeated most and focus on them."

"How do you know they're letters?"

"A good question. They could be pictograms, but experience tells me these symbols are exchangeable for an alphabet. And as Tazok spoke Common it's reasonable enough to assume it translates into Common, as well."

"Impressive," Anna said.

"Thank you. Although this isn't a very complex system—some I've encountered have taken months to decipher. Tazok may have been intelligent for his kind but he was still just an ogre and their understanding of such things is limited."

"He was a half-ogre," she commented.

"And Mulahey was a half-orc. Do you think such a breed improves them?"

"Have you learned anything?" she said, rolling her eyes a little.

"Only fragments. These letters are in such a state that translating them still won't tell me everything, I'm afraid." He let out a breath and Anna felt his animation deflating from him like air from a bladder. "I have found something that may be significant, though. There are references to an iron mine—and by their date I do not think they relate to the mine in Nashkel. Are there any other mines on the coast?"

"Not that I know of," she said thoughtfully. "Not on the scale of Nashkel, anyway. It's possible there could be some small operations somewhere, though."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It is just my impression but I do not think this is a small mine the letters speak of."

"But surely any other mine on the coast would've come to prominence in the wake of the troubles in Nashkel. Why would it be hidden?"

"I don't know. I must learn more. Would you excuse me?"

He picked up another parchment and turned back to examining the letters on the wall.

"Yes. Oh—!" Anna said, remembering her mission. "Imoen and I found these scrolls, but I can't identify them all and I'm a bit worried that some might be shadow magic. Could you have a look at them?"

"Yes, yes, but not now," Xan said irritably. She set the case down on the ground with a little sigh and departed.

....

Anna stepped out of the hut, unsure of what to do next. No living souls were in sight and sweat trickled down the back of her neck in the still air. She just decided to find Jaheira herself when she saw Finn and Kivan step from the forest. Finn seemed to be talking rather earnestly to the elf. She approached the pair, walking quietly and deliberately as though she expected bad news. Kivan's attitude towards her was still unreadable—her few attempts at conversation with him were greeted by an unnerving neutrality. He answered her comments with neither hostility nor interest, only a tangible distance. In spite of his attitude she felt a strange impulse to talk with him. Anna couldn't stand the strange pricking feeling she had when he glanced at her with blank eyes. She wished she could apologise, but she had no idea how to make amends for saving someone's life.

Still she noted the change in him now, with the hunting paint finally washed from his face and his old clothes of animal hide replaced by trousers and a tunic that he'd discovered somewhere. Except for the long black hair and keen eyes he seemed a different elf. But like the faint stains of blue that years of woad paint had left on his skin she knew the memory of his trials would not fade overnight.

Finn smiled at her approach and caught her up in a kiss, pulling her close and lifting her toes off the ground. Anna felt a bit embarrassed and wondered what the elf would think but if he had opinions he kept them to himself.

"You're persuasive, Anna—help me convince this fellow not to leave," Finn said, setting her down.

He spoke light-heartedly and she wondered if he knew everything that happened yesterday. She certainly hadn't gone out of her way to mention it.

"Are you leaving?" she asked with surprise.

"Yes, _arwenamin. _You know with Tazok's death I have no more reason to remain. Finn and the others have no real need of my aid, and so I shall go on my way," Kivan said, looking again at her as though she wasn't there.

"We do need you," Finn continued. "That ogre was working for someone. He said he didn't put my bounty out, and gods help me but I believe him. It isn't over."

"For you perhaps. But as I have told you, _ohtar,_ my quest is at an end. You have my gratitude for your aid, and your friendship. I wish you the power of Shevarash's swift hands on your hunt but there is nothing more for me here,"Kivan said firmly.

"Where are you going?" Anna asked.

"I shall return to Shilmista. My final journey."

He spoke quietly and Anna wondered at the import of those words.

"Can't it wait?" Finn said. "The rest of us are all going on and I doubt it's going to get any easier. If you really do think of us as friends you wouldn't leave. I wouldn't."

"And nor would I ask you to change your path for me, _mellonamin_."

Finn made an aggravated sigh and they continued into the camp.

"So that's it, then? You're just going to bail like Coran?"

Kivan shook his head. "Not like him. I am sorry for my kinsman's behaviour—to leave knowing such a battle was at hand was cowardly, no matter what his heart might have said."

"Yeah, and I don't wager it was his heart that was doing the thinking for him," he said dryly. "But what you're doing _is_ the same. I'm not saying you owe me anything, you don't. But for the gods' sake, we nearly got ourselves killed here yesterday. We couldn't take another fight like this—just look at everyone, they're like the walking dead. It's either a miracle or pure dumb luck that we made it through at all. We need your help, Kivan. You can drop blokes like nobody I've ever seen. You may just be one man but you'd make a hell of a difference. I'm asking you, don't throw everything aside just because there's nothing left in it for you."

...

Kivan frowned and said nothing. Finn stared off into space and his expression echoed the elf's. They all were silent and as they stepped around a hut they came across Xzar busily attending a corpse.

"Hells, leave them alone! Freak," Finn said, taking his anger out on the necromancer.

Xzar looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Dear me, such manners. I'd have thought that a young man raised by monks might be more polite."

"So says the one picking at the dead like a crow. Are you feeling sane now? I think you promised me a chat."

Finn had tried his best the day before to glean the information about Gorion's death that the wizard had offered at the inn, but Xzar had slipped into one of his odd moods and spoke little more than nonsense all evening. Montaron for his part had just sneered and claimed ignorance.

_"En eller! E'i'omea!"_

Anna started as Kivan suddenly barked the attention. Xzar smiled in his way and casually went back to his work. She followed Kivan's gaze to the trees but saw nothing. He sent an arrow flying into the woods and Anna heard a sharp cry. The undergrowth rustled and Finn called out an alarm.

_"We're under attack! Everybody get out here!"_

There was a scramble as the others dashed from the huts with weapons in hand, looking around in confusion. Anna saw several men rise up and take flight through the forest. Kivan fired another arrow but let out a curse as it struck a tree. Finn dashed forward and the elf followed him. Anna summoned a shield and ran fast as she could after the men.

....

They left her behind in the trees but she still saw them running up ahead. She faintly heard Kivan cry that their quarry had split up and he and Finn ran in separate directions. Anna paused, drawing in lungfuls of the warm summer air and irritably yanking out a twig that became embedded in her hair. She had no idea how many attackers there were or what direction they'd run in. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the image of a wolf. The Weave twisted under her words and she smelled a faint scent of sulphur as several shaggy grey animals appeared in a burst of light.

_"Hunt,"_ she told them. The lead wolf growled and the creatures disappeared into the undergrowth.

Not far from her she heard their howls mingled with a man's scream. Swiftly she followed the cries until she came across a bandit. He lay on the ground with the wolves tearing at him, his filthy clothing covered in blood. He tried to push the animals off with his bare hands but could do nothing against their weight. He saw Anna burst through the trees and cried out to her.

_"Help me! For the love of the gods, help me!"_

She watched their jaws snapping and tearing at the man's face as he cowered from them like a child. Bandit or no he seemed pathetic and helpless. Anna spoke a word of cancellation and the wolves disappeared.

The man groaned and shook, holding his bloodied hands to his face. He pulled them away slightly realising his attackers were gone but he seemed too dazed to fully comprehend it.

"What are you doing here?" Anna demanded, holding her staff out towards the man.

"_I_..._uhh_..._what?"_ he rambled, staring at his red hands.

"Never mind. Just don't move," she said, looking around for her comrades. She had nothing to bind him with and a spell might not last long enough for her to find aid.

"Yer a witch, aren't ye?" he said thickly. He tried to smile through bleeding mouth, showing yellow teeth lined with pink. "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?"

He laughed nervously and Anna scowled.

"Keep moving and you may find out. Stay still."

"I think yer a good witch. You look like a nice girl. Kind o' sweet, like."

He slowly dragged himself to his knees and Anna stepped back, brandishing her staff.

"I told you, stay where you are," she repeated. He ignored her and kept creeping forward.

"Nice witch, yeah. Not the sort one thinks to find out here. Though I knew a bad witch once, ya know? Top bird, lots of fun. But I pissed her off and then me plums didn't stop itching for a month! Thought I'd tear the beggars clean off. Awful embarrassing any time I'd pass a priest in the street, ya know what I'm saying?"

He grinned and tittered again at his joke. Something in his jittery manner reminded her of the bandit that attacked Maya and her in the kitchen. Rage and fear crept up and she spoke hard as she could.

"Stop there, you bastard—and I mean it!"

"Aw, now, none of that—"

He rose to one knee and reached for her. Something snapped within and she struck him hard across the head. With a groan he fell back and glared at her with his one good eye.

_"Bitch!"_

His hand moved from behind his back and flung forward. Anna saw a blur and felt a hot pain in her side. She made a deep noise seeing his dagger sticking from her robes. He lunged at her and she groaned again as she swung at him, the movement twisting the blade in her body. She struck hard though and in his weakened state he stumbled. She didn't wait for him to rise. Summoning all her strength she thrust the end of her staff into his skull. She heard a dull crack and the bandit let out a queer moan. He fell onto his face and jerked strangely for a moment, then was still.

Anna fell backwards onto the ground, clutching at the searing wound. She breathed rapidly and her head felt hot and faint. She raised her arm and with a short spoken word a series of missiles burst from her hand and exploded above. Hopefully someone would notice and come to her aid. She felt the bloody hilt and tried to work out the depth of the wound. It was fairly short, she thought, a throwing dagger.

In her bag she still had some of the moss from yesterday. With dry mouth and a shaking hand she wrapped it in a kerchief. Bracing herself she took hold of the hilt and pulled it from her body, a low cry escaping her lips as the sharp metal cut again into her flesh. She tossed the red blade aside and slid the bundle of moss into the wound. The fabric hurt worse than the dagger and she cried out in agony. Gathering up some of her robe in her sticky hand she pressed it against the wound, praying that it was enough to stop the bleeding. She leaned back and lay staring at the green treetops, tears flowing in silence.

....

"I'm all right, Finn, I can walk," Anna said with a groan.

She gently pushed his arm off and he looked at her with concern. She tried to smile up at him, not wanting to say that his arm resting on her hip only made the pain worse.

"I still think Jaheira should have another look at you," he said.

"She said I'll be fine if I don't strain and re-open the wound. She still needs to see to the others, you know."

The Harpers had found her in the woods and Jaheira applied all the gifts she could spare, but Anna was still in more pain than she wanted to admit. She walked slowly and they lagged behind the other couple as they made their way back to the camp.

"Come here," Finn said quietly.

He stood before her and placed a hand over her injured side. He shut his eyes and Anna gasped with the rising heat, but as it cooled she felt the pain fading away. He slid his other arm around her and she looked up at him.

"Better?"

"Yes...thank you."

She spoke in a whisper and looked down at his chest. His jerkin was patched and stained but the mail shirt underneath was still intact. He raised a hand and caressed her chin, his fingers drifting over her cheek. She looked up again and saw his blue eyes were fixed on her mouth.

Khalid called back to them and Finn sighed.

"Come on, let's see what they've got."

....

They hurried along and entering the camp Anna saw the others gathered in a circle. Peering around Jaheira's shoulder she saw Montaron standing over a captured bandit who huddled on the grass.

"Yeah, and who's a short stuff now, eh?" the halfling said, giving the man a quick cuff around the head. "I may be short, sonny, but I can still reach where it counts!"

"Get him away!" the man cried, struggling to protect himself as the halfling aimed a kick at a more sensitive area.

"Count yourself lucky to have been spared at all," Kivan growled at the man. "Now tell us how many more of your ilk are here before I remove your hide in payment for my kinsman's life."

"I didn't have nothing to do with that elf!" the man exclaimed. "I told you, there was just the five of us. We didn't reckon to find anybody here, we thought everyone else was dead. If there's ought left alive I don't know about it."

"Well, let's find out what you do know," Finn said, stepping forward. "Do you recognise me?"

"Aye," the man said, glancing up through squinted eyes. "You're the one that bleeding ogre almost made inter a new hat. But I didn't have nothing to do with that, neither."

The man shifted again, not much caring for the way Finn stared at him.

"Didn't say you had. But I want to know about bounties. There was a bounty on my head and I want to know why."

"How'd I know that? I just went where they told me and mopped up the coin afterwards." He paused and a thought seemed to pass over his frightened face. "But, _ah_, I might know a few things about it. Some of the fellows liked to talk a bit over the dice. Let me go and I'll tell you, right?"

"How about you tell me and I decide whether or not to slit your fucking throat?"

Finn bent over him and seized his hair. The man cringed and looked up at the other hard faces surrounding him with a groan.

"Right, okay. Listen, I don't know why. But there was lots of bounties put out, I know that. You were just one."

"Who were the others placed on?" Jaheira demanded.

"Nobodies. I don't know. I talked to some blokes who met the bounty hunters what brought the heads in. Said they couldn't believe somebody'd pay for that lot to bite the dust. They weren't even fighters, most of them. Just—nobodies. All random. Clerks, cooks...hells, I think one fellow was a tinker. But somebody wanted 'em all dead."

"Why?" Finn asked again, bewilderment in his voice.

"I told you, I don't know! They just had 'em killed. Men and women both—all over the coast, up north, and down into Amn even. Must've been dozens of 'em, but nobody knew why."

"Tazok d-did this?" Khalid asked.

"He put the orders out. One of my mates was sent out with a whole stack of them. I reckon it was him, who else would it be?"

"But we know the ogre had allies," Jaheira said. "Who were they?"

"There was them Black Talon fellows working with us. But he never seemed to get orders from no one, that's for sure."

"What of an iron mine?" Xan spoke up. "Another mine, other than the one in Nashkel."

The man just stared at him blankly and tugged at his bonds.

"Don't know, mate. I'm just a grunt. Maybe they was fixing other mines too?"

Anna could hear panic slipping up in the man's voice and his face glistened in the sun. He surely wasn't expecting any compassion from the band that helped to slaughter half the camp, and what little information he could offer must have seemed like a poor bargaining tool. He began to glance up at them with that look Anna recognised from their past hostages—the fear of a cornered animal.

"So, you gonna let me go or what?"

He tried to speak boldly but his voice shook.

"Not sure yet," Finn grumbled back.

"Oh, we couldn't possibly. I've been needing something a bit more fresh and intact that the corpses we seem to be encountering lately," Xzar drawled. "And I believe this fellow would make an excellent specimen, even if he does already smell worse than the deceased."

"Yeah" Monty sneered. "And I still haven't quite gotten over that short joke. My poor feelings are all bruised!"

He taunted him with the stiletto he'd managed to scavenge from the battlefield. The man recoiled, drew a breath and shouted.

"Get back! You know who you're messing with? I'm _Zhentarim!"_

Anna hardly believed the man's desperate boast, but Montaron's face dropped then opened wide with wild howls of laughter.

"_You?_ Zhentarim?" The halfling virtually doubled over. "Hear that, Xzar? He thinks he's one of us!"

...

Anna gasped. Like a magnet all eyes drew towards the halfling. He wiped his eyes but his mistake dawned on him and his mouth opened with a very different expression.

"Monty, Monty, Monty," Xzar clucked quietly.

"What...is _this?"_ Jaheira said through gritted teeth.

Khalid reached for his blade but Xzar just stood and smiled that lopsided grin.

"Oh, come now. It cannot come as such a surprise, can it? Perhaps we should have worn pretty little pins like your Harper selves—a note from mummy pinned to your vests to help the simple with identification."

"Yeah," Montaron said, recovering somewhat. "It was quite a lark joining up with you lot, and you never guessed a blessed thing! But we didn't give a damn and I don't see why you should, either. We both got what we wanted."

"What we want is to see all your filth brought to a well-deserved grave!" Jaheira bellowed. "What role have you been playing in this intrigue?"

"Ah my Lady Harper," Xzar said. "Such unpleasantries are uncalled for in the fairer sex. But if you manage to restrain your rage long enough you may realise that we were dispatched to put an end to the nasty rumours of our involvement. That is the trouble with fame, I'm afraid—everyone wants to be associated with you."

"Did you put the price on my head? You said you knew who did. No more excuses—tell me now or I'll gut you myself!"

Finn's voice rose to a strange pitch and he stepped forward, drawing his blade. Xzar quickly fell back behind Montaron.

"Did we—? Paying attention truly isn't your strong suit, is it? Of course it wasn't us. I do know all about your bounty though, my young friend. And I would have told you before, but you've been so dreadfully rude to Monty and myself. I hate people when they're not polite. A bit of simple manners can take you so far in this world..."

He slipped a hand onto Montaron's shoulder and the thief grinned.

"Yeah, manners. A little consideration, like maybe letting a fellow next to your sister."

"Shut up, you gross little troll!" Imoen exclaimed.

Montaron laughed and Finn seemed to break. He swore and rushed at the pair. Xzar held out a hand and spoke, stopping him in his tracks as he froze like a statue.

"Monty, what were we just talking about?" the wizard said with a weary sigh. "But never mind. Despite everything, I at least remain a civilised fellow. You can still hear me, young friend? Yes, you can. Ask your Harper friends what they know of your predicament, that is all I will say. And now..."

_"Stop him!"_ Xan shouted.

The group shifted towards the pair but a white-hot light issued from Xzar's raised hand. A glow like the sun surrounded them and Anna had to turn her eyes away. She heard Montaron cackle and call out in a fading voice.

_"...See ya!"_

The light faded, and the pair were gone.

Finn's hold released and he stumbled forward, almost falling to his knees.

"What the—he can do that? Come back, you bastard! Tell me who did this! Tell me..."

He stabbed his blade into the earth and continued ranting. Anna took a step towards him but stopped, wary of his outbursts. She looked at Khalid and Jaheira who talked furtively together. Jaheira noticed her glance but quickly looked away, biting on her lip.

....

_"Look there! In the trees!"_


	42. Midsummer

"Finn—" Jaheira said, clearing her throat. He ignored her and continued ranting. "Finn—_stop this!"_

She spoke loudly and firmly and he turned to her, his eyes wild.

"You know? You know about all this?" he spat.

"Finn—"

He stepped forward quickly, holding a fist clenched at his side as if trying to crush the juices out of the revelation.

"You _knew? _What kind of game are you playing at? You've been leading me around all this time?"

"Let me speak!" Jaheira exclaimed, her voice a strangely high pitch. "That...that _Zhent_ was only trying to stir up trouble. I assure you that—"

"_You _assure me? What difference does that make?"

His body vibrated and his entire face seemed to shake. He looked like he might spring at any moment. Anna stood stock still with her heart leaping in her chest.

"What is this? You would believe his word over ours?" Jaheira bellowed back, her mood rising to meet his.

"Why not?" Finn shouted. "Why not? Who the hells are you, anyway? You're supposed to be Gorion's friends, but I don't know you and Imoen doesn't know you. I never even heard him mention your name till we were on the run. For that matter, how do I even know you are who you say you are? You could be anybody."

Jaheira stared at him in disbelief.

"Finn, I realise things have been difficult but these...rantings make little sense. Gorion was—"

"No," Khalid interrupted. "They m-make perfect sense. H-he is correct. Why sh-should he trust our story? He knows us n-not."

Jaheira whirled on her husband.

"Have you lost your mind as well? Does the fact that we have been fighting alongside him these months now, trying to keep him safe mean nothing? How much of our own blood has been spilt, Finn, trying to protect yours? These are not the actions of a foe."

Finn fell back and shook his head, his lips curling up into an unreadable expression but he stepped forward again.

"Yeah, and _why?_ Gorion was your friend. Alright, fine, I believe you. And maybe you do want to look after his poor orphaned ward. But ever since we've met you've been following me around like I was a baby, telling me 'don't do this, don't do that', yet the next minute you're looking to me to find out what course we should take. I should've known something was going on. How'd I end up in charge here? It's obvious you don't want me to be. I want to know why, and I want to know now. Tell me or you can get out of my sight for good."

"Finn! You can't mean that," Anna exclaimed.

"Oh, shut it," he replied coldly. She shook but folded her arms and glared at him.

"Mind your tongue," Jaheira snapped.

Finn sneered. "You're not my mother. Good thing, too, eh? But I don't give a toss. Tell me, _now_. I deserve to know. Imoen deserves to know! I don't care about the reasons. Tell me!"

Anna looked at her comrades as they shifted uncomfortably under the tension. Imoen seemed frozen, the barest hint of tears beginning to sparkle over her red cheeks. Xan and Kivan shared a glance but said nothing. The bound bandit likewise remained silent, staring up at the players with a miserable expression on his face.

Jaheira stood braced, her back bent and hunched in anger. Finn glared back and they stared at one another, both locked by some spell. Khalid gently raised a hand to Jaheira's shoulder. She started at the touch but then seemed to melt.

"We...know nothing," she said quietly.

"Come off it!" Finn bellowed.

"L-lower your voice," Khalid broke in. "She is c-correct, we know very l-little."

"We will tell you what we know. But first it would be wise to deal with him," Jaheira said, nodding at the bandit.

"_No!_ Don't—I told you everything, all right? Don't kill me, I've got kids—"

The bandit tried to struggle away from his captors, his face turning white in the sun.

"And I bet you send them a gold piece every tenday, don't you?" Finn said, breaking his gaze from Jaheira.

"I'm a good dad!" the man whined. "Let me go, I won't tell nobody nothing—please!"

"The man is a bandit, he should not be allowed to walk away from his crimes," Kivan said. "You speak of your children, but how many innocents have died at your hands?"

"And your hands are clean?" the man flashed.

"No innocents have fallen to my bow," the elf scowled.

"If they're dead it's kind of hard to ask, ain't it?"

"Enough!" Jaheira said. "We shall not slay you but neither shall you go free. We will bring this man with us and turn him in to a Flaming Fist patrol once we are on the tradeway. They will have questions for you, I am certain. In the meantime, Xan, would you see to it that he is more sedated for travel?"

"Pardon?" the elf said, starting somewhat.

"Charm him so that he is less of a threat," Jaheira replied. "Is that not what you normally do with prisoners?"

"Yes. Very well, I shall see to him."

Xan slowly walked over and placed his hands on the struggling man's temples. He spoke to the bandit under his breath and the man stilled, staring up at the elf with a happy, mellow little expression. Suddenly though Xan snatched up a kerchief and pressed it to his nose as though trying to rein in a sneeze. He turned away quickly but no one seemed to pay much heed.

"Right, then. So tell me," Finn said, his voice still shaking.

"Would you not rather speak in private?" Jaheira asked.

"Why? This one won't remember a thing," he said, gesturing at the bandit. "And there's no reason to hide anything from anyone else."

"As you wish," Jaheira sighed. She drew a breath and continued. "Gorion was indeed a good friend of ours, though we saw little of him in recent years. I am not surprised that he did not mention us—as he drew deeper and deeper into his life at Candlekeep he had less and less direct involvement in the Harpers. He spoke fondly of you, though, Finn—we came to imagine you as something of a little scamp, and it was a...surprise to finally see you as a grown man."

She trailed off but Imoen broke in.

"Little scamp? He could've been talking about either one of us there. Didn't he mention me?"

"He spoke fondly of you too, Imoen," the druid said quickly.

"Yes, w-we were surprised to h-hear that he'd adopted children. He was a k-kind man but never seemed p-partial to a family life," Khalid said.

"But what's that have to do with my bounty? It wasn't just a coincidence that he set out looking for you of all people," Finn said.

"No," Jaheira said. "But as I tried to tell you before, we know little beyond what we have already shared. Khalid and I had been dispatched to the Friendly Arm to meet some of our compatriots, that we could investigate the troubles in Nashkel. But before we had spent a second night there a message arrived telling us that our compatriots had been reassigned, and pending further instructions we were to wait for Gorion and his ward. We were baffled. The message was so short, and if it were not for the hidden Harper wards we might have considered it a hoax."

"You've said all that before. But what does—"

Jaheira interrupted him with a short noise and a raised hand.

"Will you ever let me finish? After that attempt on your life at the inn we decided we would be safer on the road. In Beregost we received a new message saying that we were to continue on our mission, bringing Imoen and you with us. It—surprised us. We expected that you would be taken to a safehouse. But being ordered to investigate such a dangerous situation with two inexperienced young people, one of whom was a target for assassins...I confess I strongly doubted the wisdom of the command. We've tried to do what we could, even being more amenable to having strangers accompany us than we might otherwise. But—"

Jaheira paused and looked at Khalid. He sighed and continued.

"But the s-strangest order was about you, Finn. It s-said we were to guide you, to offer aid and c-counsel, but to otherwise leave you to your own decisions. In effect, we were told to let y-you lead the mission for as l-long as you chose to follow it. Why though, w-we do not know."

"Have the Harpers lost their sense?" Xan said, turning back to the group. "If they wanted Finn dead they might have just left him to the assassins."

Jaheira gave him a sour look.

"Normally I would take offence to such a remark, but as it happens...I agree with you," she sighed.

"Xzar still said the Harpers knew why someone is trying to kill me. I'm having a hard time believing that you're completely in the dark," Finn said.

"Believe what you like then," Jaheira replied. "But I swear to you by Silvanus that we do not know. If we did we would tell you, if for nothing else than our friendship with Gorion. Our superiors tell us nothing, and it angers us as much as you. I can offer you no other proof than our word. If that is not enough, then I am afraid we must go our separate ways."

She spoke quietly but Anna heard the conviction in her voice. Khalid nodded but remained silent. Finn stood frowning and focused on the grass. He glanced up at the sky and stared into the blue. No one else spoke. Anna looked at him and she could feel him wavering, sensing his confusion and anger. He cleared his throat.

"We don't even know where to go next."

"The mines," Xan said quietly. "The hidden iron mine. It is all of any substance I have been able to find from Tazok's letters."

"But how are we supposed to find that? This fellow said he didn't know anything about it and he's probably right. It could be anywhere," Finn said.

The group went silent again. Anna thought of Xzar and Montaron's exit and wished desperately that they'd been able to stop them. But like a bubble breaking the surface of the water an idea suddenly struck her.

"The map! Xzar's map. The dwarves excavated throughout this region, if there was iron here they would have found it."

Jaheira started. "Yes, you may be right. That map is centuries old but it may offer some clue."

"Good thing Xzar left his stuff behind, eh?" Finn said, his voice trying to find his normal pitch. "Let's have a look."

....

The party hurried off to the tent where Xzar left his pack, the charmed bandit bobbing along behind them. They spoke little, seemingly trying to pretend the fight never happened. Anna did her best but she felt bruised in a way that had nothing to do with the fresh scar on her abdomen.

A quick search of their packs revealed little of value besides the map; whatever information the Zhents had they took with them. They unrolled the sheepskin map in the sunlight and huddled together over it like children with some raided prize. Anna ran her eyes over the faded ink, searching the sketched hills and forests even though she knew next to nothing about what was written there.

"Dwarven runes—they look like chicken scratchings in the dirt," Xan muttered.

"Look to the Nashkel area first," Jaheira said. "There, you see—"

"Yes, _donnar-agaz_. Metal ore, iron—marked in red so it must indicate a plentiful source. Now, where else? I believe it to be a large mine—"

Jaheira nodded and ran her finger up the coast, scanning the numerous marks and notations.

"Some small mentions..._there!_" She tapped her finger in a spot that Anna recognised as Cloakwood Forest. "Another mention of iron ore in red. Is that all?"

They scanned the map but found nothing that might signify a large iron mine.

"With nothing else to go on I feel it is worth a try," Jaheira said finally. "What do you say?"

She glanced at Finn rather hesitantly. He let out a breath.

"We could do worse, I suppose. But I think we should take what we can and hit the trail—I don't much fancy another night sitting around here waiting for an ambush."

The others agreed and left to perform the familiar task of packing, except for Kivan. He crouched down and picked up a handful of sandy soil, letting the earth and bits of dry leaf and twig run slowly through his fingers. Finn paused and Anna hesitated nearby.

"What about you?" he asked the elf.

Kivan kept watching the sands fall.

"You spoke inappropriately today. Anger can serve you well, but not when it is turned against those who would be your friends." The last grains slipped away. "But I cannot say I would do differently."

He rose and Finn said nothing.

"I shall travel with you, if you still wish my bow. Perhaps my walk is not finished, and there is yet something that ties me to this plane." He opened his fist and examined his dusty palm. "So be it, then. _Ikotane ta nae, ikotane ta naa, ikotane ta nauva."_

Kivan said nothing more and walked away to the huts. Finn looked at Anna and she bit her lip slightly remembering his sharp words. He pressed his brow against hers and she shut her eyes, feeling the heat of his damp skin and the warmth of his breath on her lips. He wrapped his arms around her but his lips stayed hovering over hers until they slipped over to her ear. Anna felt their tickling caress as he breathed quietly.

"I'm sorry."

She drew her arms around him and Finn's grip grew stronger, and they held each other silently in the sunlight.

....

Anna stepped into the hot, stinking hut for what she hoped was the last time. Jaheira was alone sorting their much-needed healing herbs into her pack. She looked up when Anna entered.

"There you are. I wanted to see to your wound again before we leave. Walking with the strain of a pack could cause you re-injury."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Don't trouble yourself," Anna replied, her heart fluttering slightly.

"It is a deep wound in a vulnerable spot—in truth I should have stitched it closed before attempting healing. The time for that has passed but I still should apply more blessings."

"Surely the others need aid more. What of Imoen?"

"I have done all I can for her, nature must now work her course. Now heed me, please."

Despite the 'please' Anna heard the finality in the druid's voice and she reluctantly raised her robe and skirts. Jaheira looked at the wound that was now a dark purple streak across her pale abdomen and spoke in surprise.

"Silvanus, it has healed? The scar has formed and there is no sign of rot. Have you taken a healing potion?"

"_Um_, yes, I have. The...bandit had one on his body." Anna said hesitantly.

"Then why did you not take it before I arrived? You were fortunate you didn't pass out from loss of blood."

The woman gave Anna a keen look and she felt herself melting. She swallowed hard but Jaheira looked away with a shake of her head.

"Never mind. But next time take a potion as soon as you are able—the first minutes after injury are the most critical."

She went back to her pack and Anna let her robe drop with a thankful breath.

....

They struck out in a north-westerly direction towards the possible mine with Kivan scouting the way once more. With their injuries and a prisoner in tow they didn't make good time and spent two nights out before finally emerging from the trees onto the tradeway's paving stones. They had a brief rest then headed north along the empty road.

"The hamlet of Greenvale is not far," Jaheira said after a time, pointing to a small marker stone hiding amongst the grasses on the side of the road. "I hoped we hadn't passed it in the wood."

"What's in Greenvale?" Imoen asked.

"Very little," Anna replied. "It's not much more than a way-stop for caravans. But there's a small inn there and we can get supplies."

"Thank the gods," Imoen said.

....

If there were ever any travellers that greeted the sight of the dusty, thatched-roof little village more than their band Anna couldn't imagine it. Its few cottages were surrounded by still fewer farms that had been hacked out of the thick surrounding woodlands. A tawny dog heralded their approach to the hot summer afternoon before retreating behind a stable. Most of the village inhabitants appeared to have likewise retreated from the sun and the few she did see were sitting in the shade of the eaves, regarding the party with a passive curiosity. As they mounted the creaking wood steps to the tavern Anna was even able to ignore the rather grotesque painted sign of an ankheg's head which graced the building.

A pair of greybeards sat outside the door and one looked up from the stick he whittled as they passed.

"Looks like elves t'day," he drawled.

"Aye,"his comrade replied, not bothering to raise the hat that covered his eyes.

"Reckon that means rain t'morrah."

"Aye."

....

The empty inn was dim and still in the heat. Anna heard the noises of cooking coming from the kitchen though and a bearded man turned around from his task at the bar.

"How do ye? Wasn't expecting travellers today."

"Why is that, my good man?" Jaheira asked.

"Midsummer's day, don't ye know? Most everyone's down picnicking at the lake."

"Is it Midsummer already?" Finn asked, a smile creeping over his face. "Well, I'll be damned!"

_"Yay!"_ Imoen exclaimed and gave him a hug.

"What is it?" Anna asked.

"Nothing much. Just my birthday."

He spoke casually but his smile stretched wider and Anna's joined his.

"Really? Twenty-one already? Happy birthday!"

She laughed and gave him a quick kiss.

"You can't congratulate a fellow better than that?"

Finn lifted her up pack and all and spun her around, making Anna squeal in spite of herself. She felt her face getting hot but laughingly submitted to his kisses.

"Tis a good year, lad. Enjoy it while ye can, they all go faster after this," the landlord laughed. "I take it you'll be wanting rooms? We can manage you something to eat, and baths if you're so inclined."

"I think we would be very inclined to the latter," Jaheira sighed. "But we have a prisoner with us—a bandit that we captured in the forest. Have the Flaming Fist been through recently?"

"They come and go. We've got a strong storeroom in the cellar ye can keep him in till then, for a fee."

"Naturally. Very well, we will be glad to be rid of him," she said.

"Hey, if he drew me a bath right now he'd be my favourite person ever," Imoen responded, slumping her pack to the floor.

....

In the later afternoon they all wandered down a well-worn path to the small lake near the village. The inn was stifling hot but the short breezes brought a freshness to the air as they made their way through the trees. Though the sun was still high Anna could feel the pleasant cool of evening coming on and her skin drank it in. The sound of music flitted through the trees and they soon came upon an open beach bordered by an area of soft grass. The clear lake shone turquoise under the sky, reflecting the friendly clouds that drifted above. People lay stretched out on blankets, eating and laughing while excited children chased each other around the picnic grounds. A group of minstrels played happily under a tree, pausing only to refresh themselves from the cask that sat to hand. Several men occupied themselves with piling wood on the beach for bonfires and cheerfully fielded endless questions and comments from the children who paused in their games to watch.

"This is more like it," Finn said as the group found a spot on the grass some way from the others. "I say we stay here, screw the bandits."

He stretched himself out and laid his head on Anna's lap, looking up at her with a grin. She smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

"Hear, hear—_ow_," Imoen said, trying to pry the cork from a small wine cask.

"Need help?"

"Nope!"

"Would that we could make them disappear with a twist of the hand," Xan sighed. "Although if we could I would also disappear as quickly as possible."

"To go back to Evereska?" Imoen said.

"Yes."

"I hear you. I wish we could get back to Candlekeep, I miss that old stick in the mud. What about you? Do you want to go home?" she asked Finn.

"If it involves moving? Then no," he said, not opening his eyes as Anna continued caressing his forehead.

"Seriously," Imoen laughed.

"Seriously?" he said, opening his eyes. "I don't know. With Gorion gone there really isn't anyone to go back for."

"Nobody? But what about—"

Finn gave her a look and Imoen broke off.

"Guess not," she muttered. "Well, come on everybody—share the wine!"

"It smells of vinegar," Xan said with a sniff.

"Sure, but it's a very fine vintage vinegar," she said cheerfully while handing him a wood cup. "If we could get back to Candlekeep I could smuggle you some elverquisst from the cellars, but I'm afraid this will have to do."

"Coran took his with him, then?" Kivan asked.

"Packed in all snug, right next to his dignity," Finn said. "Poor bastard."

"Do you really feel sorry for him?" Anna said.

"You can't have known Safana too well to ask that question."

"I am somewhat surprised—" Kivan began, but ended the question in his cup.

"What, that they ran off together?"

"No. Never mind," he said, and Finn shrugged.

"Where do you think they went, anyway?" Imoen asked.

"Who knows," Finn said. "Safana always talked about Tethyr and Coran's from there, so I reckon they probably went south."

"Aren't there supposed to be wars in the south now?"

"Wars and the south have a sad affinity," Jaheira sighed. "Would you mind choosing a different subject?"

"Sure," Imoen said, looking a bit surprised. "Hey, I know. Watch this!"

She stood up and cleared her throat. Anna watched expectantly as Imoen began speaking an incantation. Suddenly the air next to her rippled and an exact duplicate of the girl appeared next to her. They began to dance a jig in time to the rather bawdy song on their lips, the Imoens lifting imaginary skirts in the air and performing perfect heel-clicks. Anna began to laugh until her side hurt.

"What do you think?" the Imoens chimed in unison.

"Merciful Seldarine," Xan droned. "Mystra must be delighted her gifts are being put to such use."

"Oh, lighten up," Imoen laughed as her double vanished into mist. "I'll bet you couldn't do anything half as neat."

"I think my magic fairly eclipses yours, even if I do say so myself," he replied dryly.

"Well, show us something then, if you're so hot!" Imoen said, collapsing back to the ground.

"Yeah, come on, Xan! Let's have some entertainment this afternoon," Finn laughed. "Mage duels all around!"

Xan scowled. "I'm sorry, but no. I'm not some carnival magician—I don't do tricks, and I have no intention of wasting a spell I took the time to memorise just to amuse you."

"Yeah, right. I knew it! He's all talk," Imoen teased.

Imoen continued her jests and Xan's face went even further south. Anna wished she was close enough to give the girl a pinch but found it hard to keep a straight face at some of her quips.

Xan steamed in silence but finally held out a hand. He placed the other on top and uttered some words, and when he removed his hand a small glowing egg lay in his open palm. Imoen stopped laughing and wiped her eyes. He spoke again and the egg hatched, revealing a long-tailed golden songbird. It stood in his palm for a moment then took flight, splitting into other birds of rainbow colours. The birds flew around the heads of the picnickers, chirping and singing in remarkable voices. The people pointed excitedly and the children chased them around the grounds before the birds vanished into the ether.

"_Wow!"_ Imoen exclaimed. "That was brilliant!"

"Just a simple bit of illusion magic," Xan said, adjusting his robe collar slightly.

"And you said you didn't have any tricks," Anna smiled.

"No, I said I don't _do_ tricks. Imoen is not the only one who idled when they were supposed to be studying."

Imoen laughed and clapped her hands. "Look out! You're getting dangerously close to a sense of humour."

"Unlikely," he replied, but there was a smile in the corner of his mouth.

"Regardless, children, I do not think we should attract too much attention to ourselves," Jaheira said, her own eyes twinkling.

"Look at us, m-my love—we don't exactly b-blend in here," Khalid replied with a light air.

"Yeah, and I want to see what Anna's got—_ow_, what?" Finn laughed as Anna pinched his ear over the look he gave her.

"Jaheira's probably right," she said, giving him a mock-serious glance.

"_Bah_. Well, let's have some kind of game. It's my birthday! What kind of debauchery do elves get up to on Midsummer, Kivan?"

"We hunt orcs."

Finn looked at the expressionless elf.

"Always a never-ending party with your lot, eh?"

"I know what we can do!" Imoen said.

She jumped up and gestured for the others to follow. Finn rose and pulled Anna up, and they hurried along after Imoen as she approached some young boys who were flying kites over the crowd.

"Hey lads, mind if we borrow those for awhile? We'll pay."

She held out a silver piece and their eyes grew wide.

"Ye can keep 'em, lady! We'll make more," a boy exclaimed.

"You really are ten years old, aren't you?" Finn teased.

"Oh, hush. Come on, I can keep mine up longer than you can!"

...

Finn snickered but handed Anna a kite string. The three spent hours laughing and baiting each other, trying to keep their kites from dive-bombing the assembled revellers. Their kite-flying skills weren't up to much though so they quickly moved further down the beach to avoid any confrontations. Anna pulled on her string, feeling the wavering tightness as the linen kite rippled in the breeze. She glanced at Finn from time to time and his eyes sparkled back at her.

Suddenly though a strong gust caught her and the string snapped, sending the kite skidding merrily through the trees.

"Bother," Anna laughed and headed into the woods after the wayward toy.

"Wait up!" Finn said, promptly handing his string to Imoen.

"I'm not a kite-sitter!" Anna heard her call.

The kite came to rest against a tree and Anna breathlessly snatched it up, just in time to feel Finn's hands on her waist. She turned and the kite slipped down under the ferns.

....

"We should get back," Anna said after a time. "It isn't right to leave Imoen on her own."

"She's not on her own. It's nice here, anyway."

He played thoughtfully with the laces on her dress and she slowly pulled his hand away.

"Why not? She won't come looking for us."

"I know, but—"

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. "I'd have thought that we might've gone a little further by now. Does your side still hurt?"

"No. It's just—it seems like this is all we do when we're alone together."

Finn leaned back and looked at her.

"Well, what do you want us to do? Not like we can take up a hobby or anything out here. We're lucky if we even have a table to sit at anymore. I thought you were having fun?"

He sounded slightly hurt and Anna sighed.

"I am, but...sometimes I get the feeling this is all you want to do."

"What? Just because I like fooling around doesn't mean I don't want anything else. Come on, I like you. I wish we had a better life right now. But this is fun, isn't it? What's the problem?"

"What's the—"

Anna broke off and looked at him. His face seemed earnest and vaguely annoyed.

"Finn, do you know much about women?" she blurted.

"Where do you get these questions? Yeah, I suppose I do. Or I thought I did, anyway."

"Well, if you did you'd know that we tend to get a little...concerned when it seems like a man has only one interest."

His annoyed look spread further.

"What do you want me to say? Alright, I admit it. I don't know what the hells I'm doing. Back home if I liked a girl and she liked me then that was it—there wasn't anything complicated about it. But with you there always seems to be some new twist I need to puzzle out."

"Have many women back home, Finn?" Anna asked, feeling her own irritation grow. "I didn't realise Candlekeep was overflowing with available maidens."

He grimaced. "That's another trap, right? But yeah. Lots of people came to the keep, and nobles don't travel light. Full entourage, most of them. You can imagine my surprise that day when I found Lord Whatsits' maid wanted me for something other than carrying that trunk. All of thirteen years old I was, didn't think my eyes uncrossed for a tenday." He looked at her defiantly and Anna's mouth opened. "But you probably don't want to hear about the lasses I met in the cellars or the loft, aye?"

"Not really," Anna said, jarred by his answer.

"But come on. It didn't _mean_ anything. I was bored, they were bored, it was just a bit of fun."

"Yes, fun..."

"Yeah, fun! Why not? It's nice, it feels good. I don't see why it's an issue. I'm not some trophy hunter like Coran. I never lied about anything, never promised anything. The girls wanted it as much as me. What's wrong with that?"

Anna bit her lip and glared at him.

"What's wrong is, how do I know that you're not going to just treat me like one of your maids? I can't believe that you..." she shook her head. "I'm not some bored little snip. I need to know there's something more between us, something solid. Otherwise you're asking too much."

Finn looked at her. "You're reading way too much into this. Gods, this is exactly...I feel like you're always pulling from me, calling me to follow, but the minute I get close you push me away again. So which is it? In or out?"

"What?" she said, her face turning red.

"I don't want to fight, Anna. How the hells did we end up fighting here? I guess I'm asking the same thing you're asking me. I'm not a mind reader. I need to know what you're thinking, not to just be left hanging in the wind."

Finn's face was serious but it reminded Anna somehow of a petulant boy. She drew a breath but let it out again.

"In," she said.

A smile crept over his face.

"Good. See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

She pursed her lips and ran a hand over his chin.

"You...just kiss me."

"Any time, m'lady."

He laughed and fell on top of her while Anna ran her hands through his dark hair, trying to restrain her own laughter as he tickled her waist.

....

"It's getting dark. They'll be lighting the bonfires soon," Anna said, pulling Finn's arms closer around her against the coolness that began to rise up from the forest floor.

"Yeah, I suppose we should head back," he replied, nuzzling the back of her head with his chin. "Although it's the perfect time for a game of hide-and-seek."

Anna laughed at his grin as they rose to their feet.

"Imoen's getting to you, I think. Besides, you could never find me."

"Oh, yeah? And why's that?"

"Because," she said, her mouth twisting impishly. "I can do this!"

With a word her body vanished into the air.

"Hey, no fair!" Finn cried.

He lunged laughing for the spot where she stood but Anna had already ducked away from him.

"Catch me if you can!" she called from the ether.

....

She darted off into the woods, ignoring Finn's protestations. The breezes kept her trail through the undergrowth hidden and she snickered as he ran in another direction. She followed along behind him, laughing at his cries and mock-threats. He was a faster runner though and she lost sight of him amongst the trees. She was about to call out in defeat when the earth suddenly gave way under her feet.

She let out a cry but it turned into a grunt as her feet hit the ground hard. She rolled onto her knees and shielded her face from the bits of dirt and moss that rained around her, trying to gauge what just happened.

Anna saw tree roots poking through the earthen walls and the small hole above her head which let in a puddle of light. Rising to her feet she knew she'd never get back out that way without help; the gap was too far beyond her reach and there was nothing to hold on to.

_Gods_, Anna thought, _Safana was right—I have_ _fallen into a hole._

Not a hole, either, she quickly realised, but a tunnel. Looking at the damaged roots along the walls and ceiling she knew it wasn't natural, but she was at a loss for what would have dug it. Suddenly though the sign of the inn flashed in her brain and a cold chill ran through her body.

_"Finn!" _she cried through the hole. _"Finn!"_

Her cries echoed ominously around the tunnel and she fell silent, listening for the sounds of movement. Ankhegs were supposedly attuned to the slightest vibration in the earth and any nearby would have noticed her fall. She needed to get out. Taking aim she fired a missile through the hole, wishing desperately that she knew a spell of levitation.

The missile exploded above but she thought she heard a deeper noise somewhere within the tunnel. She tried to brace herself, cursing her foolishness in leaving her mage robe at the inn. The noise grew louder—a rustling of earth and a chattering click like the sound of her bones rattling. Her hands began to glow as she readied herself for the assault. She drew back slightly from the hole, her eyes focused on the dark. Her hands grew brighter in her fear, and a scream inadvertently escaped her belly at the sight of the bulbous eyes and giant pincers that appeared from the gloom.

....

She was about to attack when the tunnel above suddenly burst, sending another wave of dirt flying down with flashes of silver metal. Anna fell backwards in confusion and she heard a bold voice cry out.

_"Stand back, madam!"_

She could do little else. The man fairly filled the tunnel with his massive shield and ringing sword blows and the ankheg screamed hideously as its prey bit into its tough hide. The man grunted as the pincers struck his shield but it held fast against their strikes and the stinking acid the creature sprayed in desperation. The man cried out again and his blade tore through the ankheg's neck, slicing into the blobby flesh under its armour. It flopped to the earth and was still.

"Are you injured, madam?" the man asked, turning to her.

"N-no," Anna replied shakily. "Are you?"

"Not more than a scratch," he said from under his helmet. "I am thankful I managed to find you—I heard your cries but I could not discover where you'd fallen. We should depart this tunnel at once. These creatures are normally docile this time of year but they will not be able to resist the chance at a meal. If you would permit me?"

"Yes—_oh_," Anna said, still dazed as the man lifted her delicately upwards through the hole.

....

She gladly scrambled out into the air and called back down at the man.

"How will you get out?"

"Please stand back, madam," his muffled voice answered.

Anna stepped away from the hole and watched as the man's shield then sword poked their way through the ground. She heard a grunt and the man's head and shoulders appeared, and with a heave he managed to pull himself free from the hole, armour and all. Anna stood and stared at him, still amazed at his sudden appearance in the tunnel.

"Thank you for your aid. How is it you were here?" she managed to say. Warriors of his class weren't the sort normally found guarding tiny backwoods villages.

"I took it upon myself to patrol," he said, bending to gather his arms. "With these citizens making merry in the woods I feared they might come to some harm. It is my duty to protect, after all."

He straightened up and turned to her, removing his helmet. He was tall, though not as tall as Finn, and his broad shoulders were accented by silver pauldrons. His face could not exactly be called handsome but it had a kind serenity about it that seemed at odds with his flame-coloured hair. His fine plate armour was covered by a patched white surcoat that bore the symbol of a purple heart crossed in silver.

"Still, you have my thanks, my lord," Anna said.

She collected herself and bowed formally to him. He seemed slightly surprised but bowed in return.

"It is my honour, my lady. Sir Ajantis of Ilvastarr, Paladin of the Radiant Heart Auxiliary is at your service."

Anna bobbed again and suddenly became aware of her dusty dress.

"Lady Anna...Delainis, of Beregost."

She could not think of what made her use her father's name but she somehow felt the need to match his lengthy title. The knight smiled and bowed again. She felt slightly embarrassed but looked up hearing her name called from the trees.

....

_"So it was, so it is, so it shall be."_


	43. After the Gold Rush

Anna called back and a worried-looking Finn soon came running.

"Are you all right?" he panted. "I saw your missile—who's this?"

Finn took her by the arm and gave the man a suspicious look.

"I'm fine, thanks to him. This gentleman saved me from an ankheg attack," Anna replied, still feeling a bit embarrassed by the nature of her predicament.

"Ankhegs?" Finn repeated. "I didn't know they nested around here. They're supposed to be vicious, are you sure you're all right?"

He looked Anna over and she nodded.

"They are not uncommon in areas such as this," Ajantis said. "Fierce as they are they remain but beasts of the wilderness, driven only by instinct. They do not seek humans for prey but would not refuse one who fell into their den. We should not tarry here."

"Right. Still—thank you."

Finn warmly grasped the knight's hand and clapped him on the shoulder. He looked slightly taken aback but returned the gesture.

"Not at all, my good man. Are you able to escort this lady back to the village, or would you prefer to have a sword arm accompany you?"

"_Er_, I've got a sword arm of my own, ta."

Finn laid his hand on his weapon and gave the knight a look.

"Yes, of course," the knight said levelly. "I meant no offence, but so many young men carry weapons for show that it is difficult to discern true warriors from those following a fashion. If you say you are capable of defence however then your word is enough."

"Cheers," Finn said, and Anna had to swallow a smile.

"But if you do not require further assistance then I shall be on my way. Fare thee well. My lady," Ajantis said, and with another bow to Anna departed through the trees.

"I don't get a bow?" Finn joked after he left.

"You aren't a lady, my good man," Anna laughed. "That fellow was a knight."

"I worked that bit out. Are you really all right? What happened?"

He brushed some debris out of her hair but she pulled his hands away.

"It doesn't matter—all's well that ends well. I'm fine! Come, let's get out of here before it's completely dark."

She took his hand and they hurried through the darkening woods back to the beach.

.....

The final rays of sunlight were fading behind the hills and the crowd had mostly shifted to the sands, admiring the crackling bonfires that reflected in the water's edge. Their own group had moved closer to the water but still hung back from the local revellers.

"You've missed the lighting," Imoen said as the pair sat down. She fiddled idly with a kite and Anna thought she saw a trace of a frown.

"Sorry, we kind of lost track of time," Finn said.

He reached out and withdrew a leaf from Anna's hair, holding it up with a grin.

"I think you're sprouting," he laughed.

Anna made a noise and ran her hands over her head.

"Gods, it's everywhere," she muttered, and proceeded to undo her braids.

"We had some excitement in the woods," Finn continued, watching Anna with a pleased look.

"_Ugh_, we'd rather not know," Imoen said suddenly.

Finn looked at her. "Anna was about chopped in two by an ankheg. Sorry if that offends you somehow."

"Ankhegs?" Jaheira spoke up. "You're fortunate to be alive, they can easily kill the unwary. Whatever possessed you to go so far into the forest?"

"I lost my kite," Anna said quietly, her words sounding absurdly adolescent to her ears.

"I see..." the druid replied. "Were either of you injured?"

"I didn't do any fighting," Finn said. "Anna was rescued by a gallant knight before I could lift a finger."

"A guard?"

"No, a proper knight—a paladin, in fact. He just appeared from nowhere and killed the ankheg like nothing," Anna said.

"Seriously? Why can't I have luck like that?" Imoen commented.

"Where is he now?" Khalid asked.

"Wandered off to rescue some other damsel who's been treed by a dragon, I reckon," Finn said dryly.

"He was a member of the Radiant Heart," Anna continued. "They're based in Amn, aren't they?"

"They have various chapters but they are mainly associated with that nation, yes," Jaheira said.

"He would be brave to travel on the coast wearing the markings of Amn given these troubles," Kivan said. "All the people here speak of is their distrust for that nation."

"Brave or foolish. But there is often little difference between those traits, I have noticed," Xan remarked.

"The Knights of the Order are generally considered to be politically neutral. They travel where they are needed much like the Harpers, but in a more open way. It is interesting that he would be here, regardless," Jaheira said thoughtfully.

"It's fascinating," Finn said. "Are you feeling up to a dance?"

He grinned at Anna and gestured his head at the locals who began to wheel around the bonfires.

"I suppose so," she smiled back. "Just let me do up my hair first."

"Leave it—it's nice down," he said, taking her hands.

...

They joined other couples of young and old as they danced across the sands to the heady beat of drums and the whirling melodies of pipe and fiddle. Anna laughed as Khalid and Jaheira joined in, and Imoen took her turns with a number of eager-looking young fellows. They were too breathless to speak but Finn's eyes told of his buoyant mood and he kept her spinning long after most of the other dancers drifted away to their beds or some other private place. Only when the sun broke in the east did they finally rest. They stood still on the beach and Anna clung happily to Finn in exhaustion.

In the dawn's light they kissed, then walked hand in hand past the grey ashes of the bonfires, back towards the inn. The colours emerged as the sun rose higher and the forest rang with birdsong. Neither spoke. They did not even look at each other; there was no need. They kissed again on the inn steps and Anna slipped away, up to her own small chamber. She slid into bed and despite the bright sunlight streaming into the room she closed her eyes and drifted away, a small smile still on her lips.

.....

Anna dreamed of dancing but she grew irritated as the drummers' beats became louder and louder, drowning out the melodies. She called out for them to be quiet but they paid her no heed.

She stirred from her dream and her eyes opened. As she lay staring at the ceiling she heard a sharp _thunk_ followed by a clatter coming from the open window. It repeated and Anna rolled over, silently cursing the hapless woodsman who decided to chop firewood outside her window.

The clattering denied Anna further sleep though and she felt a tinge of guilt looking around the bright room. The sun was high, it must be noon. With a slight groan she rolled out of bed and stumbled to the window for a glance at her persecutor, but with surprise she noticed the man was none other than the knight who'd aided her the day before. His armour was gone and he wore a simple tunic but there was little mistaking the red hair and broad shoulders. He paused to wipe his brow, then freshened his grip on the axe and struck through a log with a single decisive blow, sending the halves flying to their cousins on the ground. Anna stood watching him for a moment then withdrew to dress.

.....

Heading downstairs she found Khalid and Jaheira in the largely empty tavern.

"Good morning," Anna said sleepily.

"Good afternoon," Jaheira corrected her. "Though you are not the last to rise today."

"Sorry. Are we marching out?"

"It is rather late for that. But in truth we could all use a day's rest."

"Too true," Khalid yawned.

Anna felt relief and ordered some porridge and weak ale from the maid. She found herself wishing they would journey almost anywhere other than the unknown mines; the idea of further battles made her feel numb. Based on their recent experiences the life of an adventurer was not far removed from that of a soldier, except that soldiers generally expected better support. Who aided them? Their band was doing the work of the Flaming Fist but they did it alone.

_Not always alone_, Anna thought seeing the knight enter with an armload of wood for the kitchen. She quietly pointed him out to her companions and on his way back he noticed her.

"A good afternoon to you, my lady," he said with a bow. "I hope that you have recovered well from yestereve's experience?"

"Quite well, sir," Anna replied, thinking her encounter with the ankheg wasn't the most dramatic she'd had lately. "Thank you again for your aid. _Ah_, may I introduce my esteemed companions, Jaheira and Khalid?"

The couple greeted the knight with polite words yet a slightly amused glance passed between them.

"Well met, good travellers. I am pleased that—" Ajantis broke off from his pleasantries and a keener look suddenly appeared on his face. "Forgive me, but would it be correct to say you are Harpers?"

"Indeed we are," Jaheira said. She sounded surprised and lightly touched the pin on her jerkin.

"Please excuse my boldness in questioning. I bear you no ill will, but I do take an interest in all such organisations in the region."

"We were somewhat surprised to hear that a knight of the Radiant Heart was here, as well," Jaheira said.

"Yes, these tensions between Amn and Baldur's Gate have been a heavy weight on the Order and we have sought to build a bridge between the two," he said.

"Have you heard much of news, sir?" Anna asked. "We have a strong interest in these troubles ourselves."

"Indeed, although—forgive me. I'm afraid I am not suitably attired for conversation just now."

The knight adjusted the tunic collar that clung with sweat to his neck, but Jaheira gestured to a chair.

"Do not trouble yourself, we spend much time in the wilds and appearances mean little to us. Please, sit and tell us that which you are a party to share."

"Thank you, madam," Ajantis said. He sat down but pulled the chair back slightly and wiped his brow.

"I was surprised to see you chopping wood," Anna said with a smile.

"I carry little coin, mostly preferring to earn my keep. Money may oft lead to temptation but no man ever went astray from an honest day's work. That coin I do have I give as alms."

He smiled pleasantly back but noticing Anna's smile had grown wider he looked somewhat sheepish and wiped his brow again.

"I am returning from Baldur's Gate, where I travelled on a mission of goodwill," he continued. "The Dukes received my words that neither their nation nor Amn would benefit from war but I do not know if they paid them heed. Even the recent liberation of the Nashkel mine has done little to assuage them that Amn is not behind this plague. Those that perpetrated the events remain at large, so nothing can be yet proven either way."

Anna looked at Jaheira and Khalid. The couple shared a glance and Khalid spoke.

"We have broken up the primary b-bandit camp and slain their l-leader. Although w-we have not yet found their true head, w-we believe that someone w-was conducting both the iron crisis and the b-bandit attacks, for what purpose we d-do not know."

"Truly?" Ajantis said, sitting forward. "What evidence do you have of this?"

"Not as much as we might like," Jaheira said quietly. "We—hope to acquire more, however."

"That would be of great interest to the Order. I was sent from Athkatla as part of a small delegation but we encountered a group of mercenaries attacking a caravan, and my comrades bravely sacrificed themselves to rescue the merchants." Ajantis touched his fist to his breast and his eyes drifted away for a moment. "The Dukes met me with sympathy, but although I have been a Knight of the Order for nigh on ten years I am still but a member of the Auxiliary and my words do not carry the weight of my fallen superior. If there is any way I might be of assistance, I humbly put myself at your disposal."

The trio looked at each other in surprise, and Jaheira spoke.

"That is kind of you, sir. Although I do not know if—do you not have a mission of your own to attend?"

"Please forgive me if I seem direct," Ajantis said, evidently sensing her hesitation. "I understand fully if your mission is secret. But I take it by your words that you have more direct action in mind, rather than just suspicion. The chaos in this region must end, for the good of all. I believe your kindred to be goodly folk and if I can aid you I will do so."

"He is a very good fighter," Anna spoke. "Perhaps we—although it will be..."

"My lady?" Ajantis said.

Jaheira sighed. "What my companion no doubt means to say is that our mission may be exceptionally dangerous, although in truth we have no idea what, if anything, will await us at the end of our trail. We are not adverse to your accompanying us, Sir Ajantis, but neither do we wish to give false impressions."

"I see," he said slowly. "Perhaps if you would be willing to tell what your mission is?"

Jaheira looked around, but seeing no one within earshot she spoke low.

"We have discovered some mentions of a hidden iron mine that may be in the bandits' control. We do not know exactly where the mine is, however, and we are travelling mostly on an educated guess. We may find nothing, as I said."

"And you think this mine important?" Ajantis said, rubbing his thumb over his brow thoughtfully.

"It is all we have to go on."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"It seems a worthy cause. I completed my mission in Baldur's Gate, but something about this affair drives me to do more. I have the itch, it would seem."

He smiled again, though somewhat gravely. Khalid looked at Jaheira and she nodded.

"We should speak w-with our other companions, b-but we cannot deny that your aid would be of use if y-you are willing to give it. Could y-you be ready to travel on the morrow?"

"I am ready today, if need be."

Khalid opened his mouth to reply but shut it again hearing an odd banging noise coming from somewhere below their feet. A moment later Anna heard the landlord's voice coming loud from the kitchen, and he strode out to speak with them.

"That fellow ye've got down there is one noisy beggar, all right. Tried to give him sommat to eat and he about kicked the door clean through! All I could do to keep him locked in. Fellow was tame as all get out yesterday, but he's got it into his head to fight today. You need to see to him."

Jaheira groaned. "Very well. Anna, could you ask Xan to tend to him? I believe he is in his room."

Anna nodded and rose from the table, swallowing a smile again as Ajantis also rose out of politeness. She left the three to discuss plans and made her way upstairs, entering the elf's chamber at his response to her knock.

.....

She found him sitting in a chair by the bed, looking over the spells from the bandit camp. He frowned slightly as she stepped in the room.

"Yes?"

She could tell by the way Xan sat that he was in one of his moods, and feeling sprightly she gave him her warmest smile.

"Good afternoon," she said.

His eyes raised over the top of a parchment. "Good afternoon... _Er_, I assume this is not a social call. Is there something you need?"

_Pleasant as ever_, she thought.

"The prisoner has started to act up, and Jaheira asked if you could see to him. What do you think?" she asked, gesturing to the scrolls.

Xan's eyes half-shut and he rubbed his forehead. Anna looked at him but he spoke.

"You were right to be concerned, a few do indeed call on the Shadow Weave. Though I'm surprised you couldn't detect that straight away. Everything about them feels—wrong. Even their weight in the hand is wrong." He nodded to the scrolls that sat apart from the others on his bed. "Why people are tempted to dabble in such things I will never know. Is Shar's promise of power worth upsetting the Weave and all of existence as we know it? Still, I might as well deal with both these problems now. Would you come with me?"

He gathered up the dark scrolls and Anna followed him down the creaking steps into the slightly dusty cellar. Xan paused before the storeroom door and looked at her. She nodded and raised her hands, ready to cast a spell if his enchantments failed to hold. He threw open the door and the prisoner leaped to his feet but before he could make a step towards freedom the elf managed to catch his will again.

_"Aiya,"_ Xan exclaimed and pressed a kerchief to his face.

"Are you alright?"

Xan muttered an affirmative from behind the fabric. After a moment he drew it away, trying to wipe the smeared blood from his upper lip.

"You needn't stare, I am fine," he sniffed.

"You don't seem fine," Anna replied.

"Thank you," he said dryly. "It happens sometimes if I strain my abilities. Usually it fades within a day."

"But not this time?"

He glared at her in spite of her sympathetic tone. "This time, no. I cannot rest and meditate properly while maintaining this prisoner, and if you must know I have had a headache since our battle at the camp. I did take on too much, it seems."

"The innkeeper might have some yarrow for the nosebleeds, and I have plenty of willow bark if you'd like some for your headaches. My head still troubles me from time to time—I know how disruptive it can be."

She smiled a little and he regarded the kerchief with a sigh.

"I would appreciate that, if you have any to spare. I prefer not to trouble Jaheira with such minor complaints and it is something of a trade affliction anyway. I have no one but myself to blame, regardless. Skullcap and valerian have always proved helpful but I have used most of my supplies."

Anna nodded but said nothing. The medicines he mentioned acted as nerve tonics as much as headache remedies, and she thought then if his ongoing troubles didn't have a source beyond overuse of his abilities. She'd never thought of persistent melancholy as a complaint amongst the elves, but now she wondered.

.....

"I shall see these scrolls destroyed," Xan said, locking the prisoner in once more. "I suppose you will be attending to your spells?"

His voice had something of an odd edge.

"I'll study later, I only just woke up."

She laughed a little but Xan looked like he'd swallowed something unpleasant.

"You have barely opened your spellbook since we left the camp. Do you even have your basic spells memorised?"

"Of course," Anna said, surprised. "I've been exhausted is all, we all have been."

"Indeed, but I at least—never mind."

He sighed and headed for the stairs but Anna spoke.

"Please don't start this again, Xan. If you have something to say, then say it."

She folded her arms and felt her heart flop strangely with nerves. Xan paused, then turned and faced her with a hard look.

"Very well. If you must know, I do not think you have been putting the care into your work that you should. I noticed from the first that your spellcasting was rather loose, but lately you seem unable to devote to it even the brief amount of time you did before. I have kept it to myself, but the problem seems to be growing worse."

"What standard are you using to work that out?" she flashed. "I'm sorry if I don't keep my nose in my book from dawn till dusk, but I fail to see how my magic suffers. You obviously haven't been on peak form yourself, either."

She tossed her head, feeling a twinge of guilt at the statement but it was swallowed by her anger at the elf's criticism.

"Perhaps," he said through gritted teeth. "But I at least have reasons, and have tried to compensate for my shortcomings. You however..."

"Yes?" Anna demanded.

The elf drew in a sharp breath. "I am loath to mention it, but I've travelled with enough adventuring companies to be familiar with the casual bed-hopping that occurs on the road. And it is becoming clear that your...interests are affecting your work."

Anna felt her face flame. Her mouth opened but she struggled to speak.

"_What_...? Could you possibly be more insulting? How can you... What business is it of yours anyway, I'd like to know?"

Xan glared back. "It was not my intention to insult you, I was simply making an observation. I have very little interest in your romantic life, believe me. But when such foolishness begins to affect your performance in the group I do take notice, as it has an impact on me. These ongoing dramatics are indeed affecting your magic, whether you notice it or not."

"Is that what you think? Honestly? That I've been so lovestruck that I can't remember my spells?" Anna fumed. "There's more going on than that, Xan, much more."

In her anger she spoke without thinking. She felt herself growing redder and her mouth clapped shut and she looked down at the cellar floor.

"Tell me, then."

Anna's eyes shot back to the elf. He spoke quietly but looked at her with that unreadable, falsely neutral expression he often wore. She suddenly felt bare and hurried past him without another word, up out of the cellar and out of the inn.

.....

She stood on the porch for a moment, trying to collect herself. Xan's statement sounded anything but casual; there was a barely-concealed sharpness behind it that made her wonder if the elf knew—something. Gazing out over the village she was surprised to see Finn sitting on a barrel outside a merchant's shop, talking to two young lads. His laugh drifted over and she relaxed slightly. She brushed her hands over her hair and walked up to them.

"Hey, Anna," Finn said happily. She smiled but he seemed to notice something in her expression. "All right?"

"Yes, fine."

She gave him a peck on the cheek, eliciting teases from the boys.

"Quiet, you," Finn laughed. Anna forced a laugh too and noticed he was carving a small piece of wood.

"What are you making?"

"You'll see," he said mysteriously.

"He's making a _present_," one of the boys chirped.

_"Oi, _mouth,_"_ Finn said, giving his hair a ruffle.

"I think that knight might be joining us," Anna said for conversation.

"Really?" he replied. His lip curled a little and he held the wood closer to examine it. "Don't know how all that armour's going to fare in the forest. Guess we could use the help, though."

"Are you going into the woods?" The other boy asked.

"Maybe," Finn said.

"You do, you'd better watch out for the wood witch. You're not careful she'll get you, sure enough," the boy drawled importantly.

"Wood witch?" Finn asked. "What witch?"

"The witch what lives in the wood," the boy repeated with a laugh. "She's some old crone. She's all wrinkled up and little and her eyes are all red, but she's stronger than a grown man. Granddad says he's seen her once when he was young, but he ran real fast and she didn't catch him."

"You wouldn't be having me on now, would you?" Finn said lightly.

"No," the other boy said earnestly. "Sometimes people here go into the forest and they never come back. The woodsmen say that in some spots, there's trees what look like _people_. They've got people's faces, and the wind sounds like somebody calling out for help. It's the witch's doing, sure enough."

"Well, if we do meet this witch it's a good thing I've got my sword to hand, eh lads?" Finn joked.

"But she's got _magic_."

"And so do I," Anna smiled.

The boys exclaimed and begged for a display but a woman leaned out of a door, calling them back home. They reluctantly departed and Finn chuckled.

"Sounds like an old wives' tale to me. If half the things that were supposed to be in the woods back home actually were there we'd have never left the gates. The worst I ever saw was gibberlings."

"Maybe," Anna said. "But Cloakwood is ancient, there's no telling what might be lurking there. We may find ourselves longing for the humble gibberling!"

"Too true. Hey—"

_"Hm?"_

She looked up and Finn leaned down to kiss her. A smile grew over her lips and she brushed her hands across his face.

"Do you want to go down to the water?" he asked.

"_Um_...maybe later," she said. "I think I'm going to study."

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

He spoke lightly but gave her something of a look.

"Yes," she said, trying to smile. "Why don't we go for a walk later?"

"Alright," he said. "But I'm going to hold you to that, you know."

She gave him another peck and headed slowly back to the inn.

.....

Anna spent hours in her room, doing her best to ignore the bright sunshine and feeling something like a naughty child under punishment. She bristled whenever she thought of Xan's comments but couldn't deny that he at least had some point. She hadn't been studying as much as she should, though the elf's reasons weren't the entire truth. She thought too of how complicated her life had become these past few months. Ruefully she remembered the times she'd lingered over her garden, alone, daydreaming of some excitement to perk up the all-too-familiar round of day to day. She mentally reached back in time and gave herself a hard pinch.

When Finn's knock finally sounded on her door she needed little convincing to step out into the fresh air. The day was still sunny but the air was slightly cooler than it had been of late and Anna walked gladly through the trees, letting it fill her lungs with the summer sweetness.

They made their way to the now empty beach and sat in the warm sands. Anna plucked a long pine needle from the sand and played with it thoughtfully, looking out over the water that seemed like wavering blue satin. She looked up to notice that Finn was smiling at her.

"Are you tired?"

"A little," she smiled back. "You kept me up well past the hour of decency last night."

He grinned. "Dreadful, aren't I? You might start thinking we need some old maid for a chaperone. I wonder what Xan's up to?"

Anna grimaced at the mention of his name.

"_Ugh_, anyone but him, thank you."

"Something up?"

She shook her head. "No. We just had a few...words this afternoon."

"Is that why you were acting odd? What's he said now?"

"Nothing. He...just thought I haven't been studying as much as I should."

Finn made a noise. "I ought to talk to him, tell him to mind his own bloody business. You're as good a wizard as any I've met."

Anna smiled a little. "Thanks. But don't say anything, will you? I don't want to drag this out. Besides, he's not entirely wrong."

"All right. But next time the _taraer_ flubs a spell I'm going to be all over him."

"The what?" Anna asked.

"_Taraer_. Lofty one, snob. Elvish, don't you know."

"You speak Elvish?"

"Sure," Finn shrugged. "I have had an education, as you seem to keep forgetting. Some of my tutors were elves."

"I know, but Imoen said she didn't remember much Quenya so I assumed you didn't, either," Anna said quickly.

"Well, you know me—full of surprises! I studied a lot longer than she did, anyway."

"I can't argue with that," she laughed. "I'm surprised you've never said anything though, considering we're travelling with elves."

"Yeah, well, sometimes it's good to keep a little mystery," Finn said, leaning back on his elbows. "Nothing wrong with knowing what people are saying behind your back, eh?"

Anna raised an eyebrow. "So—you did hear what Coran said that day in Peldvale? I thought you looked like you did."

"I picked up enough to get the drift," Finn said. He grasped a small stone and sent it hurling into the lake.

"I'm surprised you didn't say anything."

"Like I said. He thought he was the cleverest fellow that ever lived, sneaking in under my nose. But hey, if it made him happy thinking that... He was a bit taken aback when I finally did have a word with him, though."

Finn chuckled to himself and Anna looked at him.

"What did you say?"

"_Hm?_ Oh, the usual. Coran would go after anything in a skirt—Xan's lucky he didn't hit the wine too hard some night and mistake that robe for a dress!"

He laughed but something in his tone made Anna look at him harder. He avoided her gaze and looked out over the water.

"Do you not like elves very much?" Anna asked, giving up on her train of thought.

"Depends on the elf. I tend to take people as they come. They'd visit the keep quite a bit—some were great, others you wanted to toss down a well. It's the ones with attitude I can't stand, the ones that acted like they were doing you a favour by letting you stand in the same room as them. _N'Tel'Quess_...not people. I think that pretty well sums it up."

"I suppose so," Anna replied.

"But I couldn't stand snobs of any kind," Finn continued, warming a bit. "Like with all the nobles that would visit—half of them probably didn't open a book the entire time they were there, just sitting around instead gorging themselves at Winthrop's table while their bored wives made eyes at the guards. They'd travel all that way just so they could show off to their snooty friends back home how learned they were. I made the mistake of correcting this lord one time, when he was pronouncing loudly on something completely arse-backwards. He actually demanded that I get a flogging for speaking outside my place!"

"Did you?" Anna asked.

"Of course not. They'd given up on that years back—I used to get the rod a fair bit as a lad."

"Oh. I'm thankful that my aunt and uncle were rather gentle in their discipline," Anna said.

Finn's face looked grim. "Lucky you. Round mine it was a crack on the head for asking, and another for not asking. Gorion didn't like to do it, but...anyway."

"What?"

He sighed. "It was the head monk, the Keeper of the Tomes, Ulraunt. He's a hard-nosed sort, always insisted that a firm hand was the best way to raise a child. He might've had a point, though. I could be a little terror when I wanted. Gorion tried his best, but sometimes I think I'd have been better off raised in a proper home, not some draughty monastery where I was told to hush every five seconds."

"It sounds like he loved you, though," Anna said gently.

"Yeah, he did," he replied quietly. "I used to wonder sometimes, though. He'd disappear now and then, sometimes for months. He'd never tell me where or why. I thought it was because I'd been bad, that he'd finally gotten sick of me. But kids think stupid things, and I didn't know about the Harpers at the time."

"Were you really that bad as a child?"

"I'm not the one to ask," Finn said with a little laugh. "I think I was just more bored than anything. _Not_ like that," he said in response to Anna's look. "Before Imoen came I was pretty much on my own. I used to catch mice and let them loose near the monks who were chanting Alaundo's prophecies. They'd run right over their shoes sometimes, but they never budged an inch."

"A little scamp indeed," Anna said, her eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," he laughed. "But sometimes...I remember once in Ulraunt's lessons. He was just droning on and on and I was desperate for him to finish so I could go outside and play. I asked him if he was done, and out of spite he just makes the lesson longer. I got so mad I started tearing pages out of my book, right there in front of him. He just stared at me, like..."

He trailed off and Anna spoke quietly.

"Finn?"

"Nothing," he said, giving his head a shake. "He dragged me up by my ears and gave me the worst thrashing I'd ever had. I suppose I deserved it, who knows how much that book was worth? But he called me a wicked child. He said he always knew I was a wicked child. That _did_ hurt. Who says something like that to a little lad? But I suppose he never really liked me being there, anyway."

Anna gave him a stricken glance and he managed a grin.

"Oh, don't worry about it. He was just a tight-arse who didn't know anything about kids. They hardly kept me in the dungeon. Gods, I do sound like I'm wallowing in self-pity, don't I? I was happy most of the time. Gorion used to take us down to the coast, and he'd tell so many stories...I wish I could remember them all. And some of the monks were great. Tethtoril, the First Reader, he used to always keep a crock of peppermint sweets on his desk—he said they aided the mind, although I never saw him eating them. I knew he just kept them because I liked them. It was a good life there."

They were both quiet, watching the tiny waves lapping the sands. Anna looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His expression seemed mellow but his lips pursed just slightly. His eyes squinted, but hers did too in the bright light. A breeze played its invisible fingers through his dark hair and she noticed it was growing longer. She noticed too the shape of his arms underneath the thin, cream-coloured tunic. He glanced up at her with the same expression but his face softened when he noticed her looking at him.

"What will you do, when all this is over?" she asked suddenly. "It's bound to end sometime."

"Yeah, but will we be alive to see it? Sorry," he said. "I honestly don't know. Candlekeep seems a million miles away, I don't think I'd go back there. It would be too strange without Gorion. What would you do?"

"It's funny, but I don't know either," she said quietly. "I always thought I'd just go back to Beregost. You know, I'd really like to go home—my real home, back in the Dales. I haven't seen my family in years. My aunt sends me letters about everything, telling me how the farm is doing, who's had a baby, but...it's a long way away."

"I suppose so," Finn said.

His lips pursed again and he looked at the sands.

"It always seems like you have all the time in the world. But you don't notice the summers going by, one after another. Not until you look back at them and see that they're gone. Like birds flying over the horizon," she said quietly.

Finn cleared his throat, and Anna thought his eyes looked strange.

"It's a good thing then, that we're here now."

She nodded and he pulled her close. She lay on top of him on the sands, resting her head on his chest and feeling the warmth of his body blending with the heat of the beach and the sun upon her back. She stretched out one hand and sunk her fingers into the sands, down past the dusty heat of the surface to where it was moist and cool. She shut her eyes and they lay still together for a long time.


	44. Salix

Raising her eyes from her pack Anna glanced out the window at the rising sun. It pierced the trees and sent an intense light into the chamber, making the gold braid on the hem of her robe shine against the green. A sliver of the orange ball rose up from the horizon and she regarded it between the silhouettes of trees until the pain of the light made her look away.

They'd formalised their plans with the knight the evening before. Though the suspected mine was still some ways to the north they decided to head northwest from the village, hoping to find an easier place to cross the Cloakwood Hills that grew more rugged as they marched north. Ajantis expressed some dismay when he learned the party travelled on foot and spent a long time in the small stable bidding his mount farewell. The innkeeper in a notable act of generosity agreed to care for the animal free of charge until the knight returned, evidently figuring the goodwill of a fellowship of knights was more valuable than oats and hay. A fair amount of coin was spent however convincing him to manage the prisoner until the Flaming Fist made a pass through the village. Anna had been surprised at Jaheira's quickness to agree to his terms, but the bandit was baggage that they were all happy to drop.

With the last articles stowed except for a small cloth sack Anna pulled the pack buckles tight with a little grunt. Her cloak she rolled up with her blankets and secured them to the bottom of the pack; the weather was too warm now for wool.

Hoisting her burden she took the pouch, headed into the hall and rapped sharply on a door. Anna had managed to avoid talking with Xan since their discussion in the cellar but she still felt the need to follow up on her offer. She waited, feeling oddly nervous until the elf undid the lock. He seemed surprised to see her and she spoke before he could.

"I've brought you that willow bark," she said, handing him the bundle.

"Ah," he replied, gingerly taking the pouch. "I managed to purchase some from the merchant yesterday, but thank you."

"Oh, if you don't need it..." she said, feeling her face growing warm.

"Do you need it?" he asked.

"Not really."

She reached somewhat awkwardly for the bundle but stopped.

"Well, I...shall keep it then," he said, then cleared his throat. "Since you are here, I wanted to apologise for my words yesterday. Regardless of the situation they were...inappropriate, and I am sorry."

She looked at him with surprise.

"Don't concern yourself. There was some truth in them, anyway."

"Perhaps, but it is not my place to pass judgement on such matters. Although..." Xan hesitated again. "I will say that whatever is troubling you, it isn't likely to just disappear."

"Why should there be trouble?" Anna said sharply.

"I do not know," he sighed. "But it is worth bearing in mind. I must finish packing though, would you excuse me?"

Anna muttered something and Xan retreated back into his room. She hurried downstairs, trying to shake off that queer feeling again.

........

With their packs ready and various boarding bills paid the party headed off into the forest on a well-worn, winding little path. The trees there were tall and their canopies spread wide but plenty of sunlight peeked through for Kivan to judge their heading. Anna watched him shading his eyes with a palm, searching for the light above. Jaheira left Khalid's side and came to speak with him.

"I fear this path is taking us too far west," she said.

"I spoke with a man of the village, he said this trail crosses a northerly-flowing stream," Kivan replied, not taking his eyes off the path. "The water will be a useful guide."

"Aye, but the mine is likely at the base of the hills. We may lose much time marching this way."

She unrolled the parchment that hung from its tube at her side and examined it. Oddly Kivan glared at the map as though it had said rude things about his mother.

"I do not see the point of following this dwarven paper. I would have us travel up the eastern side of the hills and trace the bandits' location from there. If they are indeed taking metal from this wood they would leave a strong trail behind them."

Jaheira looked up from the map. "Whatever your thoughts on the dwarves, my good elf, it remains that they have explored this area in full and we have not. And you may rest better knowing there are no stout folk here to tell the tale that an elf of the forest was lead by a path of their making."

Kivan said nothing but his mouth twitched just slightly at the druid's jibe.

.........

Anna noticed that Imoen seemed to take an unusual interest in Ajantis and she walked near his side from the time they left the inn, peppering him with her usual array of questions that mingled the serious and saucy together at a confusing frequency.

"So, how do you get to be a knight?" she asked. "I'm going to be a mage but it's always good to keep your options open, you know?"

She grinned at him and Anna could see the somewhat befuddled paladin weighing the question in his mind.

"It is a calling, but in many ways it is no different than any other trade a man might engage in. One must first find a sponsor who is willing to take the young man or woman as a squire. From there one works hard and studies diligently to please Helm and live up to the ideals of the Order."

"Sounds like fun. How do you find a sponsor? Do you advertise?"

She smiled again and he coughed a little.

"_Ah_, no. Most of us have familial ties to the Order and the sponsor is normally a relative. I had the fortune of being squired under my uncle, Sir Keldorn Firecam, one of our most distinguished paladins," Ajantis said proudly.

"_Mmm._ I don't have any relatives who're knights that I know of, so I guess I'd have to marry in. There must be plenty of single knights around—all that sword polishing probably doesn't leave a lot of time for courting. What about you, Sir Ajantis? Do you have a missus back home?"

She bit her lip and looked up at him sweetly. Ajantis' face began to match his hair and he looked back at the trail.

"Nay, I have no lady. Although I would likewise enquire—"

"Yes?" Imoen said lightly.

"How it is that so young a girl became associated with a mission of such danger," he said, turning to her with a firm look. "I understand that you are Finn's sister, but I must say you would be much better served being at home, learning an honest trade rather than endangering yourself here."

Imoen's own face turned red and her mouth fell open.

"So young? I'm not young, I'm—_nineteen_ if you must know!"

Finn began to laugh heartily and Imoen whirled on him.

"Oh, just—shut up!"

She tossed her head and stamped off to the front of the column, Finn still chuckling after her.

"I think you just earned yourself an enemy for life, mate," he said to Ajantis.

"It was a serious statement," the knight said quietly. "I would not wish my sister to join me on such a quest."

Finn grimaced. "It wasn't my first choice, either. But she's here now, and I don't think she'd leave even if I told her to."

"It is the hair," Ajantis said. "My father always did say that those with red hair have the stubbornness of a mule. It is an affliction in my family, I'm afraid."

Finn laughed again. "I think you might be right. Our Imoen was always as partial to being led around as a cat, but I can't say I'm much different. Don't worry though, I'll keep an eye on her."

Ajantis smiled a little but his eyes still looked grave. He happened to glance at Anna. She gave him a quick smile and his eyes lightened somewhat.

...

Finn took Anna's hand and she felt him slowing their pace till they walked some ways behind the others. She looked up at him with a crooked little smile.

"I don't know that we're best off bringing up the rear together—we might become somewhat distracted."

"Well, I'll just have to keep my ears open then," he grinned, bending to catch her in a kiss.

"Do you think he's right about Imoen?" Anna asked, watching the girl walking ahead of them. Her auburn head was up and her short legs strode with determination.

"I know he is," Finn said slowly.

"You could've sent her back to Candlekeep at any time. You still could now."

"I could. I've thought about that a lot. But...hard as it is to believe, she's not really a kid anymore. And as much as I want to treat her like my little sister she's made up her own mind. It's not really for me to tell her to stay or to go."

Anna squeezed his hand and he grasped hers back.

"I think Gorion made the right choice in bringing her to Candlekeep. You two keep each other on your toes," she said.

"You might say that," he laughed. "Funny how we seem so alike in a lot of ways. I guess people growing up together pick up some of the same traits."

"I suppose. I wish I'd had siblings," Anna said. "It can be a bit lonely growing up on your own."

"Well, I'm here now," Finn replied. Anna blushed a little but smiled.

"I wasn't entirely alone," she said. "My aunt and uncle have children but their youngest was years older than me, so growing up I had to amuse myself a lot of the time."

"Weren't there any other kids around? You said you lived in a manor."

"Oh, yes. I used to play with them but my aunt thought the farm children were a bit rough for me. She nearly fainted that day she found me paddling around with them in the mill pond," Anna laughed.

"No mixing with the commoners?"

"Not exactly," Anna said slowly. "There was some of that, but mostly I just think she was over-protective. She doted on my mother and it broke her heart when she died."

"I see."

"There was quite an age gap between them, almost fifteen years," she continued. "Aunt Neala was the oldest but my grandparents lost their two youngest children. They didn't think to have any more and when my mother arrived everyone treated her like a little doll."

"How did your mother die, if you don't mind me asking? You never did say. I don't think you've even told me her name."

Anna started. "Haven't I? Her name was Elena. She took ill one winter and died soon after. She always was rather delicate, I've heard. She hadn't even been seen by a healer."

Anna bit her lip and stared hard at the path. Finn looked at her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. It's just...my aunt always blamed my father for that. My parents were quite poor and the three of us were living in some attic rooms in Ashabenford. Father's wages were small and he never wanted to take money from the family. There wasn't much coin for firewood, let alone medicines. Young as I was I remember having to wear my cape and mitts in the house, it was so cold. My father said mother didn't think she was ill enough for a healer but my aunt still never forgave him."

"That's kind of surprising, I always pictured you being pretty well off," Finn said.

"Later I was, but my father barely had a copper to his name when my parents married. My aunt said once that he was the only noble that didn't have a pot to piss in. She was this proper, polite little woman and it's the only time I've ever heard her swear," she laughed to herself.

Finn smiled a little. "You talk about her quite a bit. Were you close?"

"I suppose we were," Anna said. "I used to resent her sometimes, she always seemed so...particular. She was soft-spoken but strong-willed. Neala could say more with her silences than with words."

"I guess I know where you get that from, then," Finn laughed.

Anna threw him a look but chuckled and they walked along together, watching the sights of the forest.

.......

They came at last to the stream, a narrow little brook that went splashing busily over algae-covered rocks. Kingfishers and other birds scouted for their meals along the banks and clouds of insects hovered in the shady spots. After a short rest they followed the bank northwards, wading through knee-high grasses and flowers of red and purple and gold.

Anna gradually became aware of a different feel to the trees; they shortened and widened, their dense canopies intertwining above their heads. Despite the shade the air seemed strangely warm and heavy and her feet stumbled tiredly as she wondered how much longer it was until noon.

She shook her head and drew a deep breath, trying to brush off her fatigue. The group's light chatter dried up but she was happy not having to put the effort into speech. The air was rich with the scent of growing things and the birdsong blended into a pleasant hum. Watching a fat bumblebee hovering over some flowers on the opposite bank she almost fancied she could hear its buzz.

Willow trees grew along the bank there, and walking past one she let her hand flow through the weeping fronds. Gazing under the canopy she noted the size of the ancient tree's twisted trunk. Warts and knots covered the rough bark and in the play of light Anna almost fancied she saw a human face. A breeze broke through the trees and the leaves made a sound like falling rain. Anna shivered and let the fronds slip back.

Finally Jaheira called for a halt and Anna gladly slumped to the forest floor. She thought it strange that she felt so tired after an easy morning's march, but she shrugged it off and mechanically picked at one of the seed cakes they'd brought from the inn. Finn sprawled out next to her and broke into a heavy yawn.

"Gods, I'm knackered," he said. Anna nodded slightly but didn't respond.

They all sat still and quiet in the pleasant warmth. Ajantis sat with his head between his knees, blinking at the ground. Jaheira and Khalid leaned together against a tree. The druid jerked her head up and looked into the trees as if she saw something frightening but leaned back against her husband's shoulder. Xan had his spellbook on his lap as usual but Anna slowly realised he hadn't opened it. He looked around at the others with a frown. Imoen curled up on her side and her eyes drifted shut.

Kivan alone seemed animated, wandering restlessly around the group but not straying more than a few feet away. His activity made Anna more tired and she wished he would sit down. She wanted to sleep but she knew she couldn't rest with his pacing. She rose up on light legs and wandered away to find someplace quiet.

.......

Anna drifted through the trees and their canopies seemed to lighten around her. Warm sunlight pierced through and it felt good on her arms. The heavy weight in her head cleared and she walked with no effort at all, her feet barely imprinting on the grass. A glint of blue and silver caught her eye and she smiled with wonder as a large butterfly drifted into view.

_I know you_, she thought, and suddenly she knew where she was. She'd been there before. The butterfly danced in front of her, then fluttered like a leaf into the trees. Anna let out a happy chuckle and flew after it.

_"Not this time, you won't get away!"_

She called out merrily but her words made no sound. The butterfly glinted enticingly beyond her grasp, disappearing for a moment behind the trees but always re-emerging just ahead. Anna hurried after it, calling out again as they went further and further into the forest. She had no idea where the others were but she ceased to care. All she wanted in the world was that perfect, satin creature.

The butterfly slipped behind a tree but when Anna caught up with it, it was gone. She circled the trunk and looked all around but it was nowhere to be seen. With a shudder she realised the sun had vanished and the air was dark. The tree trunks stood up all around her like monoliths, so high she couldn't see their tops. In terror she realised she was alone. She fell to her knees and let out a low, anguished wail.

.........

_"Oh, don't cry."_

Through her tears Anna looked up, hearing a rich voice calling to her. A beautiful young woman stepped silently from the trees. Her dress was verdant green and she wore a golden mantle that glowed with a warmth that replaced the lost sun. Coils of yellow hair decorated her head and she smiled softly down upon her.

_"Mother?"_ Anna asked hesitantly.

_"Is that what you name me?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then I am mother."_

She came and kneeled beside Anna, smoothing a warm hand over her brow.

_"I'm sorry, mother." _Anna said.

_"Whatever for, my darling child?"_

_"For running. I ran away after you told me to stay close, not to play in the trees...I didn't listen. You were so angry...I'm sorry."_

The woman smiled again.

_"It doesn't matter, I'm here now. And look..."_

Her mother pointed to Anna's folded hands. She gasped feeling a tickling movement and opened her palms to see the butterfly resting safely within. It sat on her hand, its iridescent wings slowly opening and closing as it breathed softly. A quiet smile spread over her face and she touched it with gentle fingertips.

_"Such a pretty child," _her mother said, regarding Anna with a tender look. "_Now come, darling. It is time to go."_

_"Go where?"_

Her mother rose up and reached for her hand.

_"Home, of course. Where you will be safe."_

_"Safe from what?"_

_"Do not question mother. Come, there is not much time."_

Her mother's golden smile faded as she glanced off into the dark trees. Anna looked down at the butterfly resting on her fist. It still shone brightly but she thought it looked cold.

_"Come now, child," _the woman said, but Anna ignored her.

_"Cold...my mother is cold," _she whispered to herself.

_"We must leave now," _her mother repeated, growing more agitated.

_"Why?" _Anna asked again.

_"There...do you not see?"_

She gestured with a pale hand towards the trees. Anna turned. Somewhere in the distance a light shone and she could see a figure moving. She saw only a silhouette but it seemed large and lumbering, its proportions elongated and strange. It hadn't noticed them and kept walking slowly through the trees. Though she had no idea why the sight of it filled her heart with cold terror.

_"What is that?" _Anna whispered.

_"No," _her mother said suddenly, shaking her head and staring off into space. _"No! You won't take her!"_

Anna smelled something strange and looked up, puzzled. Her mother continued shouting.

"_Bad man! Bad man! She will be safe! Stop..."_

She placed her hand on Anna's forehead again, but this time it was cold. Anna shuddered and gasped and looked down at the butterfly. It seemed to grow larger and larger but Anna realised her eyes were growing stronger. Every tiny feather of its wings was bare to her sight and she felt herself drawn further in, gazing beyond their blue. An open sky waited beyond, just waiting for her to fly in.

.......

"Anna!"

Another voice pierced her reverie and she broke her gaze from the butterfly. The woman cried out again.

_"No! Go away! Bad man!"_

"You shall leave, not I. You have no right here. Release this woman at once!" the other voice commanded.

_"No! She is my child! She will be safe!"_

"She is not your child. Anna, hear me—drive this creature from your mind!"

Anna looked around in confusion. She knew that voice, but it had no name. She glanced at mother, her beautiful face now stricken and wild. She reached imploringly for Anna.

_"No...don't go with him. Come with me."_

She spoke in a hoarse whisper, her voice ending in a sound that reminded Anna of willow fronds blowing in the wind.

_Willow..._

The memory of that morning struck her like a bolt. She remembered air and trees and sunlight. She remembered the faces of her companions. She remembered—Finn. She looked down at the butterfly, and with a cry she mashed it in her hands.

....

The crushed insect released an acrid smell and Anna choked and coughed. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy and her eyes that she thought were open drew apart. An elf with a knotted brow rested his hands on her temples but let them drop when he saw her looking at him.

"Thank Corellon, it has released you. Are you all right? Can you speak?"

She looked at him but coughed again from the keen odour.

"Anna!"

Another figure leaned over her and she recognised the worried face.

"Finn—" she whispered. "What...happened?"

"Some entity tried to catch us in a spell—only Kivan and myself escaped the effects," the first man spoke. Anna looked at him.

"Xan?" she said slowly.

"Yes. It is good you can remember. I managed to dispel the enchantment on the others but it seized hold of you for some reason. I'm sorry, but I had to enter your mind to help you drive it away."

"It was like being stuck in a dream," Finn said. "We all woke up, but you were just lying there, like..."

He broke off.

"Why did it want me?" Anna coughed, trying to sit up. "What is that smell?"

"The odour is part of the spell, not pleasant but it keeps the mind clear. I cannot say why it focused on you. From what little I saw it seemed determined to protect you, though from what I don't know," Xan said with a frown.

"No," she said, confused. "It—it was trying to kill me. It wanted me to die."

She shuddered and looked up at Finn. A frightened look passed over his face and he grabbed her tightly.

"We must leave here now," another elf said, and Anna recognised him as Kivan. "Carry her if need be but we cannot linger. There is strong magic here."

"Yes," Xan replied. "It crept over us like a rainshower and I barely sensed it until it was fully open. I believe I frightened it away, but this is its home and it will return."

"What did this?" Imoen groaned, rubbing her head.

"It's the wood witch that lad mentioned, it must be," Finn said, helping Anna to her feet.

"A witch?" Xan asked.

"Yesterday a boy told us a tale about a crone that lives in the woods, that turns people into trees. She must've been trying to make timber out of us."

"And you did not see fit to mention this?" Jaheira remarked.

"I thought it was just a tale. Do you think I'd be wandering around out here if I took it seriously?"

"Tales generally have some hold in fact. But good Kivan is right, we should press on before this crone rallies her magic. Let the Vigilant One guide our trail," Ajantis said.

"Did this boy say for certain it was a crone?" Xan asked Finn as they departed.

"Yeah, he was pretty descriptive on that end. Why?"

"The spell did not feel like the sort normally cast by human wizards. It was much more...subtle, and organic."

"Whatever she is, we come across her again she's going to eat steel," Finn growled in reply.

Anna looked up at him and saw his eyes burning. He glanced down at her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. Xan said nothing but sighed as they all hurried onwards.

......

"You look pretty dazed," Finn said to her. "Did that crone hurt you?"

"No," Anna replied. "It's strange, but I feel fine now. It's just—she took the form of my mother. It's unnerving."

"Did she? Must be the way she works. I saw Gorion in my dream. We were in the woods and he was walking ahead of me—I kept trying to catch up with him but he never turned around. I tried calling out, but I couldn't. It felt like I was walking in circles forever."

"_Dina_," Kivan said quietly. He tensed and began walking nearer to the ground. "Something is watching."

The slight clattering of armour and footsteps that followed them everywhere came to a halt and the group stood still, listening. Glancing around the pleasant forest glade Anna found it hard to believe that evil resided there but their earlier experience spoke otherwise. She imagined she felt a bright tingle in the air that shivered along her backbone, but it might have been nerves.

Kivan crouched down and spoke into the trees, or at least it sounded as if he were speaking. A series of strange, quiet noises like the rustling of leaves left his lips but they seemed meaningful. He stopped speaking and remained perfectly still, his eyes focused on the undergrowth. After a moment Anna noticed the bark of a tree rippling slightly. Her heart flopped as a perfectly-camouflaged figure pulled away from the trunk and made a cautious step forward.

...

It looked like a miniature woman, slender in build and smaller in height than a gnome. Her bare skin was brown and leaves and moss clung to her body in spots, looking as though they grew there. Her hair was rough and willow-like but her face was incredibly beautiful and she gazed at them with large green eyes.

"A fey," Anna said in quiet awe.

The creature whispered with the sounds of wind and running water. Kivan stayed crouched down and spoke again in the odd tongue. The exchange continued and Anna felt concern that the creature seemed to be growing agitated. The others sensed the change and Finn's hand slid towards his sword. The creature saw his fingers on the grip and she shook and twittered.

"Keep your hands from your weapons," Kivan called back, not turning around. "She means us no harm but she is terrified of your iron."

Finn's hand slowly dropped. "I guess she doesn't get much armed company. Has she seen the witch?"

"She is the witch," Xan replied. "Do not strike her!" he added quickly.

"What, she is?" Finn exclaimed. "She's some kind of fairy, not a crone."

"There is no crone. Humans see what they wish—either their fantasies conjured up a witch or some hapless old woman took the blame for the _marta_."

"Well, I don't really care what she is or what anybody thought she is. She attacked us. She tried to kill Anna! She obviously does mean harm," Finn said angrily.

The fey twittered again and stepped back. Anna thought she would disappear into the trees but Kivan spoke hastily and she paused.

"She did not attack us," Kivan said. "At least, not in her mind. She thought we came to harm her and her forest. She says the men come with iron teeth to bite the trees she feels are her kin. _Martie _have a terrible fear of iron, its very touch burns them like ice. She has lived in this wood longer than men have dwelled here and she has a right to her home."

"Maybe, but if she didn't attack us then what the hells was that? What was she trying to do?" Finn demanded.

Kivan paused, looking as though he wasn't sure if he should continue.

"She is not violent...she makes the men who come into her wood like her, so they become part of her family. She changes them."

"S-so they do become t-trees?" Khalid exclaimed.

"I saw one, a willow—it had a human face," Anna said with a shudder.

"Bloody hells," Finn said. "You seem awfully casual about it, Kivan. Don't tell me you approve?"

"I do not," he replied. "I have told her that the men do not want this, but she does not understand and she will continue. She does not think she is doing harm—she says she speaks with them, and they are at peace."

Finn irritably ran a hand through his hair.

"I can't think of much more horrible. Tree or not it's a prison. It's no better than being trapped by a spell underground. We can't let her keep doing this, they'd be better off dead!"

Kivan looked grim. "All the same, I have convinced her that we are not enemies of the wood and she will allow us to pass. My people have a bond with the sylvan folk but they can be fickle as the winds. We should move on, lest she change her mind."

"No," Finn said. "I don't care what you say—Anna nearly died, and the rest of us probably weren't far behind. We can't just walk away. What if she follows us?"

"I do not believe she was trying to kill Anna, or any of us," Xan spoke up. "This creature acted of out fear, not malice. As Kivan said this is her home and we are trespassers. We should leave."

"Malicious or no she must be made to see the error of her ways," Ajantis said. "Although I would prefer to parlay for the lives of her prisoners rather than resort to bloodshed, especially as I have little idea how to defeat such a magical beast," he added to himself.

"The elves are correct, Finn," Jaheira said slowly, keeping her eyes on the fey. "This place is bound to her, and she to it. To attack her would cause disruption and risk earning us the ire of the entire forest, assuming we could defeat her at all. There is little we can do here except move on and be thankful she was merciful."

"I don't believe this," Finn cried. "She's been hurting the village folk and she nearly turned us into furniture. And you lot just want to leave her to carry on?"

Despite the attack Anna found Finn's reaction surprising and she stared at him. The fey shook and the leaves of the glade rustled with a sudden breeze. Kivan stood up.

"Calm yourself, she feels your anger."

"And she should!"

Finn made a step forward but Anna grabbed hold of his arm.

"Don't! Don't upset her," she said.

She could feel the magic vibrating in the grove and it made her nervous. They fey hissed and twittered again. Kivan looked quickly between the creature and Finn.

"We must leave here, _now_," Xan said sternly.

"I agree. Whatever sh-she did, this is n-not a fight for us," Khalid spoke.

"She's creeping me out," Imoen almost whimpered. "Let's go. I don't want to be a tree!"

"Finn, Imoen doesn't want to be here, and neither do I," Anna said quietly. "Please—let's just go."

She squeezed his hand and he grasped hers hard, still glaring at the creature. She implored him again and his dark look began to fade.

"Alright. But you tell her to end this, or there might be a helluva lot of iron teeth coming to visit some day."

Kivan glanced at Finn then spoke to the fey, but it still hissed.

_"Re n'dura lle_," Xan remarked, leaving Anna to wonder what the other elf said.

Kivan spoke again and this time the creature retreated the way it came, melding seamlessly into the wood. Anna let out a sigh of relief, not truly realising how tense she was until that moment.

"Come," Kivan said. "This way. And keep your hands from your weapons."

They needed no prompting to follow the elf out of the glade. Finn kept hold of Anna's hand but his eyes stayed focused on the wood ahead and he said nothing. As they left Anna glanced over her shoulder. Two green eyes fluttered open on a trunk and gazed levelly into hers. Anna paused, but Finn's motion pulled her on and the eyes blinked shut again.

.....

They kept moving and Anna felt the trees changing once more, the aura of magic slipping behind them like a vanishing fog. She paid no heed to what way they were heading but Kivan seemed to walk with purpose and she followed along quietly. She kept thinking of their encounter though and finally spoke.

"Shouldn't we return and tell the villagers about the fey, so they can avoid her?"

"If we do they are certain to come and hunt her with axes and fire," Xan responded. "They will stop at nothing to destroy a creature they cannot understand."

"They might not. They're used to living with the creatures of the forest. Why do you always assume the worst?" Anna asked.

"Because I have seen the worst again and again. I speak from experience, and nothing more," he said grimly.

"Don't you think they'd have a right to attack her? Those men were just trying to feed their families, they weren't rampaging and pillaging through the wilderness," Finn said.

"Yet to her it was as though someone took an axe to her children. Can you not understand her point of view?" Xan said. "She still tried to show compassion, even if it was misguided. And the fact remains that the men entered her land, she did not seek them out. If they had avoided her there would be no difficulties."

"But you don't want us to tell the villagers of her existence? How are they supposed to avoid her, without even knowing what it is they need to avoid? You're arguing in circles, Xan," Anna said.

The elf looked at her and let out a sharp breath.

"You may be right, but what is the answer here? To tell them means that they will seek her death, and to not tell them means they will encounter her anyway. There is no solution."

Anna bit her lip and was silent. After a moment Jaheira spoke levelly.

"We are too far from the village to return, regardless. We must attend to our own mission now."

No one replied. Anna sighed quietly and focused on the trail ahead.

.....

_"She does not believe you."_


	45. The Prisoner

They crossed the rolling southerly half of the Cloakwood Hills and entered into the forest proper. The hills swept around the forest like a hook, cradling the woodland between their rugged sides and the cliffs of the Sea of Swords. Occasionally the party mounted a rocky point and Anna could see the steep eastern hills rising above the trees, their sheer sides looking like a giant knife had sliced away at the granite. She thought they almost seemed designed to act as a protective wall for the ancient wood, keeping the march of time at bay.

The trees hid danger though and they were forced to walk more quietly than ever before. The strain began to wear on Anna and for the first time in her life she actually began to think that she hated trees. Even the most humble woodsman's shack would've been a comfort to her weary eyes, but there was nothing to see except gnarled trees and the sharp rocks that kept striking her toes along the way. Her only levity came from regarding Finn who smiled mysteriously at her as he carved yet more small pieces of wood during their rests, never revealing their purpose.

Kivan was alert and taciturn as usual but Anna thought he remained the most at ease of them all; the dense wood probably reminded him of his native Shilmista. His keen eyes guided them around the worst of the dangers but they still found themselves ambushed by raving ettercaps, massive spiders and other creatures Anna would sooner forget.

Travelling in silence she found that her thoughts kept returning to the fey. Her memories of the dream faded but a strange, lingering sense of fear somehow remained. What had she seen walking in the wood? It terrified her dream-mother, she was certain of that, but the more she tried to recall it the paler and more vague it became. In camp that night she lay awake in her bedroll and stared at the large moon above the treetops but the image refused to form.

....

She was still awake when Xan touched her shoulder to rouse her for their watch. The elf went into the forest and Anna found her own spot on the hill above their camp. A landslide had cleared the slope of tall trees and she gazed out at the expanse of forest before her.

The sky was covered by fine, high clouds but the yellow moon sent its light washing over the trees and reflecting over the patches of mist that prowled through the forest below. Even the moon in that place seemed eerie and ancient, Anna thought as she huddled on her rock, like it had been plucked from the ruined sky of some forgotten world and hung over her own. Under its gaze her thoughts refused to keep to the task at hand and her mind wandered until she jumped at the slight sound of a twig snapping behind her.

She relaxed as Xan muttered an apology, whether for startling her or the fact that his elvish feet made a noise in the wood she didn't know.

"Is it two hours already?" she said quietly.

"And then some. Though I'm certain that Imoen would not object if you chose to stay longer," he replied.

"No, I was just...thinking."

"Ah. We should return now."

Anna began to rise but paused.

"Xan—can I ask you something?"

"I suppose you will regardless. What is it?" he sighed.

She glanced at the tired-looking elf standing with his arms folded in his sleeves and let out a sigh of her own.

"I just wanted to talk about the sylvan woman, but it can wait."

"I'm thankful. This isn't the best time for a conversation," he said.

"I suppose not," she said. Xan nodded and turned towards camp. "But...why was she my mother? There's so much that doesn't make sense."

The elf made a weary noise but he came and sat near her.

"If you wish to explain the motivations of a fey then you would need a greater sage than I. Their very nature is transience. You said before that she asked you to name her, and you called her mother. In her own way then, she _became_ mother. And like any good parent she desired to protect her child. I see little of mystery in that."

Anna rubbed her thumb over her lip, thinking.

"But what was she protecting me from? She seemed...frightened. Truly frightened. She kept shouting, bad man, bad man."

"I heard. I assumed she meant me for trying to break the spell and take you from her."

"Perhaps. I don't know," Anna sighed. "There was something else though...something in the woods. A figure. She showed me...it was terrifying. Like every nightmare that has ever been, all rolled into one. It wasn't you, I am sure of that."

"What do you think it was?" Xan asked.

"I have no idea. It was horrible."

Anna shivered slightly. The misty night felt cool and she looked up again at the moon. She glanced at Xan. He looked deep in thought, and after a moment he sighed.

"I have no answers for you, I'm afraid. It might have been something from your subconscious mind, something from hers, or something else entirely. That is no help, I know. But I cannot tell you anything more."

"Do you think...you could look?" she said hesitantly.

He glanced at her, surprised.

"What—you wish me to enter your mind? Does it really trouble you that much?"

"I don't know," she said quickly, taken aback by her own suggestion. "But I need to know...I want to know."

Xan rubbed his brow and sighed again.

"You seem rather unsure. I would be willing to help, but not unless you are certain."

Anna drew a breath. "I am. You might be able to see more than I could."

"It is your memory," he said. "I cannot bring up anything that isn't already there."

"No, but...I was confused, under a spell. I can barely remember any of it now. Looking back on it again I may see more clearly."

"Perhaps." He let out a slight groan. "Very well. But this is not the time—I'm still exhausted and need to recover whatever I can for our latest mad charge. Think on it. If you still wish to do this then speak with me after we find these mines. If either of us is still alive, that is," he added grimly.

Anna silently agreed with his assessment and she followed the elf as he rose and wandered back to camp.

....

In the morning light Anna felt rather foolish about her suggestion, but Xan said nothing about it and neither did she. Packing her gear she prickled at how ridiculous it was to be upset over her dream—as the elf said, the fey folk were a logic to themselves and the vision likely meant nothing. Even so, whenever she thought of it that queer feeling remained. But there was nothing to be done about that except to stop thinking about it.

Faced with the prospect of scouring the entire forest for the hidden mine Kivan had reconciled to the use of the dwarven map and it was strange seeing the elf scowling at the paper while trying to match the symbols to the land. After a long afternoon's march they finally neared the area the runes marked out in red.

"If the tunnel-dwellers did scavenge for iron here it would not be far," the ranger said. "I would prefer to scout on my own now."

"Is that wise?" Ajantis remarked. "Elves are fleet of foot but this strange mine will no doubt be guarded. You may find yourself in difficulty."

Kivan began to reply but Finn spoke up.

"Don't worry—if anyone can find his way around the woods it's this fellow. Do what you need."

"Thank you, _mellonamin_," the elf replied. "I shall return with news."

He left and the others took refuge in a small rocky hollow. Anna leaned against her fully-stuffed pack and watched the branches of a tall fir brushing against the sky, imagining the needles were painting the small white clouds on the blue. For some reason she thought of her garden at home. The peas would be ripe, ready to pick from the leafy vines and be turned into her favourite summer soup with cream and mint. She pondered the strangeness of thinking of pea soup while a major battle awaited but tugged at her amulet and kept staring at the sky.

....

The sun wheeled to the west but Kivan still didn't return. The elf never took so long on his scouting missions and though no one said anything Anna could see her own fears in the others' faces. They began to grow restless and fidgeted in the hollow. Finn kept rising up and surveying the forest in a pointless search, and Jaheira sighed frequently and did the same. Anna bit her lip and wondered how much longer they would wait before setting out in an unlikely attempt at rescue.

At last Kivan's quiet bird-whistle sounded from the edge of the hollow. Anna sat up in relief but felt startled seeing his grim face.

"Good to see you, mate, we were getting a bit worried. What did you find?" Finn asked.

"The mine," Kivan replied, taking up a wineskin.

He kept drinking and they stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to wash down his thirst.

"It is set into a hillside. The rogues have felled trees to make a high stockade around the entrance and guards patrol everywhere. I had to travel through the treetops to avoid their eyes," he said.

"Then Helm smiles upon us," Ajantis said. "Would we have time to find this mine before dark, or would we be better served waiting till dawn before staging our assault?"

"Neither," Kivan said. "It is impossible."

"That is a hard saying," Jaheira said, surprised.

"It is the truth. They have built a fortress of wood to guard this place. We could fight our way past the watchers on the surface but if their numbers are any guide the warrens themselves must teem with bandits. To attack would be to upset a hornets' nest. We would be overrun."

They were all silent, trying to process Kivan's unelaborated conclusions. At last Ajantis spoke quietly.

"So be it, then. Helm has lead us here. We shall fight with his glory to whatever end he wills for us."

"Are you mad?" Xan said sharply. "You would have us charge into an impossible situation, trusting only on the fickle will of the gods for our survival?"

For the first time Anna saw anger creeping over Ajantis' serene face and he looked like he made every effort to restrain his words.

"The will of Helm is not fickle, elf. Our cause is just, and the Vigilant One will provide."

"Perhaps," Xan replied. "But I am thankful the Seldarine do not require their followers to commit suicide so readily."

"Would they also have them abandon their cause in the face of difficulty?" Ajantis continued. "One day we will all meet our end. But when I finally kneel before Helm I want it said that I met my end as one worthy of a knighthood in the Order, not as a coward that did whatever possible to prolong his existence a few moments more. Your kind knows well that the mortal life is short, but paradise stretches forever. Which shall we value more?"

Xan scowled and brushed away his comment.

"Do you imagine anyone will have anything to say about your death out here, miles from any civilisation, suffered at the hands of barbaric criminals? There will be no honour for you when they strip you down and cut off your head for sport, if you are fortunate," he said bitterly.

"Do you think I crave the mindless fame of the bards?" Ajantis declared. "My god will know I did my duty, and that is enough."

Anna stared in surprise at the men as their volume grew louder.

"Stop this!" Jaheira finally exclaimed, rising to her feet. "What has gotten into you two? We have problems enough without fighting with each other like children. Kivan, is there no way other way inside?"

"None that I could see, and I searched well," the elf replied.

"So...what are we supposed to do now?" Imoen said slowly.

Xan and Ajantis looked sour and the others looked on in silence.

"We could go and have a look," Finn said. "No offence, Kivan, but there might be something you didn't find."

"I cannot report on what I did not see," he said flatly. "But I can say that if were you to go lurking around this place you would be caught. The patrols are too many, and they do not seem the dead-eyed sort that we normally encounter."

...

Anna said nothing. An odd feeling crept slowly over her—one of unexpected relief. She hadn't imagined that they would find the mines only to abandon the chase but looking at the indecisive expressions on the others' faces she felt they might do just that.

"If Kivan s-says it is too dangerous for an assault then it l-likely is," Khalid said. "But I would still p-prefer to judge the lay of the l-land for ourselves."

"Yes," Jaheira agreed. "I will not consent to a suicide mission but we have superiors awaiting a report. We should observe this mine as closely as we can before taking our leave."

Kivan shook his head. "You know that my life means little to me now, but I would not wish to shorten yours. I say again that it is impossible, and you only risk your own death by pursuing this further."

"I thank you for your concern, but you must also trust us to know our trade. I do think however that we should not all go—a crowd of this size would not help but attract attention no matter how quietly we went. Kivan, if you would guide us then Khalid, Anna and myself will go."

Anna started to find herself named in the scouting party but nodded in silence.

"I'm going too," Finn spoke up.

"I'm certain that Anna will manage without you," the druid said. "We may need a mage, and four is more than enough."

"I know she'll manage fine, she doesn't need me for a bodyguard. That's not why I want to go. I want to see these mines for myself, otherwise I can't form much of an opinion on this one way or another. If you think five's too many then you can stay behind," he said, staring up at her.

Jaheira's mouth opened but she clapped it shut again.

"As you wish," she said coolly. "If you think it best...then I shall remain here."

She tossed her head slightly and Anna turned away from the bright look in her eyes. Finn didn't respond but began forcefully searching his pack for some unknown item. Khalid glanced at the pair and spoke quietly.

"I shall s-stay behind. You may require h-healing if you come under attack."

"Are you certain?" Jaheira asked.

"Yes, you are m-more needed than I. Take c-care, my love."

Jaheira's cold look melted as Khalid gave her a quick kiss. She raised a hand and grasped at his cheek, holding his lips to hers for a moment longer.

"If you have decided then we should be on our way," Kivan said, fingering his bow.

"Yes, we shall report back soon," Jaheira said to the forest floor.

....

The four set off. Anna practically walked on tip-toe, wary of Kivan's warnings and the continually grim look on his face. Finn followed along behind her. She turned back to him and gave him a slight smile. His mouth responded but his eyes stayed grave. Jaheira for her part said nothing to any of them.

After a time Kivan told Anna to cast invisibility on herself and the others. They kept pace behind the elf as he slipped through the undergrowth, his ragged elven cloak somehow managing to mimic the colours of the wood. Anna's heart jumped as a pair of men with crossbows appeared from nowhere but they didn't notice the group passing by. She was surprised the elf didn't take a shot but he likely didn't want to risk even the slightest of cries.

They ducked around several other patrols as the ranger led them further into the forest. Nervously Anna thought to herself that she didn't have enough magic to keep them invisible on the return journey. She tried whispering the fact to Kivan but he only gestured for silence, pointing at the wood ahead.

Through a break in the trees she saw an area of stumps surrounded a high stockade. A heavy gate stood open and Anna could see a dozen ragged men loading rocks into carts, and another half-dozen standing guard. Behind them in the hillside a yawning mouth identical to the Nashkel mines led into darkness. Armed men patrolled outside the gates and one stood mounted on a platform raised above the stockade, scanning the forest for trouble.

Watching the scene Anna saw one of the ragged men fall to his knees. A guard shouted at him but he seemed either unable or unwilling to stand. She cringed as the guard began battering him with the butt end of his crossbow. The violence seemed to amuse the other guards but the ragged men kept working.

"We should leave now, while they are distracted," Kivan said low.

"Yeah, I think I've seen enough here," Finn whispered back.

....

Carefully they retreated through the trees, and after they'd gone a distance Jaheira spoke low to Kivan.

"You did not say they used slaves."

"No. It does not change the facts. We cannot free those men, we can do nothing for them."

Jaheira looked grim but didn't respond.

Anna noted that Kivan was not leading them back the way they came; he headed north and the forest grew rockier around them, the trees littered with large boulders from an ancient landslide. He wound his way through the stones and eventually drew to a halt.

"Why are we stopping here?" Finn asked.

"To wait for darkness. Men's eyes cannot see well in the night and we will stand a better chance of escaping their missiles."

"But what about the others?" Anna said. "They'll wonder where we are. They might set out looking for us."

"Then they must wonder. I do not think they would search in the night, regardless."

"And how are we supposed to find our way back?" Finn remarked. "We can't see in the dark, either."

"I will lead you," Kivan said.

Jaheira crouched down and let out a groan.

"I would be away from this place. You were correct, Kivan—to storm the entrance would be difficult indeed."

He gave her a look but said nothing. Anna went and sat next to Finn and he slipped his arm around her.

"Guess we should've known better," he said. "But what do we do now?"

"Are you asking my opinion?" the druid said archly.

"Yes. I'm sorry about all that earlier, you can drop it now. I'm just trying to act like a leader. It's what you wanted, remember? Like you said to me, you can't have it both ways. You can't stick me up front when you like then push me back again. And if I'm going to be in charge I need to know what's going on."

Anna glanced up at him. His face looked serious and he spoke in a level voice.

"I'm thankful you've embraced your duty," Jaheira replied, still sounding chilly. She let out a noise and rubbed her brow. "We can only report what we have found to those in a position to act, namely the Flaming Fist."

"Reckon you're right." He turned his neck and looked back in the direction of the mines. "Still...I can't help thinking that somebody in that hole might know about Gorion's murder."

"Finn..." Anna said quietly.

"Didn't say I was going in. Jaheira's right—there's not a damn thing we can do about any of this."

His words had a ragged edge that ended in a sigh. Anna laid her head on his chest and sat watching as the boulders gradually grew dimmer.

....

In the fading light Kivan roused them and she followed close behind the elf as he made his way through the trees. Her stomach rumbled noisily from lack of food and she willed it to be silent without success. She worried too that the others might've left their camp but tried to reassure herself by thinking that they'd have heard any battles.

Suddenly Kivan froze. Anna had no time to wonder as she heard something leap from a boulder and come breaking through the undergrowth, heading for them with the speed of a deer. In the darkness she could tell it wasn't human-sized but it didn't seem like an animal, either. Before any of them could act it barrelled straight into Finn, grabbing his knees and knocking the tall man flat on his back with a loud grunt.

_"Out of me way, ye poxy bastard!" _a rough voice bellowed. _"I'll have ye, I will!"_

"Get it off, get it off!" Finn cried, wrestling with the apparition.

"_It?_" the voice bellowed again. "I'm a dwarf, laddie, and you'll remember it!"

Anna jumped back, confused. Kivan drew his bow but held the shot as Jaheira leaped into the fray. She grabbed the dwarf by his long hair and pulled hard. He yowled again and Finn managed to throw him off.

"Don't play fair, aye?" the dwarf raged. "Fine by me!"

Anna broke from her daze and cast a spell quickly as she could. The dwarf froze in silence, his small round fists raised threateningly.

"What in Silvanus' name is this?" the druid cried, breathless.

"Be silent," Kivan hissed from behind his bow.

"Gods,"Finn moaned, rising to his feet. "Hobgoblins don't hit that hard!"

"He seems to have no weapons," Jaheira remarked, hastily searching the prisoner.

"The other guards may have heard the struggle. We must kill him and leave here, now," Kivan said.

"Is he a guard?" Anna asked.

"He attacked us," the elf replied darkly.

"But he's not armed—"

Her spell faded and the dwarf snapped to life. His eyes glittered behind bushy brows but surprisingly he kept his hands at his sides.

"You ain't mine guards, is ye?" he demanded. "I could hear you yammering amongst yourselves just now."

"You aren't either, I take it?" Jaheira said, still wary.

"By Moradin's hammer, am I?" the dwarf spat. "I'll not be thrown in with those dogs. I only just got free of 'em."

"You were a slave?" the druid asked.

"Aye, and quick ye are to work that out. I'm thankful you aren't all bleedin' elves or I'd be staining the trees as we speak," he said, glaring at Kivan who kept his bowstring taut. "Ye can drop that anytime, laddie."

The elf said nothing and his bow stayed motionless.

"If you were a prisoner then you must know all about the mines," Finn said, rubbing his shoulders.

The dwarf scoffed. "And I would! Wasn't it my clan that dug them from the earth in the first place?"

They looked at him in surprise and the dwarf started, seemingly taken aback by his own abrupt revelation and he turned even surlier.

"Now if ye don't mind, I'll be on my way. I don't know what you lot have planned but—wait. What _do _ye have planned?"

Jaheira looked at him, puzzled by his change in tone.

"We had planned an assault but the mines are too well guarded. We were retreating when you—came upon us."

The dwarf deflated and looked cross again.

"And I'd have thought they _would_ be too well-guarded! You gonna storm the place with just the four o' ye? Not the best at planning, eh?"

"We have other companions," Jaheira said coolly.

"And you should and all. But—aye, why not?" the dwarf muttered. "If you're serious, I can get ye inside."

"How?" Finn asked.

"Same way I left—the back door. The guards don't know about it, but I can get you in sure enough. Give me a stout axe and I'll even help ye take a few heads for your trouble."

"But why would you want to go back?" Anna said.

"Didn't ye hear me speak? The place is mine by blood! I be Yeslick of Clan Orothiar, one of the last of that great house. And it burns a hole in me to see it in the hands of gutter trash like the Iron Throne."

"Throne?" Finn said slowly.

Kivan let his bowstring go slack. Finn and Jaheira glanced at each other like a light had suddenly pierced the gloom, and Anna felt herself beginning to fall.


	46. Deeper Down

"The Iron Throne, aye," Yeslick spat. "And I'll curse the day I took up work with 'em till the Father's forge goes cold."

"How could I have been so blind?" Jaheira exclaimed, running a hand over her braids. "We knew of the Throne's presence in the city but we never thought to connect them to these troubles."

"Who are the Iron Throne?" Anna asked.

"They are a merchant organisation from Sembia—and their operations are rumoured to be barely legal even in that nation of trader-kings. In the past year they have set up operations along the Sword Coast, much to the displeasure of the established merchant houses in the city."

_"_Hmm, yeah—the _Iron _Throne shows up in town and by chance all this iron trouble begins. They sound like a bunch of sneaky bastards all right. Don't know how you missed that for so long," Finn quipped.

Jaheira glared at him. "Yes, very amusing. Although I doubt the organisation took their name some forty years past in the knowledge that they would eventually create this intrigue. And if Baldur's Gate had reason to suspect them I'd have thought they would be exposed by now."

"Regardless, we now have the name to bring before the lords of the city," Kivan said. "You should journey there and tell those in power what you have learned."

"What, you wouldn't come with us?" Finn asked. "And what about these bandits here?"

"I would guide you from the forest, _mellonamin, _and from there I would find my own path again," he said. "I vowed to help you find those who have caused you pain, and we have done so. But you cannot still think to attack this place with your answers in hand. It would be foolish, it is too well guarded."

"This from a follower of Shevarash?" Finn exclaimed. "If the ones who killed Gorion are still walking around my work's not done. This dwarven fellow says he can get us inside. A name's not enough—I couldn't sit back and scratch my arse waiting to see if justice will get done. I need answers. I need to put this right."

"Justice is not the same for all," Kivan replied. "My path ends in reunion with my beloved, but you must think of that which still ties you to this world. Revenge is worth little if it only destroys that which you care for. There are lives other than your own you must consider now. You have a sister, and a lover, and to sacrifice them to kill your father's murderer will bring you no peace. I know you seek answers but you must think of their protection first."

Finn said nothing and looked hard at the ground.

"You afraid of a little fight, elf?" Yeslick grumbled. "You talk chivalry, but there's women and children slaving and dying in the mines as we speak. And I don't know about you but I wouldn't rest easy leaving 'em behind to suffer."

Kivan scowled but Anna thought he looked taken aback by the dwarf's revelation.

"There are children in the mines?" Jaheira spoke quickly.

"Aye. These bastards have rounded up just about anyone who could hobble along on two legs to work the rock. They don't care what becomes of 'em, there's always more fodder to be found."

Finn shook his head in angry confusion.

"Who the hells are these people? Bandits, slaves, taking out bounties on random folk for no reason—what's their plan? This is mad."

"I've never heard of any bounties but it wouldn't surprise me much. They don't like competition. They hatched a big plan to corner the market on iron ore, that I do know. That's what landed me in chains in the first place—told Anchev I wasn't about to have my family's old home used for blood money. Damn but I never can keep me mouth shut!" Yeslick said angrily.

"I'm not competition!" Finn exclaimed. "I've never had a thing to do with trade my whole life. They've been trying to kill me, and a lot of other folks by the sound of it. I need to know why."

"Perhaps if you would tell us what you do know?" Jaheira interrupted. "We've heard the name Anchev mentioned before, but we have been running in the dark."

"Alright, but I don't want to be yammering here till the morning comes. This here was me family's mine, like I said. But...we left it a couple hundred years back. The 'why's' not important, afore ye ask," he said gruffly. "I earned my way in the Gate working as a smith. I'm an armourer by trade—and one of the best you could find above ground or below, if I do say so myself. Last summer though fellow named Anchev knocks on me door, says he'll pay double if I come and work exclusive for him . Said he was with some outfit called the Iron Throne and their coffers were deep. Never did much like the look of him but a job's a job, so I took his offer."

"And you agreed to work for evil to line your pockets? _Naugrim_ are more fond of gold than even the humans," Kivan remarked.

"Do ye think I'd have raised me hammer to do ought but cave in his skull if I knew what he was?" Yeslick replied, his eyes snapping. "Watch yourself, fellow. It was a job, that's all. But one night I got a bit too deep into the ale and started talking about the old homestead. Bloody thick bastard! Why'd I have to do it? Dad were here he'd tan my hide, and I wouldn't blame him."

He smacked his head and continued muttering to himself, but Jaheira spoke.

"And so the Iron Throne discovered this mine?"

"_Eh?_ Yeah," the dwarf continued. "At first they were just gonna sell the ore but then their greedy minds started working. That Anchev's a sharp one, and he reckoned they could make a killing if they could put a stop to the mining in Nashkel somehow and offer up their own iron instead. Nobody but me and them knew about this place, and they reckoned they could get away with it."

"But they've practically started a war," Anna said. "Holding all the iron on the coast wouldn't do them any good if Amn marched their army up the coast and laid siege to Baldur's Gate. They'd risk their own deaths and their business would be ruined. What were they thinking?"

"It's gone mad, all right," Yeslick agreed. "It must've gotten away from them somewhere along the line. I were Anchev I'd be soiling myself right about now, but he's still playing the game."

"Are any of the Throne's lieutenants staying in the mine?" Jaheira asked.

"Couldn't say. There's usually somebody around but they don't come down into the pits too often, so I never see 'em."

"Well, I'm willing to chance it," Finn said. "We should round up the others and go pay these fellows a visit."

He clutched at his sword's grip and Anna felt something break within.

"And just what are you planning to do?" she said sharply. "The leaders of the Iron Throne surely aren't holed up in this place, they'd be in the city. We have no way of knowing how many guards there are down there. And it's not like fighting in the trees—if we were cornered we'd be trapped, there'd be no way out. We'd all be dead."

Her voice shook and she struggled to steady it. Finn looked at her in surprise.

"We've got this fellow to guide us now, and he probably knows the layout better than the guards. We're not looking to go hand-to-hand with everyone in the place. We can sneak in, see what we can find, and maybe even free some slaves. I'm not trying to get us killed here, but I think we can do it."

Anna clutched at her arms and said nothing. Finn slipped an arm around her shoulders but she looked away.

"She is right, Finn," Jaheira began. "Slaves or no I feel this may be too dangerous for too little reward. But...it is your decision."

The druid sounded unconvinced by her own conclusion. Kivan kept his thoughts to himself and stood stiffly, gripping at his bow. Finn's mouth opened but it closed again and he slid his arm away from Anna's hunched shoulders.

"I can't lie, it'd be a tough fight even if you lot know your weapons," Yeslick said slowly, tugging at his fair beard. "But there's one thing on our side, one they wouldn't be expecting."

"What's that?" Finn said, exhaling a breath.

"The plug."

For a moment the dwarf looked indecisive again, but he clapped his fist into his open palm like a hammer striking an anvil and spoke.

"There's a sluice gate in the lower levels that's holding back an underground lake. You open that gate and the whole of the mine will be underwater faster than ye can blink. You could drown them bastards like the rats they are."

"And how are we to open this gate without drowning ourselves?" Kivan asked.

"Or the slaves," Jaheira added.

"The work's all being done on the lower levels now and most of the slaves are down there," Yeslick said. "If you could get to 'em and give 'em cover they could make it out the back door easy enough. There's a remote lever for the gate on the upper level, a safety latch of sorts. I could make my way up there and trip it after you've made your escape. They'll never see it coming."

"And after we've done this you're planning to fight your way back up the mine, alone?" Finn remarked.

"Of course I ain't," the dwarf grumbled. "But this is my old home, remember? There's an air shaft what leads down the entire length of the place, just wide enough for a dwarf to get through. I can crawl straight up and be up top in no time. It'll work, I tell ye."

Finn let out a sigh and looked at Anna, but she looked away again.

"There's slaves down there, kids," he said to her.

Anna nodded but didn't reply. Even considering the slaves she wondered if he would be so willing to attack the mines if it weren't for the pursuit of Gorion's murderers. She thought of Kivan's all-consuming revenge obsession and wondered then if Finn wasn't in fact on the same road. The others looked at him and he pursed his lips, thinking.

"It's black as pitch now," Finn said almost to himself, glancing around at the dark woods. "Let's find the others and grab a couple hours sleep before we do anything."

....

After stumbling blindly through the forest holding onto Jaheira's arm Anna felt relieved to finally hear the worried voices of her other companions in the hollow. The moon rose as she forced food into her dry mouth, listening to them discussing Yeslick's plan. Ajantis alone seemed keen—after hearing of the slaves Anna wouldn't have been surprised if the knight decided to assault the place single-handedly. Finn remained determined though and argued away any dissent with a strange new conviction and authority.

For her part Anna stayed quiet. Picking at her bread she felt herself shouting inside, praying that Finn would change his mind. Why was she so frightened of these mines? They'd been through Nashkel, they defeated Tazok and his band, why should this be different? She noticed that she'd been shredding the bread and tossing it onto the ground rather than into her mouth. She let the remaining bread drop at her side and wrapped her arms around her knees.

With the debate apparently resolved Finn came and bent over her.

"Walk with me, won't you?" he said, holding out a hand.

"This isn't the best place for a stroll," Anna replied.

"I know. I just want to talk. Come on," he repeated.

Anna let out a sigh but Finn didn't move so she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. He led them out of the hollow but after they'd gone a short way Anna stopped.

"This is far enough," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he agreed.

They settled amongst the ferns and Anna waited for him to speak.

"Look," he said finally, "I know you don't want to do this. I don't either, believe me. I keep thinking about you, about Imoen...but this is what I need to do. Kivan had a point with what he said earlier, but he was only half-right. It isn't just about Gorion, it's about me. Somebody's trying to kill me and they've made it pretty plain they won't think twice about hurting the people I care about to get to me. I need to stop this or it'll never go away. I won't be able to live—do you understand? I can't hide forever."

Anna glanced at him, surprised by his earnestness.

"I do understand that," she said. "But are you sure this is the right way? We know who it is now. We can leave, go to the Flaming Fist, and they'll deal with the Iron Throne properly. Does it matter who brings them to justice as long as they face it?"

"But will they?" He looked into her eyes and she turned hers down. "What proof do we really have, the word of a batty dwarf? We haven't got so much as a shred of paper that has their name on it. Besides, even if the Fist do bring them down there's no guarantee it'll solve my problem. All we've been through, Anna, and I'm still not any closer to understanding _why_. This doesn't make any more sense than it did on the Lion's Way—actually, it makes less sense than it did before. I can't...I need to do this. I'm sorry, but I do."

He sighed and Anna bit her lip in silence.

"Do you think he's still alive, that warrior who killed Gorion? Is that what's driving you?" she asked suddenly.

Although he rarely mentioned the incident Finn's descriptions of the attack always seemed to focus on one warrior, even though they'd been ambushed by a gang of bandits. Perhaps it was that Gorion's murderer escaped that wore at him, but Anna could see a strange burning in his eyes that suggested more—a kind of bond formed through pain and violent death.

Finn started at the mention. "It's not just about finding him, though you can bet I want to. I keep telling myself maybe he's dead, but he's still alive. I know it."

"He might've been with Tazok's men. He seemed partial to large warriors."

"No. It's all pretty hazy, but that one...there was something _different_ about him, and not just his size. His armour, his sword..." Finn shut his eyes as if trying to remember, but shook his head. "His _voice. _It's strange, but I almost felt like I knew him, even though I'd never met him before. He seemed to know me. All those assassins, none of them spoke to me like he did. It almost felt...personal. But how could it be? If I'd met him before I'd know, he's not the sort you'd forget. He—I don't know. But he's still out there, whoever he was. I know he is. I can feel it."

Finn stared off into the air with that strange look he had sometimes, as though he were trying to hear something faint and far-away. Anna didn't ask why he felt so sure but instead reached up and slid her hand over his arm. For their tense camp he hadn't taken off his chain shirt and she ran her fingers over the rings, feeling how cold they were in the night. He took her hand and held it in his lap. She thought how strangely small and pale her hand looked in the moonlight, laying there in his leather gauntlet. Finn must've thought the same for he pulled off his other glove with his teeth and pressed his bare hand against hers. It was warm and slightly damp from the glove and she turned her palm to face his, tracing the calluses on his sword hand with her fingertips.

"You know, I don't think I've ever said thank you," he said quietly, staring at their hands.

"For what?"

"For fighting with me, for going through all this...you don't need to. You never needed to, but you're still here. I wonder why you are sometimes."

"I couldn't just leave," Anna said, feeling her face growing warm. "Looking after Imoen's not a one-man job."

Finn chuckled softly. "You're right there. But I'm serious though. It means a lot, knowing I've got...friends."

"Do you think of me as a friend?"

"Yeah, of course," he said. "And more, obviously. I didn't offend you, did I?"

"No," Anna replied, laughing a little. "I'm glad you do."

...

She squeezed his hand and he leaned in to her. In his kiss she pushed aside thoughts of the mines, feeling only the warmth of his breath and the soft touch of his tongue. They laid down together on the forest floor but the weight and feel of his armour pained her and she pushed against him slightly. Finn sensed her unease and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. His hands slid down around her waist, pressing her closer into him, one hand finding its way down her leg. Anna felt the cool air against her skin where he slid up her skirts and she drew away from him.

Finn murmured her name though and pulled himself over her once more. Anna fidgeted in irritation and broke away from his kiss, hoping he would take the hint but he kept nuzzling at her neck, his hand sliding higher. She quickly grabbed it and pulled herself away from his embrace.

"What?" he breathed.

"Not this again," she hissed in a whisper, tugging her skirts back down.

"Well, gods help me if I want to touch you," he whispered back.

"Please don't start this now," Anna replied.

She sat up and pulled her robe collar back into place. Finn propped himself onto an elbow and looked at her. She said nothing to him and he ran a hand through his hair with an irritated sigh.

"I give up," he muttered.

"What?" she said sharply.

"Exactly. What did I do wrong? Sorry if I missed the 'no trespassing' sign but it's a bit dark out here."

Anna glared at him. "Do you not think this really isn't the time or place for this...activity?"

"Activity?" he repeated.

"Oh, don't," she said, feeling stung by the hard undertone in his voice.

"Don't? I never seem to have much of a choice, do I? You don't present any other options," Finn said grimly.

Anna wanted to go back to the others but she sat still, frozen. Finn let out a long breath and sat up. He pulled himself behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Maybe you're right, this isn't the best time to get romantic," he said. "But...I just want to be with you. Especially now. And I don't understand why you always seem to be so afraid of that."

"I'm not _afraid,"_ Anna said quickly.

"You act like it," he said quietly.

Anna said nothing, feeling Finn lightly massaging her shoulders. She didn't respond and his hands slid away.

"Right. Well, I'm sorry I dragged you over here," he said, his voice dry.

"And I'm sorry to interrupt your well-crafted plans for the evening," Anna bit back.

Finn rose to his feet but paused.

"Is that all you think I wanted? Hells, why stop there? There is no Gorion, there isn't any bounty on my head and this whole iron crisis has just been a master plan to get between your legs!"

His voiced raised to a near-shout and Anna stared at him in shock.

_"Be silent!"_

Anna started from the command hissed plainly from the camp. She felt her face flame wondering how much of their conversation the others heard, though she had little doubt whether the last statement reached their ears. Finn stormed away and Anna clutched at her knees, struggling against hot tears.

....

She curled up on the forest floor, unable to face Finn or the others. Her stomach felt sick and she knew sleep would be impossible, so she lay where she was and the tears eventually dried on her tight face. She wanted to run fast and far as she was able, the gods helping any ettercap or gibberling that would get in her way. But she only lay still, watching the moonlight slowly shift over the ferns until a dark figure pushed quietly through the undergrowth.

"Are you well?" Jaheira said.

"Yes," Anna croaked, forcing herself to sit up.

The druid came and crouched near her.

"You must be for what we are about to face. I do not know exactly what transpired between you two, but you cannot carry it with you into the mines. You will need to focus, and if you cannot it would be best for us all if you remained out here."

"I'll do what I have to."

Anna tried to speak firmly, startled by Jaheira's serious words. The druid sighed a little.

"Very well. I am sorry," she said, her voice softening slightly. "But it is time to go."

She put a hand on Anna's arm and the mage managed a small smile for the darkness. She rose up, brushed the stray bits of earth and twig from her robe and drawing a deep breath she followed Jaheira back to the others.

Finn looked away when he saw her but no one mentioned the incident as they busied themselves taking what they would need from their heavy packs that would only be a burden in the mines. Anna thought Imoen looked at her strangely, but the girl was also oddly silent. Anna took out her spellbook, some components and a few scraps of food and wrestled with the difficult but familiar task of sorting them into a myriad of pouches.

....

After hiding their packs as best they were able they followed one by one after Yeslick, heading for the secret back entrance of the mines. Fortunately the moonlight pierced the leaves and Anna was able to find her way without a guide though she still stepped carefully, not wanting to alert the guards who were no doubt somewhere in the woods. Glancing at Finn walking ahead of her she began to wonder what had triggered their fight. Was it just nerves? Looking back it seemed childish and absurd. She wanted to walk next to him and take his hand in hers, but his parting words came back to her and she bristled again in humiliation.

Yeslick guided them around a maze of boulders, drawing nearer and nearer to the base of the cliff-like hills. Looking beyond their peaks Anna fancied the sky was growing lighter. She became aware of birdsong in the trees, and the thought of dawn made her utter exhaustion hit her with enough force that she rocked on her feet. She remembered Jaheira's warning though and tried to focus on the task at hand.

The dwarf crept along the ridge, his hands feeling the wall in places. He muttered to himself and kept walking, the others following doggedly along behind him.

"Is it much farther? The sun will be over the hills soon," Kivan finally remarked.

"Keep yer trousers on, boyo. I'll find it a lot quicker if ye don't keep distracting me!"

He seemed to find a patch of rock wall that interested him and he paused, examining it keenly. The others stood around in silence, their patience growing thin though there was little to be done.

With a sigh Xan went and stood some way from the others. Anna saw the elf holding his blade up before him, petitioning under his breath the fading moon beyond the trees. He touched his forehead and bowed towards the light. Turning back he noticed Anna's look and scowled slightly.

"There is little point, I know," he said. "I would not expect the gods to change the path of fate for me. But all the same..."

He broke off and Anna's mouth tried to manage a little smile. She glanced up at the leaves, wishing she could think of words of her own. The air was growing brighter but the dim light still robbed them of their rightful green and they looked grey as mist to her eyes.

...

_"Found it!"_

She turned quickly to the dwarf who traced an outline along an apparently featureless space of rock.

"And you didn't think I could, did ye, Master Elf?" He exclaimed to himself and began tapping the rock in different places, calling out in Dwarvish with each strike. Anna heard the scrape of stone and a black chasm suddenly swung open out of the hill.

"The back door. Nobody ever thinks to find the back door. Except for my kin, o' course!" Yeslick said, proudly admiring the narrow gap.

"And where w-will this lead?" Khalid asked hesitantly, examining the blackness.

"Down to the heart of the pits. You lot follow me now and stay close. There's some folk we need to talk to. Don't dawdle now, that door'll slam shut in a minute and ye won't be able to get it open for hours!"

Without another word he set off into the crack. Jaheira looked at Khalid and they followed him through. Ajantis twisted his wide frame in after them, his shield striking the side of the door with a clank. Xan stared hard at the gap but gripped his blade and strode in. Kivan glanced once more at the forest behind and followed suit, muttering something incomprehensible to Shevarash as he went. Imoen hesitated at the door but darted inside, almost looking afraid that it would slam shut and catch her.

Finn looked back at Anna, his face quiet and unreadable. She took his offered hand and they stepped inside, not a moment too soon. Anna heard the horrible sound of rock scraping and the pale daylight faded away, leaving her in utter darkness.


	47. Hush

The blackness confused Anna's eyes and made ghostly images appear then drift away into the corner of her vision. She felt Finn move next to her and she reached out with her other hand, letting out a soft cry as her knuckles scraped against the hard rock of the narrow passage. She could hear the others up ahead. They were walking away. Anna stepped cautiously after them and braced herself as the tunnel sloped steeply downward.

The darkness pressed further into her with every step but there was nothing to do except to keep moving. She let one hand trail along the rock face but her other instinctively reached for Finn . The feel of his glove reminded her for one moment of their fight but it fled as he gave her a squeeze. Hand in hand they felt their way in silence.

After a long time the faint sounds of the party began to sound bunched up and Anna found herself bumping against Imoen, only knowing the girl by the startled noise she made in her throat. She was surprised to see a strange light reflecting off her friends' forms; it was bluish and faint but her now-sensitive eyes focused on it like a beacon. It wasn't natural but before she could wonder further she heard a muttering near the source and realised the gem in Xan's blade was shining in the darkness.

"Right now, quiet you lot," Yeslick's low voice said. "When I slide open this door there's no telling who might be on the other side."

"Shouldn't we make ourselves invisible first?" Imoen whispered.

"Why bother? You couldn't sneak past a blind and deaf dog in these tunnels, they ain't wide enough. Save your breath," the dwarf replied.

"He is likely correct," Xan admitted.

"Course I am, laddie. Long before these bastards put me in chains to work the rock like a common digger—"

"Your plan, if you please?" Jaheira interrupted.

"The plan? If there's something out there with a sword, kill it!" Yeslick growled. "Ye don't need me to tell you that, I hope. Now let's move out before my beard goes even greyer."

Anna almost fancied she could hear her companions' replies but she brushed it aside as stone scraped against stone and a growing slab of light stabbed her eyes. She clutched her quarterstaff and cringed hearing the noise echo around the passageway, imagining every guard in the place must've heard their entrance. But she forced herself to believe that the noise wasn't really as loud as it seemed to her nervous ears.

....

The group tumbled out into a perfectly rectangular passage of surprising height, kept light by torches. They looked swiftly around but the hall was empty and silent. The stone walls were smooth as polished wood except for long panels of runes that continued down both sides of the hall. They only came up to Anna's waist and she thought them a strange height before reminding herself they would be eye-level to a dwarf.

"We're in at a good time—most of the guards will be filling their faces in the kitchens about now," Yeslick said. "Follow me, quiet as ye can."

The dwarf hurried away down the passage. Jaheira let out a little sigh and shook her head at Khalid but led the way after him. Anna knew what the druid didn't say; one guard in that place would be enough to call the alarm and bring the entire mine down upon their heads. One guard.

Yeslick seemed to know his footing though and he kept them ducking through a series of turns and side-passages. Footsteps echoed somewhere but whoever made them thankfully went in another direction. Anna quickly became disoriented and realised she had no idea how to get back to the door, but considering she didn't know how to open it anyway the point was moot.

Despite the rock walls and torchlight though she found it hard to believe they were in a mine. She still felt the earth surrounding them but the sensation wasn't as bad as she'd feared. None of the rough, winding and dusty Nashkel tunnels that occasionally darkened her dreams were there, replaced instead by surprisingly airy passages and perfect lines. While dwarves worked the rock with as much intent as men they also strove to create a home under stone and the difference showed. Yeslick turned in to another passage and she noted the remarkable if utilitarian grace of its supporting arches carved out of the living rock.

....

Her appreciation came to an abrupt end. Right at their side a man with a face half-covered in shaving soap and dressed only in a tunic drew open a door. Whoever he expected to see the name died on his lips as he regarded the group with mild surprise.

"Who're you? I've not seen you in the quarters before," he said, blotting his face with a towel.

The party halted like guilty schoolchildren but none had a reply.

"And we have not seen you before, either," Jaheira managed with a casual scoff. "We trade in flesh if you must know. We brought in some fresh workers just this morn."

Even for a ruse the druid's hatred of slavery crept through and Anna saw her twitch at the words. The man's eyes narrowed but he kept wiping his face with the towel.

"That so? I didn't think we were going to get any more help for at least a month—the Fist have stepped up their night patrols too much to risk it. Who're you with?"

"We're independent runners," Jaheira said, trying her luck with a flirty little smile that seemed entirely out of place on her serious mouth. "Why pay coin to some slave pimp when we can keep it all for ourselves? We worked for Jaresh Fanteer in the south before his ring was broken up by damned Harpers."

Whether from the mention of the name or just the man's roving eye, at Jaheira's last word his gaze wandered over her chest, focusing for half a second on the tiny pin that glistened on her jerkin. The towel slowed and dropped to his side.

"Well, I'm glad you made it through then. Don't mind me, but I need to finish shaving. Good morning to you."

Without making eye contact the man made a step backwards into the room. Anna was sure he knew they weren't slavers but before she could think Kivan placed a hand on his shoulder. The man paused, puzzled somewhat by the light touch of the neutral-faced elf. Kivan's next movement was swift and Anna shrank back in horror at the dull snap of the man's twisted neck.

_"Bloody hells,"_ Finn exclaimed under his breath. "You working out some tension or what?"

"He will not trouble us now," Kivan replied.

The ranger let the man slide to the floor and grabbing his collar dragged him into the small chamber.

"Reckon not," Finn muttered back.

"That's just..._ugh,"_ Imoen said quietly, clutching at her shoulders. "Could you pull his tunic down, at least?"

Finn didn't reply but helped the elf push the heavy man under the bed.

"Xan might have dealt with him," Anna found herself saying, watching the surprised face and dripping mouth disappear behind the coverlet.

"I cannot 'deal' with every guard we will meet," Xan replied. "I realise you are not especially fond of me, but I nearly died of mind-bleed the last time I attempted it and I would prefer not to repeat the performance today, if it is all the same to you."

Anna glanced at him, surprised by the outburst. He seemed paler than usual and ran an irritated hand over his brow into hair that looked damp from sweat despite the cool of the mines. She shook her head and didn't answer.

"We are here to kill. Do not fool yourself into believing otherwise," Kivan said, rising from his task. "He would not spare you or any of us. Mercy is not for those who do not deal in it—remember that if you wish to live."

Anna turned away from his hard gaze, running her eyes over the now-ownerless porcelain bowl on the washstand. The bubbles glistened slightly on the soapy water and one popped, perhaps aware it would never be needed.

"Good to hear some sense for a change," Yeslick replied. "Now if we're done crying here can we be on?"

....

Anna bit her lip and they went on their way, shutting the door on the gruesome token. She thought of the strange twists that fate delivered—what made that man open the door? Idle curiosity and an everyday act led to an unexpected and undignified death, half-dressed and half-shaven. Kivan was probably right and it was little more than the man deserved, but the macabre absurdity disturbed her. She started from her thoughts at a light touch on her elbow.

"My lady," Ajantis said quietly. "Forgive me, but you seem troubled by that incident. You have seen men die before, have you not?"

"Yes. A good many," she said with a little choke, taken aback by his keen comment.

"And yet it still troubles you. I am sorry that you must be in this place—such foul business should not be the province of ladies. I do not know what Helm has planned for us or if we shall even outlive the day, but know that my shield is here to protect you, whatever may come."

Anna smiled rather grimly at the floor. His expression of chivalry would have made her heart flutter in the corner of some long-forgotten dance, but there with the rock pressing down and enemies behind every door it seemed almost pathetic. She glanced up to give a polite reply but paused seeing the serious, kind eyes that regarded her from behind his helmet. Her smile turned warmer and his answered.

"Hey, what about me? I'm a lady too," Imoen said at his other side.

The pair turned to her. She still clutched her shoulders but her face now looked sulky.

"Indeed? Forgive me, my lady, I meant no disrespect. I was not aware—" Ajantis said quickly, then stopped when he took in her meaning. _"Ah_. Of course my shield is here to defend you, my good young woman. It is here for all."

The knight stumbled over his words and Imoen responded with a little huff.

"Besides, Anna already has a noble defender, in case you didn't notice. She doesn't need two."

"Imoen!" the mage replied, surprised by her catty comment.

"Well, don't you?"

The girl gave her a sharp, almost challenging look. Anna's mouth opened but she swallowed a reply. Ajantis coughed and Anna could practically feel his face growing redder.

_"Yes._ My lady, I assure you that I did not presume—"

"Enough of this," Khalid interrupted, stepping up quickly from the rear. "We must k-keep quiet."

"Yes," Ajantis repeated, training his gaze on the passage ahead.

Finn looked back at them with a little frown but said nothing. Anna was sure he'd heard them talking but didn't want to imagine what he thought of it. Imoen was quiet and Anna fought against the urge to scream. Was everyone going mad in that place?

....

After leading them down another empty corridor Yeslick halted.

"Right, here's where you start to pay the bills. This way leads down to the work pits, and there'll be sentries. We might sneak past but they won't have opened the door yet—we'll need to take 'em out and get their keys."

"How many guards?" Jaheira asked.

"Only a pair on the door, and half a handful in the pits. They don't bother much with a guard till they start hauling ore out."

"Sounds alright," Finn said thoughtfully. "We can clear them out pretty easy and get the slaves back up to the door before anybody knows different. This water gate's down there, you said?"

The dwarf's beard scowled. "Nay. The Throne've dug those holes, not my kin. The gate's above us. We'll make our way up there after we've seen to these folk."

"What? Up where all the guards are?" Finn said. "But you said—"

"I said the gate were on the lower levels, and I spoke true. Once the slaves're out we can get up there and trip it."

"We?" Xan repeated. "I take it you are no longer planning to scale this supposed air shaft to pull the switch? I should have known."

"You calling me a liar, boy?" Yeslick growled. "I'll do what I said. But we need to get to the gate first."

"Why?" Jaheira asked.

The dwarf's antagonism faded and he looked almost sheepish.

"Well, right. Thing is, the gate's got _two _levers. One on the gate itself and one up top. And the one up top won't work unless somebody turns the key in the gate."

"And where exactly is this key?" the druid replied, her voice growing harder.

"That depends," Yeslick continued. "Whatever head bastard the Throne's set up here keeps it, for safety like. We need to get it off him."

"Meaning we must fight the entire mine. I _knew_ this would happen," Xan muttered, running his hands again through his hair. "It is my fate to die underground, I knew this..."

"Steady yourself, Xan," Jaheira said, eyeing the elf. "We have not expired yet."

"We shall not have long to wait. _Corellon, mankoi sinome? Mankoi ner haba?" _he groaned.

_"Seere, mellonamin," _Kivan replied quietly. _"Rina tel'anar."_

The elf's attempt to comfort his kin just made Xan's eyes grow wider at the mention, but the enchanter clenched his jaw and said nothing else.

"Why do we need to open the gate at all?" Anna asked. "We can get the slaves out and take to the hills, we don't need to do this."

"Like hells we don't!" Yeslick said loudly, then shut his mouth in surprise at his own outburst. "No, no we need to do it," he continued more quietly. "They—the guards will track the slaves. They're too weak to walk, half of them. It'd be a slaughter."

"The dwarf is correct," Ajantis concluded. "If the guards exist in the numbers good Kivan suspects we will face battle regardless. It is better to strike now while we have an advantage."

"No suspicion about it, me friend," Yeslick replied. "They've got us outnumbered by more than I care to think."

_"Why_ are we sitting around arguing?" Imoen suddenly spoke. "We've got magic, don't we? And somebody with quick little fingers. We can get the key without fighting a soul."

She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers, trying to put on a smile. Finn frowned.

"No. Not a chance, Im."

"But—"

_"No."_

"She is right," Khalid said.

"What? I'm not sending her up there—" Finn began.

"Not alone," Khalid replied. "B-But stealth is our only a-ally."

"I don't have invisibility memorised," Anna said quietly.

"What?" Jaheira said, looking at her.

"I spend it all yesterday," she explained in a small voice. "And I haven't had time since then to memorise my spells."

"No, but you had time to play _meladulinea _in the woods," Xan snapped. "The mooning youths of Evereska show more sense than you."

"Don't talk to her like that," Finn broke in.

"Why, do you save that right for yourself?" the elf scoffed. "I apologise then—your antics have in no way endangered all our lives."

"Who the hells are you to say that? You don't—"

Finn made a step forward but Anna grabbed his arm.

_"_Stop it,"she hissed. "Not now! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

_"Guys—" _Imoen said, looking down the passage behind them.

"Will you all be silent?" Jaheira exclaimed in a whisper, trying to peer around a corner ahead of the group.

_"Guys! Look out!"_

_...._

The passage exploded into noise and Anna dropped Finn's arm, feeling something sharp strike her shoulder. A familiar pain stabbed at her and she threw herself against the wall, trying to avoid the other streaks that penetrated the air. She heard shouts and a clattering noise and the deep _thwang_ of Kivan's bowstring sounding. Gritting her teeth against the pain she turned from the wall to see two guards lying dead in a pool of blood.

_"Damn it!" _Jaheira swore, pulling a sharp metal bolt from her shield. "They must have heard, they are coming—"

"Anna! Are you all right?"

Finn spoke frightened into her ear and Anna nodded though her stomach felt sick. The missile didn't seem poisoned but just knowing it was there made her head feel light. She looked up to see Ajantis cradling Imoen and feared the worst but the knight released the girl and she rose uninjured to her feet.

Anna heard sharp footsteps echoing towards them in the corridor and looked around in panic. She needed to cast a spell, any spell, but her arm felt numb and she could barely work her fingers.

Xan lay slumped on the opposite side of the hall. He turned his head in the direction of the noise and with a groan pulled himself to his feet, leaning hard on the rock for support. Raising his blood-stained hands he rasped words into the air, making it ripple like water around the party. His feet gave way under him and he slid back down the wall.

Anna sat stock still and clutched at her arm as another pair of guards hurried around the corner. They paused seeing their fallen comrades and rushed to the corpses, completely ignoring the intruders huddled up against the walls.

"Feck's sake, what happened here?" one exclaimed.

"What the hells you think happened?" the other replied. "Somebody's down here! Get to the bell, sound the alarm—"

"Don't think so, mate."

Finn crept up behind one of the men and drew his dagger, making the other guard swear in horror as the blade ripped open his partner's throat. He fell back and reached desperately for his sword but Kivan's string sounded again and he joined his fellow guard on the floor.

....

For a moment there was silence, punctured only by the heavy breathing of injury and fear. Jaheira pulled herself from the wall and spoke in a hard voice.

"Move. Now."

"I think Xan's hurt though," Imoen squeaked.

_"Amaderea," _the elf groaned under his breath, but he seemed to have no strength for further comment.

"Let me see him," Ajantis said.

Slowly but firmly he pulled Xan's hands away from his abdomen, examining the elf with a quiet experience borne of many battles.

"Jaheira," he called calmly, "This may be beyond my skill."

The druid made a ragged sigh and went to the elf's side. Anna moaned in pain and awaited her turn but Finn came and kneeled next to her.

"Here," he said low, reaching for the bolt with bloody hands. Anna pulled away from him.

"No, Jaheira will..."

"She's busy, and you're bleeding. Come here."

He took the bolt and pulled firmly, but Anna felt its serrated tip catch against bone and she cried out.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. He caressed her shoulder, unintentionally smearing the guard's blood onto her already stained robe. Anna cringed.

"Leave it," she repeated, her voice dry. "They'll know..."

"I don't care."

He tried again and another moan of agony escaped her lips. She tried to brush Finn off but her arm hurt worse than before. Kivan noticed their struggles and swiftly knelt before them.

"Do you not know better?" he said to Finn. "You have not a healer's skill, you could injure her more."

Finn looked flustered but leaned back and left Anna to the elf, sparing the need to once again explain away his strange abilities.

....

After tending Xan Jaheira called forth further blessings for Anna. Her arm still felt tingly and weak but she knew the druid's healing spells would be even more precious before long, so she said nothing. Watching the enchanter struggle to his feet with a nauseous look on his face made her own injury seem lighter, as well.

"These were the guards on the door," Kivan reported after a quick reconnaissance. He searched the bodies and turned up a ring of brass keys.

"I don't suppose they left the one we need on there by accident, did they?" Imoen remarked, trying limply to make a joke.

"No such luck, pet," Yeslick replied, taking the keys from the elf. "But the keys to the slaves' pens are on here."

"We need to move swiftly now, and no more foolish exchanges," Jaheira said, eyeing the group. "Securing the slaves is our priority. We must get them to the exit, all other considerations must wait."

Finn scowled thoughtfully but didn't comment as the group hurried after her. Since they entered the mines he said nothing about finding more about his bounty, but Anna knew well enough he hadn't forgotten. Gorion's death drove him into that place and they followed him as they always seemed to do, but faced with the logistics of freeing a group of innocent prisoners he must have felt forced to push it aside. Anna knew the strength of his determination though and she wondered if he would really be able to let it go. She prayed that he would, but there was little else she could do.

....

They came upon a set of heavy reinforced doors that even to Anna's eyes clearly weren't part of the original decor—they looked clumsy and rude set into the otherwise smooth face of stone. Stains of red rock dust filled the large passage before it and went trudging up along the floor of a steep corridor. Yeslick ran forward and began undoing the unusual brass padlocks that secured the door.

"I made these, can ye believe it?" the dwarf muttered. "They'll stay strong even after every last bit of iron in this world has rusted away, I said. If I'd known what they'd be used for I'd have forged 'em of solid iron and painted 'em yellow with me own piss."

He laughed a little to himself while swinging the last lock off the door. He paused though, jumping slightly as a series of knocks sounded from within. With a heavy fist he banged out an answering code.

"Ready to give a little surprise party?" he whispered, then jumped away letting the armed warriors deal with the shocked guards on the other side.

....

"Look sharp now, we don't have much time," Yeslick whispered, grabbing up a lantern that fell from a guard's hand. Raising it as high as he was able he set off down a low, narrow tunnel.

Reluctantly Anna followed him, leaving the airy dwarven passage behind. The atmosphere was hot and stale, with a strange odour that grew keener as they walked along. With a groan Anna recognised it and held her kerchief to her face in a vain attempt to protect her nostrils.

The tunnel sloped down and after a quick pause to listen for footsteps Yeslick darted up a side-tunnel that made the first seem of infinite size. The group walked hunched over to varying degrees depending on their height and Anna wondered how much tighter the passage could get before they were forced onto their hands and knees. The smell grew stronger and Yeslick let out a low whistle.

"Who's that there?" Anna heard a voice rasp. "Yes? That you, lad?"

She heard a clanging and saw Yeslick undoing a metal grate that guarded a small hole in the rock wall. A pair of dirty hands reached out and grasped the dwarf warmly.

"Yes! It is you!" the voice exclaimed. "Look here, I said he'd come back for us!"

Anna heard voices echoing around the narrow passage and she realised other grates were fixed into the walls. Dirty hands and odd, ghostly faces pressed up against the bars and spoke excitedly.

"It's me all right," Yeslick replied, grasping at the man. "And I've brought friends! We're gonna get you all out of here."

...

He popped open the lock and the grate swung open with a creak. Other voices implored him for freedom and he went about like a saviour, opening the locks. As soon as their gates opened the slaves burst out into the narrow tunnel like blood from a wound, crawling over one another to escape the dark mouths that had swallowed them. Anna stood back and stared. More filthy, hunted-looking people she had never seen—neither the drunken tramps she saw sleeping in rubbish tips in the docks of Baldur's Gate nor the ragged farmers of Peldvale even came close. One seemed to fix on her and stared at Anna like she was some goddess descended; only by the shy, yellow smile did the mage realise he was little more than a child.

"Let's be out of here!" one man spoke excitedly.

"What about Rill?" another answered. "We can't leave 'im behind."

"To the abyss with him," the first man spat. "Man ain't smart enough to save himself he don't matter in my eyes."

"You can't talk that way 'bout a priest!" a slave exclaimed. "The gods'll curse you for sure."

"They already have," he answered brutally. "Stay here if you want. I'm leaving."

He started off up the passage but Jaheira halted him.

"Hold, good man. None leave until we can clear the way. You have injured here?"

"We're _all _injured here, lady," the man replied. "Some worse than others. I'm lucky I've got a strong back and can work, the guards don't beat me much."

"You said there was a priest?" Ajantis asked. "Does he not provide aid?"

"Aye, bloody priest of Ilmater. He did healing till they took him away. He's a mad old coot, always yammering on about taking our suffering with strength. Some say he got himself kidnapped on purpose so he could preach to slaves—nothing would surprise me with them lot."

"The Ilmatari are worthy of respect—that man is correct, you should not speak of one of their faithful in such a manner," the knight replied.

"You don't talk that way about Rill no more!" one of the slaves said, grabbing at the man's tunic. "He's done everything to help us. You saw how he took that beating for poor Mikan."

The man pushed the slave away and the weak man fell hard against stone.

"Yeah he did, but what good did it do? He died just the same," he said bitterly.

"Stop it, all of ye!" Yeslick cried. "Save your fighting for the guards. They'll be coming before ye know it. We need to get up to the door. Anybody here can't walk we'll have to carry 'em. You're right though, we ain't leaving old Rill behind. Some of us'll go and get him."

"He is being held prisoner?" Jaheira asked.

"Aye. He pissed off the guards enough that they'd decided to give him a bit of alone time deeper down in the pits. Surprised they didn't do him in but even these lot ain't eager to kill a priest, afraid of bolts from above."

The druid groaned. "Would it take us long to reach him?"

"Not too long, but time ain't on our side here. It might be best if I started leading this lot back up to the door. You could find him easy enough, I'll point the way. There's guards down there but you can mop them up pretty quick-like."

"You can't go alone though," Finn said. "If you came across any opposition these folks would be dead on their feet."

Jaheira bit her lip, looking around at the slaves. Though the tunnel was full of them the voices from the holes said that many more were hiding in the darkness. She glanced at Khalid, who nodded.

"Bring out the w-worst injured," he said. "Those that will t-take the longest to walk. We shall try to p-provide cover f-for you until the others can c-catch up."

"The hells with that," the angry slave said. "I ain't sitting here while them lot limps their way home!"

"Then go on your own then, if you're that bloody stupid," Finn said. He gave the man a dark look and he was silent.

"Khalid, you should take Finn, Kivan and Ajantis with you. Guide the slaves to the door and return as quickly as you can. We others shall find this missing priest. In the meantime, you good people should return to your tunnels—if guards come to investigate you will be safest that way," Jaheira decided.

"No! I'm not going back in there," a slave cried. "I'm not sitting in my own shite anymore, I need air! It's everywhere, it's—I need to get out, I need to see the sun. It's always dark down here, they never give us a light—"

"Patience, my man," Jaheira said, trying to calm the shaking prisoner. "I promise you, we will not leave until every last one of you is safe. By our own blood I swear it."

The slave didn't look convinced but said nothing in the face of the druid's firm gaze. He turned and faced his hole like a man facing his executioner.

....

There was a blur of chaos as the group tried to organise the slaves. Like the man none wanted to be the ones left behind and Yeslick took every ounce of persuasion he had to convince them to cooperate. Jaheira pulled at Anna's arm.

"Come, we should see to our mission quickly as we can."

Anna nodded but let her slip by with Xan and Imoen. A strange venturing party, she thought, but then their warriors would be more needed elsewhere. Suddenly she realised she hadn't said goodbye to Finn. He was caught on the other side of the mob of slaves, but she forced her way through.

He didn't see her at first and she noted an almost boyish look on his face, not the impish one he often wore, but one of fear. Seeing him look that way made her own fears grow and he started as she touched his arm. Anna tried to think of something to say, but he leaned in and kissed her deep, his lips pressed hard and awkward against her mouth. She caressed his face and they pulled apart. Finn looked at her for one moment, then Anna slid backwards through the crowd to where the others waited impatiently.

"If you are ready?" Jaheira said, giving the mage a look.

"Yes," Anna replied, rubbing her mouth.

....

Xan and Imoen were silent and they set off after the druid, following her light further down into the darkness. The tunnel seemed to level out although it grew no wider. Either the rock was pocketed with caves or the slave miners worked in a strange fashion, for narrow cracks and holes broke into the sides of the tunnel at odd intervals. They all stepped quietly, listening for the sounds of the guards that they knew patrolled somewhere in those shafts. Anna wished grimly that the Iron Throne would keep their mines better lit; the lantern-light would be a dead giveaway to their presence no matter how quiet they were. Surprisingly Jaheira paused.

"I think here if you please, Xan."

The elf muttered a weary reply and Anna watched, puzzled, as he began casting. An ethereal orb materialised before him, its mirrored surface reflecting the rock making it barely visible. He gestured and the orb floated off into the tunnel ahead. They waited in silence as Xan stared into space, guiding the orb as it patrolled the passages.

"Two guards, no, three," he spoke quietly. "Playing cards. Typical—wait, he is there. An old man, chained to a wall. I cannot tell if he is alive or dead. I see—yes. Right, then the third passage left."

"Thank you," Jaheira said. "We can manage that well—"

Xan interrupted her.

"No—guards coming this way. Where were they? I did not see—"

_"Hide!" _Imoen hissed.

Up ahead Anna saw a light and heard men's voices talking loudly, berating each other in a jovial way. Jaheira blinked out the light. Anna felt quickly in the blackness for a wide crack she'd seen at their feet, praying it was deep enough for her to hide. She slipped inside, pushing herself further back as Xan also took refuge within.

_"Chauntea—"_

"Be quiet," Xan began, but stopped. "What—"

_"I can't hold on," _Anna croaked.

As she moved further into the crack the rock suddenly slipped away from under her, leaving her body dangling down the side of a steep slope. She clung desperately to the rough rock, trying to find a hand-hold, but her injured arm was little use and she couldn't grip. She tried pushing herself back up but the stone crumbled away under her boots making her slide even more. She heard the elf curse and he grabbed at her arm, but it was too late. Her cramped fingers slipped away and she stifled a scream as she fell into darkness.

....

_"Corellon, why here? Why another mine?"  
"Peace, my friend. Remember the sun."_


	48. From Safety to Where

Anna slid faster and faster despite her fruitless attempts to slow her fall. Her body loosened chips of rock and they smacked at her like tiny missiles, thwarting her grip and cutting into her already injured hands. She gasped in terror feeling the rock finally leave her, sending her into a freefall. She couldn't scream. She mustn't cry out. The guards would hear. One soft wail escaped her lips as she waited to smash against the rocks below, cold with fear and praying her end wouldn't hurt.

Something hard struck her, stunning her entire body down to its core. She lay still in the darkness, too dazed to work out what had happened. With a moan she reached out, feeling some sort of silt under her fingers. Anna absently let it run through her hands before it truly dawned on her that she was alive. Bits of rock pattered down and she cried out in fear as something suddenly hit her then clattered to the rock by her side. She almost laughed though realising her quarterstaff must have followed her selflessly on her mad drop.

The shower of rock increased and Anna heard a scuffling noise drawing nearer. Instinctively she rolled her bruised body away, and not a moment too soon as something large and heavy hit the dirt with a grunt.

_"Aiya, Corellon,"_ a voice groaned.

"Xan?" Anna choked.

"If I am not dead, then yes," the elf muttered.

He shifted and his blade's pommel gem glowed out in the darkness, throwing a little light that Anna could see.

"You are alive as well," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Or more likely we are both dead."

"I don't think we're dead," Anna answered in seriousness. "How far did we fall?"

"Into the abyss," he groaned again. "I do not know, it seemed a lifetime. Merciful Seldarine, where are we?"

....

Anna couldn't see much in the dim light but they appeared to be in a small, low cave with a curving floor, shaped almost like a pouch. Up above was the crack they fell down but she started noticing another hole in the floor, yawning into darkness. She hitched herself away from it, frightful of another fall.

Xan sat up with a sharp groan and clutched at his stomach. Anna dragged herself to her feet with a similar noise; when she moved a bright pain shot around her ribcage, leaving her to hope she was only bruised. Thankfully she'd at least managed to land on her uninjured arm. Previously uninjured anyway, she thought while rubbing her newly aching shoulder. Her breath was laboured but she marked it as the shock of the fall combined with the close, stale air of the cave. She examined the crack in the ceiling, taking care to shield her eyes from the pebbles that still fell.

"This...this is all, is it not?" Xan said quietly, and Anna turned to him. "Dead rock, no light of the sun, no kin...dead air. How did I escape, only to end up back here?"

The elf sat hunched and the light rocked slightly as he swayed forwards and back.

"We'll be all right, don't worry," Anna said. "When the guards have past they'll...there must be a rope, or something. We'll get out. They know where we fell."

Despite her words she realised herself that she had no idea how the others might attempt a rescue, even without the threat of attack.

"Fall," he muttered. "Who fell? I did not."

"I'm afraid it seems you did," Anna answered, not in a humour for the elf's own peculiar variety of observation. She sat down across from him with a grunt.

"You are keen," he said. "No. _You _fell. You slipped, and I followed you."

Anna looked at him blankly.

"Why?"

_"_Why? I do not know. Why do I do anything? Because you were some absurd human child who had fallen into trouble once again, and I for some god-known reason felt compelled to help."

"I beg your pardon?" she stammered.

He coughed and looked even more sour than before.

"You should. Always you fools toss yourselves headlong into danger like mad lemmings, but can I ever leave you to your fates? No."

"What? I don't—why did you follow me, anyway? What did you hope to do?"

"I do not know. Perhaps I should have sat down and formulated a plan, but your squeaking sounded rather urgent."

_"Squeaking?" _Anna exclaimed. "I fell off a cliff! What is the matter with you?"

The daze of her fall and the rantings of her would-be rescuer rang together in her head and she groaned, fighting hard against the urge to throttle him.

"What indeed?" Xan began, but he bit his lip and leaned over, clutching his abdomen. "No. I am sorry...you can forgive me my outburst, I hope."

"Are you all right?" she asked hesitantly.

"No."

"Let me see—"

"No."

She reached out but he pushed her away. His touch left a sticky wetness behind and Anna's heart jumped looking at her darkened hands.

"Two shots. I must be stronger than I think, or likely Jaheira's skill is great."

"Gods' sake, Xan, lie down," Anna muttered.

....

She managed to coax the elf out of his ball and examined his injury as best she could in the dim light. He groaned slightly as she felt the punctures that the druid's blessings partially healed, now torn open again by the fall. The marks were no wider than a fingertip but she didn't want to think of the damage the serrated quarrel shafts had done to his innards. Quickly she began fumbling in her bags for dressings and herbs.

"I wish Finn was here," she said to herself.

"Finn?" he croaked. "Why, do you think watching you two performing carnal acts would somehow ease my passing?"

Anna bit her tongue and shook her head, again restraining the idea of doing the elf further injury.

"You talk a great deal for a dying man."

He scoffed but said nothing else. She pressed the bandage gently against his stomach and he groaned.

"Hold it there if you can," she said.

Xan kept his hands folded over the wounds and laid in a manner almost suggesting repose. Anna pulled a small wooden bowl from a pouch and broke in pieces of comfrey root, cone flower and other herbs. She poured onto them a little water, held her hands over the bowl and began speaking a spell of her own design.

Healing potions needed distilling thrice over and between times blessed by the sun's light, they needed components and essences she hadn't had at her disposal for months. The few herbs in her pouch would hardly compensate but there was nothing else she could do. The group's last remaining potions of healing were swallowed up in Tazok's camp and there were none for purchase in Greenvale.

....

The elf asked for water and she held her waterskin to his mouth. He managed a few swallows before moving his head away with a sputter, sending it dribbling down his neck.

_"Feuya," _he breathed. "Water should not taste of an animal's hide."

Anna stirred the herbs and said nothing but Xan rambled quietly.

"I miss the fountain. The beautiful white fountain. Corellon, one drop from there..."

"What fountain?" she asked.

"In the garden. Home... So cold, sweet like fruits. Water here is always brown. Mud. Father said Hanali once bathed there, why it was so sweet. Said if I had fortune I might see her again. How many nights did I sit, waiting in hope?"

He laughed to himself and Anna's fears grew. His words trailed off into Elvish and he seemed less and less aware of her presence.

_"Xan," _she said sharply, and he started. "Drink this."

She strained out the herbs with a cloth and raised his head so he could drink. He sputtered against the bitterness but she managed to get most of the liquid inside him. Xan's breathing slowed and she prayed her impromptu potion had some effect. His face looked ghostly in the moonstone's blue light; drained of even his usual weak colour it had an almost porcelain delicacy that would be beautiful in one not hovering on the edge. He stared sleepily into the darkness and his lips moved without sound, in prayer or conversation with figures Anna couldn't see. She wondered but emptied the herbs back into the bowl to make another draught.

....

The dazed elf swallowed another few bowlfuls before completely fading off into sleep. Anna sighed and checked his bandage; the bleeding on the surface thankfully had stopped but she could say nothing of within. He lay so still on the rock that she nervously held her cracked mirror under his mouth to see if he still breathed.

Watching him lying there it occurred to her she'd never actually seen an elf sleep. She'd seen Kivan and the enchanter in reverie, their vacant eyes open to the night sky, but never truly asleep. The ranger even had the occasional habit of taking his reverie sitting up, a feat that had caught her off-guard more than once.

She sighed again and the noise turned into pain as she strained her ribs. The tiny cave was silent, so silent the faint hum in her ears sounded like a beehive. Where were the others? She had no idea how long it was since they fell, it might've been hours, minutes, years. She wanted to cry out but didn't dare, fearing who might hear.

But perhaps Imoen and Jaheira were dead. They might all be dead by now, her and the nearly lifeless elf alone left breathing. Finn might be dead. For one moment a vision of him burned clearly in her mind—Finn lying broken on the stone floor, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. His dead eyes were open and they stared into hers. She shook her head, trying to drive the image away. It was a dream, her mind playing tricks on her. Finn was alive, he must be. But what if they reached the gate? Finn might think she was dead as well, he would flood the mines—she suddenly looked frightened up at the dark crack, half-expecting a surge of water to burst through.

She reached down and grabbed a handful of rock, rubbing it between her fingers just to make a noise. It was too quiet there. Too hot. How could a cave so far underground be hot? With a soft moan she prayed to her goddess, begging her to lift her out of that place.

....

_"Beast—away, away!"_

Anna jumped as Xan suddenly cried out in Elvish, his voice still ragged but strong enough to set the walls ringing. He seemed to wake but hung half in his dream, staring past Anna while driving away her hands as she tried to calm him. She kept calling his name, frightened he might injure himself again and he eventually stopped flailing.

"Where is he? The orc, is he dead?" he asked, falling back against the stone.

"He is dead. Long dead. We freed you, don't you remember?" Anna said.

"Free? I am not free. I am still there!"

Xan groaned but laughed slightly, running his hands through his hair.

"You are free, Xan," Anna said. "This is just...another mine."

She began preparing another potion. The herbs had been steeped too many times but she needed to drain whatever value they still possessed. He turned his head and looked at her.

"Was that a jest? It is not a good one."

"An observation," she said firmly.

The elf made a noise and looked back towards the ceiling. Anna actually felt relieved by his attitude—poking barbs at her rather than speaking with phantoms was a good sign. She offered him the draught and he drank it with a grimace.

"You survived the last mine, and you'll survive this. They will come for us soon," Anna tried to reassure him.

"Please tell me you do not truly believe that," he replied. "Where are they, then? How long have I slept? Is it days? I wakened from nightmares only to return to the one that never fades."

"Don't start, please," she said sharply. "I don't know how long it's been. But they will come...they have to," she added, trailing away.

"People have to do nothing in this life except die, and it is certain our companions have already taken that step. Do not lull yourself into hope."

"What shall I do then?" Anna flashed at him. "Shall I cut my own throat? Will that improve my lot?"

"You may find yourself thankful you have that option," he said quietly. "I did not."

He tried to sit up but made another noise and laid back down. Anna looked at him and let out a long breath.

"What are you talking about?"

"Elves cannot take our own lives. We can charge like fools into battle, risking our precious blood and even our spirits but we cannot commit suicide. Life is a gift to be treasured, and those who willingly part with it are denied paradise forever."

"That seems harsh," Anna said.

"As is much in this world," Xan replied. "But it is not for us to decide."

"No. I suppose not."

....

The elf went quiet and Anna looked down at the bowl of soggy herbs. She sighed and splashed more water into the basin. Xan moved his arm where it covered his eyes and peered at her balefully.

"Not more of that, I shall die all the faster. But perhaps that is not a bad thing."

"How is it you survived for months under Mulahey's care?" Anna said, an edge in her voice. Tending to Xan would drive even the most patient nurse to distraction.

"I do not know," the elf replied. "Clearly fate chose to hand out a more ironic end than the one she had decided upon."

"Xan—" Anna sighed.

"I do not know how I survived there," he repeated, his sarcasm unexpectedly melting. "I should have faded away. Deprived of the sun, away from my kin...but my life remained. Perhaps I did not truly want to die there, to leave my moonblade in the hands of that foul orc. Perhaps he angered me enough that I wished to live, I do not know. He enjoyed setting his kobolds on me."

"I've noticed before how much you hate them," Anna said quietly.

Xan shuddered and clenched his teeth.

"It was a great amusement to him, to watch them biting me, scratching at me...crawling up inside my robes. He would mock me as I lay in agony, asking how the great elf liked lying there, bleeding in his own excrement. He hated my kind. He told me elves killed his orcish father. Never mind that he was likely a child of rape...I cannot imagine even the lowest of women willingly laying with an orc."

Anna looked at him, taken aback by his frankness. She handed him the bowl in silence and he choked the contents down.

"He was a fool but he knew of moonblades," he continued. "He knew enough not to touch it. I wished he would—I waited for him to pick up my blade, to fry his filthy hands on it, to watch him burst into flames, but no. He let the kobolds do that. They managed to get it far enough from my body that it would sustain me, but only just. I felt sick all the time."

"Gods, Xan," Anna said. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"You did not truly think he kept me just for a pleasant chat, did you?" the elf said sharply, but fell back with a sigh. "No. I did not see the point. I was alive, I was saved. _Saved!_"

He let out another hollow laugh and shut his eyes.

"How is it you couldn't charm him? Was he protected like Tazok?"

"No...I was in too much pain. He saw to that. When I heard your battle I felt that someone had come, though whether they were to be my rescuers or executioners I knew not. Still I called out with all my strength. At that point I did not care if I lived or died, but...I did not want to be forgotten, left to linger on in that hole."

....

His voice shook and he covered his eyes again. Anna felt strange. She had given oddly little thought to Xan's imprisonment, and given the dismissive way he generally treated her sympathy for the elf was not abundant. She recalled how they'd discovered him chained to the wall in that damp cave, barely alive and covered in filth. To be forced into another mine would be a horror for him, little wonder he'd been sweating. She thought too of what it must have taken for him to follow her down that dark shaft. Her hand reached out and she brushed his arm. Xan jumped at the touch and she jerked her hand away.

"You might've gone home after we freed you," Anna said quickly. "Wasn't there anyone who could continue your work?"

He drew his hands away from his eyes and stared hard at the rock above.

"My 'work' as you quaintly put it is not open to barter. _Mitholrim _are not given time away for every skinned knee. I must carry on until the mission is complete, or I am given new orders, or—" he broke off.

"But there were others here. That woman in Beregost—"

"Is now back in Evereska, far from this Sword Coast."

Xan interrupted her sharply. Anna's eyebrow raised and the elf lay in silence, biting at his lip.

"I'm sorry you cannot be with your kin," she said finally.

"Yes. But do not let it trouble you. I am used to travelling with—humans."

He paused at the last and Anna's eyes narrowed.

"What were you going to say? Children?"

"No, _N'Tel'Quess," _he said, throwing her a puzzled look. "But I realise humans tend to be sensitive of that term, so I try to be diplomatic."

Anna scoffed.

"You do? Since when? You have called me a child at every possible turn. Is that what you truly think?" Her long-running irritations suddenly gave way to the stifling heat of the cave and she let them flow. "I am a woman. Short-lived perhaps, but no less of one because of it. And you, you always look at me that way, like...like I'm some piece of fluff floating by in the wind. I won't have it any more. I am a person, Xan, and you will look at me!"

....

Her final statement echoed before being swallowed by the darkness. Anna clapped her mouth shut. She felt deflated by her own pointless, rambling outburst. Xan blinked at her, surprised.

"Do you feel better now?"

"No," Anna replied.

She groaned a little and wilted back like a plant in need of watering.

"Then you have some sense, after all."

Anna glared at him, her irritation rising again.

"It was a serious question. Clearly you must think of me as a child or you wouldn't repeat it so often."

"You put too much thought into idle words. It meant nothing," he replied.

"And you do not seem like the sort to throw words around. Tell me."

Xan looked weary but drew a breath.

"I never meant it literally, that should be obvious. Is a sparrow a child for having only a few short years to its life? No. But you proclaim wisdom over those who are only a few years younger than yourselves. Magnify that by centuries, or millennia even and you will begin to understand the elven perspective."

"That's still arrogance," Anna commented. "How many died during your Crown Wars? How much land was laid waste by your spells? Your race is no less flawed than humans, you've just had longer to work at it."

....

Xan frowned. A retort formed in his mouth but it faded into a quiet, mirthless laugh. He shut his eyes again and rubbed his abdomen. Anna slid his hands away to check his bandage. The marks looked wet, glistening slightly in the faint light. She said nothing to Xan but quickly folded a fresh dressing and began casting over her bowl once more.

"Do not bother with that," he said quietly.

"It's no trouble," she replied.

"I meant, there is no point. It is not enough, Anna."

She glanced up at him. His face was serious and he gazed at her levelly. It startled her and she went back to her potion.

"We must try," she said.

"No."

"What do you want me to do, then?" Anna said, her throat beginning to smart. "There isn't anything else, I don't know—"

Nervously she jerked her hands, accidentally flipping the bowl onto its rim. In horror she watched it rolling slowly, wobbling towards the hole in the cavern floor. With a cry she dashed forwards. Landing on her stomach her fingertips managed to seize the bowl just before it fell into darkness. Realising she was dangling over the edge she pulled away in panic. She hitched herself back, feeling something wet under her palms. She cursed realising the herbs were now ground into the dust on the stone floor. Crawling on her knees she began scooping the bits of flower and rock into the bowl.

"Anna—"

"Don't worry, I can save them."

"Anna—"

"It will be all right! There's still enough here..."

_"Anna."_

Xan spoke in that voice and she stopped and looked at him. He shook his head slightly. Anna sat back, wiping her eyes with shaking, dusty hands.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry for everything."

"As am I," he said quietly. "But there is nothing to apologise for."

Slowly Anna crawled to him and sat beside the elf.

"What—what do we do now?" she said.

"Nothing."

The word was dry and empty. Xan glanced up at her, his face neutral and still. Anna shifted to help him rest his head on her leg rather than the hard stone floor.

The cave fell silent. A song tried briefly to escape from her lips but her cracked, thick voice startled her and she stopped. She looked down at the elf. His eyes shut but his laboured chest told he still breathed. She ran a hand over his damp, tangled hair and stared numb at the gap in the floor.


	49. Release

"Anna."

The sound of her name spoken in the silent cave startled her and she jumped. She glanced down at the colourless elf, surprised to see him looking up at her.

"What is it?"

"If it becomes too much...draw my blade."

Anna stared at him.

"There may be pain, but...it would be swift."

A cold, sick chill ran through her and she looked away. Xan's quiet offer struck like a hammer blow on that part of her still in denial of their situation. For months death had whirled around her, scattering lives away helplessly as leaves before the wind. Her own end she'd pondered, in quiet moments of dark nights—the hewing blow of a sword, an arrow to the eye, flesh cooked by a spell—but never had she thought of this. To wait, till food was gone and water was gone, to sit as death inched closer like a worm, days, a fortnight, how long? Just her in a tomb, waiting to join the corpse of her companion as he rotted at her side.

She pulled away from the elf and rising swiftly screamed up into the crack. She barely knew what she said—the words burst out and went slamming into the cave walls, their echoes lapping forth over one another like waves. Someone must hear, anyone. A guard, even Tazok himself, she didn't care. She needed to get out of that hole.

Another noise kept striking her and slowly she realised it was Xan, calling out her name.

"Anna...stop."

His voice was hollow and dry but he spoke with conviction. Anna suddenly remembered what he said to her that day they struggled over Kivan's dying frame. Drawing a few shaking breaths she collapsed back onto the floor.

"I'm sorry. Can I—do anything?"

"No. Just...be still."

The elf went silent again. He shut his eyes and his head lolled to one side. Strangely though he kept clutching at the hilt of his blade, his fingers trembling slightly in apparent exhaustion. Anna sat frozen, waiting for them to release their grip, but they remained.

....

A thought took her and she reached quietly for her bag, pulling out a small, four-pointed star of woven straw. Worshippers of the Earthmother made them during the celebrations at harvestide, in thanks for the gifts of the fields and to remind themselves of her promise of bounty in the lean times of winter. People would hang the stars in kitchens and over doors to bless their houses until the next year's harvest came and the stars kindled the farmers' bonfires, completing the turn of the year.

Anna had little idea what inspired her to pull the star from her doorframe that morning she left Beregost—sentimentality perhaps, a reminder of home. She'd woven the star from golden straw and herbs of her own garden, giving it a variegated appearance of green and gold. Her bag bent it out of shape and the rain had soaked it many times leaving it slightly musty but she still carried it with her.

Now she laid it on the cave floor and spoke an incantation, sending a spark of flame crawling along the branches. A grey coil of smoke rose up and Anna fought against emotion as the faint scent of harvest fields drifted into the cave's stale air. Quietly she prayed to Chauntea, begging for help of any kind. She watched as the little red flames exhausted their fuel and died into ash. The smoke faded away but she still sat and stared, empty and numb.

A faint _chink_ caught her ears but she ignored it; pebbles had been randomly falling since their descent. But then another came, and another, soon increasing into shower of stone. Her heart pounding Anna drew away from the crack, doing her best to shield Xan from the falling rocks. A moment later she stared in shock as a strange man dropped into their cave light as a cat.

At first Anna thought his head was on fire and she gasped, but the light moved and she saw that he'd been holding a lantern in his teeth. He stood holding the bright light before him as he regarded the mages, and Anna stared back, trying to process the visitor.

His frame was battered and wiry, his body naked except for a worn piece of cloth tied around his waist. Long, greasy grey hair flowed around his stubbled face and he stared at the pair with remarkably keen eyes. She broke from his gaze and looked down at the elf. The man quickly set the lantern down and kneeled before Xan, and Anna let out a sound of relief as he invoked the name of Ilmater.

....

"Hold still, my girl, that's it..."

Anna tried not to breathe as the man felt her ribcage and called forth blessings for her. Her ribs burned in pain for a moment but letting out a breath she knew her injuries were mended. She looked over at Xan who now sat propped on his elbows, a look of blank confusion on his still-pale face.

"You are Rill, are you not?" he asked. "That man I saw chained to the wall. How are you free? How are you here?"

"I am," the man answered. His voice was gravelly and worn as the rocks but it had warmth in it. "The guards were kind enough to let me go."

"They let you go?" Anna exclaimed. "Why?"

"These men have been robbed of compassion for so long they forgot what it looks like. I've managed to dredge it up in my time here, piece by piece. Some of them have learned the error of their ways and now seek to put things right."

"That is—unbelievable," Xan remarked, slumping backwards again with a breath.

"Not with faith, my good elf. And a bit of luck too," Rill chuckled. "Your friends gave a helping hand."

"Who—?" Anna said quickly.

"Two lovely ladies by the names of Imoen and Jaheira, if I remember right. They're waiting for you up top. Now, if you're feeling ready to move?"

Rill stood up and turned his back to Anna while crouching down slightly. She stared at him, confused.

"Grab hold of my shoulders, lass. You can do it," he said.

"Do what?"

"Just grab hold, and hold on tight," he repeated in a tone usually reserved for children.

Anna looked again at Xan but gathered her things and did as directed. Rill replaced the lantern in his mouth and Anna nearly let go in surprise as he made a remarkable leap up into the crack. Grunting he clawed his way up the steep rock face, his body pressed hard against the rough stone as he climbed. Anna hardly dared to breathe, clinging to the man and wondering where the battered priest found the strength for such a feat.

....

Soon she began to see another light and nearly cried out in joy hearing familiar voices talking excitedly. A pair of familiar arms reached out and helped to slide her and the priest to safety.

"You're okay! Thank the gods, we didn't know if you were alive or—" Imoen chattered, cutting off her words by giving Anna an unexpected hug.

"Yes, this is a relief," Jaheira said, a grim smile on her mouth. "We had no way of reaching you before this, and we thought it better to seek the prisoner before attempting rescue. But what of Xan?"

"Alive, just barely," Rill replied, answering for the mage who still felt too stunned to speak. "But I'd better go and fetch him, this spell won't last forever."

He promptly disappeared down into the hole. Anna looked at her companions with a smile of weary relief, trying to form some words. She saw movement behind Jaheira though and felt another frightened jolt pass through her. The druid followed her gaze and spoke quickly.

"They are with us now," she said, her eyes narrowing at the two guards who regarded Anna with unreadable looks.

"Rill said they let him go," the mage said, staring back at them.

"Aye, with some _encouragement _from ourselves," Jaheira snorted.

"I told you, lady, we ain't all sick bastards here," one of the guards spoke. "I didn't know what this was meant to be when I signed on—they wanted guards, take the money and no questions asked. But what the hells you expect us to do about it? If I tried leaving they'd have my head. I feel sorry for this lot but I feel sorrier for my own hide, if you get my meaning."

The other guard nodded in agreement but Jaheira still scowled.

"Where are the others?" Anna managed to choke. "How long have we been down there?"

"I do not know myself," Jaheira replied. "We have not seen the others since we left them."

She spoke grimly and Anna leaned in exhaustion against the tunnel wall, gladly taking wine from the skin that Imoen offered. She looked down hearing a noise and stepped back as Jaheira stooped to help the priest drag Xan through the gap.

....

"That's it, lad—on your feet, you're all right," Rill said encouragingly, helping the wobbling elf to stand.

"Strange I do not feel it," Xan muttered back.

"Gods, you look like death," Imoen remarked.

Xan glared at her.

"I only meant it was good you're alive," she replied a bit sulkily.

"He should—he was more in the other realm than here. But the hands of the Crying God brought him back from the edge," Rill announced.

"Yes, to live to die another day. Fortune smiles on me again," the elf said, leaning up against the rock wall.

"Do you need more aid?" Rill asked.

"Him? What about you?" Imoen broke in.

The priest's legs and torso were cut and bleeding from scraping along the rocks. He glanced down but brushed it aside with a wave.

"They look worse than they are. Just a mild sting—it's almost pleasant, like a cold bath," he said, smiling.

Imoen stared at him and shook her head. The druid sighed and gave him a similar expression.

"Come, if you are all hale we need to find the others. You first," she said to the guards, and pointed with her mace up the passage.

The men gave her a look but started up the corridor towards the slave pens. Xan pulled himself away from the rock with a groan and followed slowly. Anna glanced at him but he kept his eyes on the floor.

....

They came across the bodies of several guards who apparently were less congenial than the ones which agreed to release the priest. The living guards glanced at their fallen comrades with little more than passing curiosity.

"Never did care for Alven," one remarked to the other, nodding at one of the bodies. "He borrowed a bag of silver from me and I never saw it again."

The other man agreed and Anna sighed, no more troubled about the dead men than the guards. Although her injuries seemed mostly healed her head kept spinning. She'd lost all track of time in the cave—she had no idea how long they'd been trapped there or how long it'd been since Finn and the others set off with the slaves. Vaguely she wondered too how long it'd been since she last slept. Whether from fatigue or nerves she swayed as she walked and her muscles tingled strangely.

The guards suddenly slowed, their hands reaching automatically for their weapons. Anna saw a light ahead and heard the distinctive sound of a drawing sword. She melted in relief seeing who held the blade.

"What's all this? Are you all right?"

Finn stood at attention, holding out a lantern and eyeing the guards with suspicion. Without a word Anna hurried to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"Hey, whoa," Finn said surprised, trying to sheathe his sword. "It's alright. Are you okay? What happened?"

He drew his free arm around her, his look changing from slightly amused to concerned when he saw her face. Anna didn't answer but pressed her head into his chest.

"Jaheira, what's going on?" he asked again.

"We have rescued Rill, and these guards have kindly offered to assist our cause," she answered flatly, giving the men another glare in the unlikely chance they missed the previous ones. "Anna and Xan fell into a cave and we only just managed to get to them. Where are the others?"

"We're all accounted for," Finn replied, giving Anna a closer squeeze. "We got the injured slaves out, but we didn't know where the hells you'd gone. We've got some problems though."

"What problems?"

"Problems as in we were ambushed on our way up there," Finn said. "We've left enough bodies behind us there's no way we can hide we're here anymore. I'm surprised the alarms haven't been ringing already."

Jaheira groaned and they hurried up the slope. Finn kept his arm around Anna and tried to give her a smile, but she noticed that shadow of fear hadn't left his eyes. They paused hearing Imoen's voice pipe up from behind.

"Guys—a little help?"

Anna turned to see Xan's arm draped around the girl's shoulders as she tried to hold the wavering elf upright. The druid said something under her breath and hurried to the pair.

"What's happened to him?" Finn asked.

Anna only shook her head in response; the words for their experience in the cave were still hiding frightened somewhere inside her stomach.

....

With the elf able to hobble on his own feet they carried on, soon hearing the frightened and urgent sound of the slaves coming through the tunnel ahead. The mob was free again and they'd spilled out into the main passage, each filthy man and woman trying to squeeze past the others to put as much space as possible between themselves and their prison. Anna saw her comrades trying vainly to control the crowd.

"Good people, please," she heard Ajantis call. "If you are to escape we must have order."

The knight's serious tones did nothing and the crowd kept pushing. Anna saw one slave go down onto their knees and tug at Kivan's clothing, imploring the elf in words she couldn't hear. She couldn't tell if the person was man or woman but the figure clung to him like a shipwrecked sailor to a plank of wood. The startled elf tried to dislodge the slave but they remained, imploring him over and over.

The person turned their head at the approach of new lanterns. They focused on the guards, and promptly let out a terrified scream.

When the slaves realised what caused the cry they pushed backwards, almost knocking Khalid off his feet as he tried to push through the mob to reach Jaheira. The guards stood still, a hunted look of guilt mixed with anger or fear crossing their faces. From behind another voice broke through.

"Why are you scattering like chickens? Friends, your freedom is here!"

The crowd's mood tangibly changed hearing the old priest speak; they halted in their attempts to escape and a number called out his name.

_"Rill! Rill's here!"_

"I am, I am. None the worse for wear, either, though I'm not exactly dressed for a party," he laughed. "Don't worry about these lads here. They've been good to me while I was in their company, and we've had a lot of good talks. They're going to help us now."

....

Rill began calling some of the slaves by name. His tone was a thousand miles from the stinking mineshaft; he bantered easily like a man relaxing with friends in his own comfortable sitting room. His effort had the intended effect though and Anna could feel the nervous crowd slowly loosening, some tense smiles even drifting over a few faces. The slave that had hold of Kivan released him and stumbled forwards to the priest.

"Rill—I tried telling 'em. Jerrin is up there. You said he was in the kitchens. I'm not leaving my boy! We can't leave him!"

Anna could tell now the slave was a woman, for whatever it mattered in that place. Her hair was matted and tears turned the dirt on her face to mud as they rolled down her bony cheeks. Rill took her arms and tried to soothe her.

"And we'll find him. Look at all these big strong fellows here. We'll find him, Kiri, don't worry."

The woman calmed slightly in his embrace. Another slave spoke though, and Anna recognised him as the angry man from before.

"Why're you still lying to her? Nobody's seen that lad for how long now? They didn't take him to the kitchens. He couldn't half stand—face it, your boy's dead."

"You shut up!" the woman screeched at him. "Rill says he's alive, then he is."

"And how would he know?" the man shot back. "They don't let him up there for a quick bite or nothing. Storytime is done. We need to get out, not go on some mad chase for a lad that's not breathing."

"Moradin's hammer, what's the matter with ye?" a voice growled, and Yeslick pushed through. "Leave the lady be."

"Lady my arse," the man spat. "Just some whore with a bastard son. I seen her working the docks with me own eyes! Gave me the hello-dear till I told her to jump into the abyss."

The woman launched into a tirade of curses and tried to lash at him but Rill easily held her weak frame back. Yeslick's eyes snapped and he stormed up to the man.

"And if _you_ say ought else today I'll send ye there myself—and some parts of ye might get there sooner than others, understand?" he said, and the man winced regarding the height of his dwarven fist. "I've had it up to here with ye!"

"Ask them," the woman exclaimed, pointing at the increasingly uncomfortable-looking guards. "They'd know. Where's my boy? He's about that tall, dark hair—"

"Don't know," one answered briefly.

"What do you mean, you don't know? You eat, dontcha?"

"I don't remember any lads there," he said, the strong man turning his eyes from the tiny woman's intense gaze. "Maids bring the food. We don't go into the kitchens."

"What'd I tell you?" the slave man said with a kind of triumph.

"And I told ye—"

Anna jumped as Yeslick took a swing at the man, landing his fist thankfully more north of the threatened area. He wheezed as his breath left him and crumpled to the floor. The tunnel burst into noise again as the crowd began shouting.

....

_"Stop!"_

Rill climbed onto the broken remains of a wheelbarrow. His head scraped the ceiling in the low tunnel but he stood above the others.

"No more fighting, my friends, I beg you! These good people will lead us all to the surface, but this must cease. You feel weak and afraid, I know. Your bodies are broken, but life still runs through your veins. The pain you feel only makes you stronger. We have the strength to stand if we hold on to our brothers and sisters. Together we can escape this place."

"Nice speech," Yeslick remarked. He reached out a hand for the slave that lay crumpled and gasping on the floor and pulled him to his feet. "Get up, ye twat. What Rill here means to say is we need to fight our way out o' this place, tooth and nail."

"You serious?" a slave spoke. "We can't fight nobody."

"And here's hoping you won't have to," Yeslick replied. "But this whole mine's likely to come down on our heads at any minute. We stay here, we're dead anyway. You got no choice."

The party had found themselves literally pushed to the sides during the scuffle and none said anything, but Finn suddenly spoke.

"Hang on—what's all this about kids and maids up top? You never said. Were you just going to have us flood the mines with them there?"

"Flood?" Rill said quickly. "My good dwarf, by Ilmater's bonds tell me you've given up on that idea."

"The hells I have," Yeslick snapped up at the priest. "They aren't going to get away with this."

Rill shook his head. "You can't make things right with more death. Let's lead these people to safety, that's penance enough."

"No," Yeslick said, a strange light in his eyes. "I love ye, Rill, but you're a mad old bastard with all yer bleedin' talk. I wasn't—see here, I wouldn't flood the place knowing there was so much as the cook's fat pussycat still up there. But they keep the servants close, don't they? We can get to them, I know it. I can do this."

His voice rose to a keen pitch. Rill stepped off his barrow and went to the dwarf, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"No, friend, you can't. It's time to leave. Bury your guilt, and help these people live."

The dwarf's fists balled up and his eyes glittered.

"He is right, this plan of yours seems impossible," Jaheira remarked. "We shall be lucky to escape with our lives from here. We must leave, now."

"But my son," Kiri moaned.

"I'll find him," Yeslick said, breaking from his trance. "I'll get them all. You're right, why're we nattering here? Everybody move out! The back door's not far. Come on, ye lazy sods!"

....

The command seemed to be the one the slaves heeded without persuasion, and the crowd began pushing their way forwards. Anna felt like fighting her way through the slaves and running fast as she could for the surface; the stench of the tunnel combined with the hot breath of so many made her want to faint or be sick. She glanced back once at Xan and judging from his face he felt much the same. Imoen seemed to take on the role of shepherding him along, walking slightly behind the elf and regarding him cautiously while biting her lip. Anna turned and let out a small cry of joy seeing the doors to the dwarven tunnel finally gaping ahead.

"Right, now everybody keep the noise down and follow me," Yeslick announced in a loud whisper.

He hurried off down a passage without another word, and the slaves moved as one after him.

"Is the dwarf trying to get them killed?" Kivan hissed to Khalid and Jaheira.

"I know," Jaheira replied shortly. "Just go—go."

The ranger slipped ahead, trying to pace Yeslick's forward dash.

"What the hells," Finn said. "They meet any guards they'll get dropped like flies."

"Perhaps we should aid them, then," the druid replied. "You guard the rear."

The pair quickened their pace and pushed through the slaves.

"Right, I'll do that," Finn muttered.

He looked angry but his face had an air of a boy ordered to pick up his toys and wash for dinner. It occurred to Anna just how quickly his authority vanished once they entered the mines—once more the Harpers stepped forward and took control without missing a beat. She thought too if they would be in such a state if they'd held the reins all along.

At times she couldn't help but wonder if whoever gave the pair their mysterious order to let Finn lead truly had their welfare at heart. And despite his attitude she could tell that Finn must have wondered the same—however determined he was, he wasn't a fool not to feel his own inexperience slapping him in the face again and again. Perhaps his often angry temper was his way of lashing out in frustration against his lack of control.

He looked at her and she took his hand, giving him a squeeze and a warm smile. His face stayed grim but his eyes lightened and he looked back towards the passage ahead.


	50. Follow Me Around

Most of the slaves were barefoot but the crowd still made a shuffling, whispering noise as they passed through the passageways towards the hidden entrance. Following along behind them Anna could scarcely believe their luck. The day's mining should've begun long ago but still they saw no guards. No one had come to drive the workers out into the tunnels, no one even appeared in the halls. Was the mine on holiday? It was worrying but Anna shrugged it off, her mind focused only in one direction.

"Not far now," Finn whispered next to her, looking cautiously down an empty side-passage.

Anna nodded in return, unsure if he'd been speaking to her or himself. With each step escape came closer and her heart hammered in her chest. To be free of that place, to see the sun—at that moment she didn't believe even the slaves longed for that more than she.

Although one person at least did, Anna thought as she spared a backwards glance at Xan. He moved swiftly considering his injuries but he still lagged behind the others. With Imoen and Ajantis there to help she didn't worry too much about him falling behind but she still wondered if she and Finn shouldn't slacken their pace. Finn stayed close to the slaves though and she remained by his side.

....

Anna soon stopped frightened in her tracks hearing Yeslick swearing at the fore of the group.

"What's this? What the poxy friggin' hells is this?"

She heard a deep resonating and realised the dwarf must be banging his fists against the stone wall that blocked their advance. By the hollow noise Anna reckoned it must be a door of some sort though she couldn't see any handles or seams.

"Will you cease?" Kivan hissed. "The rock sounds like a drum, there is no telling who will hear."

"This shouldn't be shut in the daytime. The doors are always open," Yeslick muttered to himself, ignoring the elf.

"Is there no way around?" Jaheira asked.

"Aye. Aye," the dwarf replied. "But it'll take us by the long way. We'll have to cut through the kitchens and the place might just be rammed with guards."

"Kitchens? Oh, thank the gods!" Kiri moaned.

Her face blossomed into an expression of nervous joy as she praised an unknown deity.

"This may be a blessing," Rill began. "But we must be prepared as well."

"Prepared? Prepared for what?" she asked anxiously.

"To battle," Ajantis said quietly. "Come, let us all follow this good dwarf."

"Yep. Our luck's not run out yet, there's service passages behind the kitchens. We won't have to cut through the mess and it saves us time in talking to the cooks as well! Come on, move out!"

Yeslick called again and pushed his way through the crowd, heading off down another passageway. The rest hurried after him but Ajantis placed a hand on the priest's shoulder, holding him back.

"Tell me, good father—this woman's child, do you truly believe he lives?"

Rill's eyes looked pained but he gave the knight a small smile.

"We can all pray, my friend."

Ajantis sighed and said nothing more.

....

Although the halls mostly looked the same something told Anna that Yeslick was leading them into a part of the mine they hadn't seen. The passages quickly grew narrower, forcing them to move no more than two abreast. No doors lined these halls but she began to feel a strange sense of unease that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Something was wrong. She could feel it building in the air.

"Finn," she said, touching his arm. "There's something—"

Behind them Xan suddenly cried out.

_"Neuma! Magic—get down!"_

As he spoke Anna saw a light on a wall ahead of them. A strange pattern was painted there and it glowed of its own volition, energy flickering along its lines. Their steps triggered the ward and the symbol suddenly flashed white-hot, burning the back of her eyes and darkening her vision.

Finn grabbed her but the slaves didn't seem to understand the elf's cry until it was too late. The air crackled with electricity as the bolt shot through the hall faster than any arrow, leaving screams and the scent of burnt flesh in its wake. It struck the wall behind them and ricocheted, penetrating the slaves unlucky enough to be in its path. The symbol reabsorbed the energy and began flickering once more.

_"Silvanus—stay down, stay down," _Jaheira croaked, dragging herself across the floor towards a man who twitched in a fit.

The air crackled again as another bolt shot just above their heads. Anna rose to her knees and looked at the symbol, squinting her eyes against the glow. Wards were a particular interest of her father's and she'd studied them well, mainly to learn the ways of breaking the ones he placed on certain books and cabinets. The ward flashed and she cursed silently realising it must be self-repeating; it would trigger indefinitely in the presence of movement unless dispelled.

She looked at the moaning slaves, some of whom were trying to rise and she knew they'd never escape the hall without risking fatal injuries. Wards of that sort required a secret word to terminate and she lacked the magic to dispel it otherwise. But there was at least one other thing to try.

...

"Where are you going?" Finn said to her as she began crawling away.

"Come with me," she said, not taking her eyes off the ward.

She moved swiftly as she could, crawling around the bodies of the hurt and dying. One slave pulled desperately at her robe, begging for aid she couldn't give. Anna tugged herself free and paused at the end of the hall.

"What are you going to do?" Finn asked again.

"Wait," Anna replied, her voice shaking. "I—I think I might need you."

"What?"

"Just wait."

Cautiously she peeked around the corner. The hall was dark and she saw no signs of other wards or guards. Moving quickly she rose to her feet and huddled against the cold stone, and Finn followed. Nervously she regarded the flickering pattern on the wall. She waited until it fired its burst and reached out with a trembling hand.

_"What the hells?" _

Finn grabbed her hand, pulling it down.

"I need to," she said. "Just let me—"

"No chance," Finn replied. "Let me do it."

"You don't know which lines to erase, you could make it explode," Anna said. "Just let me."

She turned to him and looked into his eyes. Finn looked almost like he might explode himself, but slowly his face grew resigned.

"Alright. I'm here."

He braced himself and drew an arm tightly around her waist.

"Don't," she said, trying to move his arm away. "It might hurt you too."

Finn responded by giving her a squeeze. Anna turned back to the ward. She waited, watching the flickers until they seemed at their dimmest point. Quickly she forced her shaking hand onto one of the pattern's lines, smearing the paint away.

She almost screamed feeling the energy burning like cold fire along her fingertips, biting into her like she'd been holding a block of solid ice. Her hand dropped and she stared in shock watching the paint steaming on her blistering skin. Finn called her name in a sick voice but she shook her head.

"I'm fine," she breathed, though her stomach felt like it might rebel.

He pulled her closer and she reached out several more times, wiping away the ward's trigger lines in order. Her wet eyes blurred and she struggled to see but at least it kept her from looking at her hand. Her entire arm began to throb from the electricity but at last the ward fizzled and popped, the glow of the lines faded.

Shaking Anna glanced in horror at her hand, trying to fathom that it was actually hers. The skin had peeled away and hung dripping down, exposing the muscle in some places. One nail was half-off and swung on her fingertip like a door. Finn quickly took her hand and pressed it between his. He shut his eyes and she felt faint with the pain of healing. When he released her the dry, dead skin still clung but her hand was whole once more.

"Don't ever do that again, alright?" he said with a shaky laugh.

Anna wiped her eyes and looked at him. His skin was pale and his own eyes looked red. She shook her head and tried to smile.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Not really. I'm a bit peckish, to tell the truth. Hope we get to the kitchens soon."

Anna let out a laugh. They wrapped their arms around each other and Finn gently brushed her lips with his.

....

"You have dispelled the ward?"

She turned her head to see Xan rising from his knees.

"Anna managed it, yeah," Finn said.

"Thank Corellon, that trap was devilish. _Er_, pardon me," the elf said, noticing their close embrace. "I watched you from the hall, you seemed to be having...difficulty. You had dispelling magics at your disposal, did you not?"

"No, but...I managed," Anna said quietly.

"So you did erase the lines?" Xan exclaimed. "I thought as much, but I hoped my eyes deceived me. You are fortunate you didn't lose a hand. Did you not think to ask me first?"

"I didn't," she said, suddenly feeling foolish. "I didn't think about that, I just needed to break the ward."

"I see. I only wish you'd considered what losing a spellcaster could mean to us in this place," he said. "Or at least how living out the rest of our short existence missing an appendage might be"

"She was the one who got hurt, mate," Finn said angrily. "If you were so bloody worried you might've gotten here faster."

"It wasn't an easy task to get through this hall—I could not stand and I had to take care none of these people touched my blade. I tried calling out but I imagine you were somewhat distracted."

"Never mind" Anna broke in, rubbing her hands. "It may have been foolish, but it's done now."

"But, you are not injured?" Xan said, regarding her.

His voice had that queer tone again. Anna paused and quickly dropped her hands to her sides.

"They are, though," she said, trying to swallow whatever it was that crawled into her throat and stayed there. Without another word she hurried back to the slaves.

....

The healers aided the worst injured and most of the slaves had somehow managed to rise to their feet. But Anna saw a number of them lying where they fell, their skin reddened and burned like her now-healed hand.

"Gone in a moment," Rill said to her, following her eyes. "I'm thankful at least their suffering was short."

Although his voice tried to sound like a man seeking hope she saw a flash in his eyes, a look of anger.

"Well. We can cry for the dead later," Yeslick said, gravelly and dry. He ran a hand quickly over his eyes and pulled himself upright. "Let's be on."

"Yes. Point the way, but I shall take the lead," Kivan said.

"What, you think I need you shepherding us through me own mine?" the dwarf bristled.

"This warren may be of your making, but other hands have shaped it since. You did not spot their snares until it was too late. There may be more traps awaiting us and we will need sharp sight to find them."

The ranger's face stayed calm but his eyes glittered. Yeslick puffed out against his bruised dignity.

"There weren't an elf born what had better sight underground than a dwarf. Ye weren't two paces behind me when that thing triggered—where were your keen eyes then, off taking a snooze?"

Kivan scowled but Jaheira spoke quickly.

"If you do not cease, by Silvanus I will throw you both over my knee and give you the spankings you deserve. I have had enough of the arguments of children! Look at these poor people—they need our aid and our strength, not to hear us bickering. Go, now!"

She stamped her boot and pointed down the hallway, her own eyes snapping. Kivan looked surprised and the dwarf sheepish but they both departed without another word.

....

They moved on again, but Anna let out a breath of despair as they came across another sealed door.

_"Dammit!" _Yeslick bellowed.

"Something's going on, ain't it?" one of the turncoat guards spoke. "Fook me, we're in for it."

"B-but there were other doors," Khalid said thoughtfully. "I've seen them, s-set hidden into the walls. Why just sh-shut these?"

Yeslick bit his lip and ran a hand over the rock, staring hard at the stone as though he might crack it with his glare.

"Can't say. We're all right though, we—just gotta go another way."

"Will we still get to the kitchens?" Kiri asked anxiously.

"Yeah, we'll go by there. Some of us—maybe we can send someone out to the cooks."

The assurance in his voice fell flat.

"Me cousin used to do this," a slave spoke quietly, and the others turned to him. "He was a rat-catcher. Block off the tunnels so the rats go where you want. Catch 'em with dogs, club 'em to death. Drown them."

He looked up, glancing around into the other frightened eyes.

"We're the rats, ain't we?"

There was silence.

"Like hells we are," Yeslick said, becoming animated again. "They might think we're vermin but they're gonna find out we've got some pretty sharp teeth. Am I right?"

None of the slaves responded.

"That wasn't a question," the dwarf said, turning away down another passage.

"Don't go that way," a guard suddenly said, stopping him.

"Why not?" Yeslick said, yanking away his arm.

"Well, they moved some hobgoblins in to the lower quarters not this past tenday," he replied, suddenly wary of the eyes that suspiciously regarded him. "The last thing we'd want is to run into those hairy bastards, they're nasty pieces of work."

The other guard quickly backed up his assertion. Yeslick stared at the man hard, like he was trying to read his thoughts. Finding no answer though he sighed.

"If you say so, pally. Alright—this way then."

....

He chose the opposite path, calling the slaves to follow. Anna began to sweat from exhaustion and her increasingly edgy nerves. Yeslick followed his twists and turns down the empty corridors, soon leading them through a hall that she recognised as the place they'd encountered the half-dressed guard.

She glanced at the closed doors, trying to remember which room held the man's body. 'The quarters' he'd called it. Other men must have been there, where were they now?

Her breath left her as a door swung open. Anna saw no confused occupant standing there but a fully-armed guard. For one moment their eyes locked, him staring keenly into her shocked face. Another man crouched at his feet. As in a dream she barely had time to process that they both held crossbows before hearing a command echoed from behind another open door.

_"Attack!"_

By instinct alone Anna spoke and a blue field of energy surrounded her just as the men let loose their quarrels, sending the bolts to the floor like they'd hit stone. Next to her Finn's curse somehow penetrated the screaming of the slaves whose cries broke out in unison, like some terrified choir. The men reloaded without missing a beat and Anna spoke again, hitting the crouching man with a burst of energy and sending him onto his back. The standing guard looked at her in surprise and fired another futile round at her heart with the same result as the first.

Finn pushed past her into the room. He knocked the weapon from the man's hands and drove his sword through his hardened leather at the abdomen, twisting the blade and jerking it upwards before pulling out the stained metal with a grunt. The guard's face looked sick with surprise but he fell in silence to the floor.

He then whirled on the guard hit by Anna's spell. He'd begun to rise but Finn kicked him back and without hesitation stabbed his blade directly into his eye socket. Blood burst out and the man twitched violently, pinned to the floor.

"Where's Imoen? Get into the room!" Finn shouted over the din as he pushed past Anna again, heading out into the melee.

She ignored his command and followed after him. The hall was chaos; the doors were all open and the slaves screamed and shouted, tripping over bodies of slave and guard alike. Anna's comrades shouted commands of their own but they struggled to reach their attackers in the narrow hall.

A few slaves slipped panicking past her down the hall, but Anna was surprised that many of them weren't fleeing. Like cornered animals they suddenly began to fight their attackers, striking at them madly with their bare hands in a wild rage. They pushed their way into the rooms with as much determination as they'd used to force their way from the grates.

She heard a confused noise of shouting and screaming and a terrified-looking guard emerged from a room. Blood trickled down his face, the clawed marks of fingernails apparent on his cheeks. Dirty hands clung to his armour, trying to pull him down. He struggled back, hitting out at some of the slaves but they refused to let go. Burdened by the weight of so many the man fell onto the floor. The slaves leaped on him, some kicking the man with their bare feet, others hitting him and tearing at his exposed skin. The man screamed and begged for mercy but the slaves kept attacking like wild animals. The gang clustered over him and Anna had to turn away from the scene.

....

Though it seemed to last a lifetime the ambush was over soon after it began. The healers aided the hurt slaves but some lay beyond their skill, their life's essence spilled onto the stone floor. The others hung around in a daze, moaning and talking amongst themselves, wailing over lost friends. One slave rose up from a body and turned to the corpse of a guard, swearing at the man and kicking him violently until Ajantis pulled him away.

"They know we're here, don't they?" Finn said, looking over the carnage. "There's no point pretending anymore. They must've known where we were heading, too, if they set this up."

"Gods, gods, we'll never get out!" A man nearly screamed. "How are we supposed to—I don't want to leave them lying there."

He nodded at the bodies of the slaves at his feet.

"This is...sickening," Xan said to the man. "But this will not be the last strike. I am sorry, but we cannot mourn here. We must move on."

"They _can't _know where we're heading, there's no chance in hell!" Yeslick exclaimed, tugging on his bloodied beard. "Nobody but me knows about the back door, and we weren't on the main passage to the surface."

"Maybe they caught the slaves we got out before and they told them. Or maybe your mine's not as secret as you think it is," Finn responded.

...

Yeslick began to reply but one of the guards spoke.

"It's not right. This isn't right," he said, shaking his head.

"You just get here or something?" the dwarf demanded.

"That's not what I mean," he continued, glaring back at him. "If they thought somebody'd invaded the mines the alarms would be ringing everywhere."

"So what's up then?" Finn asked. "We didn't just chance across some armed blokes playing hide and seek here."

"I don't know. Something's wrong though, that's bleedin' obvious."

"What is y-your attack protocol?" Khalid asked.

"If we were in the pits we'd force the workers back into their holes and lock the gate from the inside. Up here the levels would be sealed and all—but why no alarm?" the man repeated, looking up at a silent bell that was recessed into the stone above their heads.

"Maybe it's broken," Finn offered.

"Maybe," the man said, not sounding convinced.

"They just think some workers got out," the other guard said, walking up to the little group and trying to avoid the former prisoners' eyes. "Why else you think nobody's been down here yet? If they really thought we were under attack every guard in here'd be scrambled before ye could blink."

The first guard nodded. "Aye, that sounds about right. We keep these poor saps so—" he paused, then quickly cleared his throat. "Anyway, they don't think these worker fellows are much of a concern. A few've broken free before. It's just a little inconvenience, nothing to get the whole place worked up over."

"That still doesn't make sense," Finn said dubiously. "If they just thought a few slaves were on the run, why set up such a big ambush? And why hasn't anybody been in the pits doing a head count?"

"I don't know what to tell you," the first guard said. "But I can say if they thought this place was under attack we'd know about it."

"I'll bet you would," a slave man said. He approached the guard with nervous anger.

"What?" the man replied.

"Who was it that told us to go this way?" the slave demanded. "You did! You're in on it!"

Instantly the eyes of the other slaves focused in on the guards. The men took a step back.

"You're out of your mind. We could've gotten killed ourselves here, aye?"

"No. You led us here. It was your plan, weren't it? You all know what these bastards have done to us." The slave's pitch rose, and the others moved closer. "Remember? You beat me yourself, when my ankle was twisted and I couldn't walk. You beat poor Mikan to death. And what about Sara, aye? I heard her screaming. I know what you did to that poor girl!"

"I didn't!" the guard exclaimed, holding up his hands. "I never touched her, it wasn't me—"

"You, him—what difference does it make! You _all_ did this, every last one o' ye!"

...

The slave began swearing and the others followed suit. They began grabbing at the terrified men, driving away the party's attempts to stop them.

The guards pulled back, just managing to slip inside a room. Taking a sharp breath Anna pushed her way inside with the crowd, thinking her holding magic might be needed. The slaves backed the men into a corner but they retreated a step when one drew his sword.

He held it up, the blade vibrating in his shaking hand.

"You see here," he said nervously. "Look at it! It's red. I just helped you fight this lot, and so did he! I'm sorry for what we did, it—but if it weren't for us just now even more of you'd be lying on the floor!"

"Oh, aye, he's a generous one," a slave mocked viciously.

"We let Rill go!" the other guard exclaimed. "I brought him water, he might be dead too otherwise."

"He's practically a saint!" another slave shouted. "I don't want them here. I don't want to look at them. I want them dead!"

The crowd parted slightly as the priest himself stepped in between the men and the slaves.

"No! Think, friends, how could these men have set us up? They've been with us the whole time, they haven't talked with anyone. It was just a coincidence."

"Why are you standing up for them?" a slave said. "Don't matter if they set us up or not, they're murderers!"

The crowd muttered agreement and stepped forward. Like a rumble of thunder building Rill's face turned severe and he stood fully upright. Despite his thin frame he was a tall man, and the stormclouds in his eyes were so out of place with his character that even Anna stood back.

"Maybe they are. And they'll face justice, in this world or the next. But everyone deserves a chance to make penance. They're fighting with us now, and there's no reason to think otherwise. Do you think I don't feel hate for what they did to us, to me? Look at these scars!" He held out his arms, showing ugly red marks and bruises. "I've felt the weight of their hands as much as any of you. But we need to be better than this now. These men aren't your enemy anymore. Turn, my friends, and leave this madness."

The tension vibrated around the room. Anna stood stock-still, watching the faces of the slaves. She saw their rage and their pain and most of all, their fear. Those people had a burning terror within them that for all her experiences she could never understand. For some reason the slave's story of the rat-catcher came into her mind. They were helpless, they were all helpless. But not without teeth.

...

Jaheira pushed into the room, followed by Yeslick.

"We need to leave this place," the druid said bluntly.

Her words seemed to break the spell and the slaves fell back.

"Yes. Yes, we must go. There has been enough crawling in the darkness. We need to find the light," Rill said slowly.

"There is nothing more to be done here," Jaheira repeated for the benefit of the slaves. "We must move on."

"There might be something," Rill said thoughtfully. A soft light was shining in his eyes.

"What're you planning now, you devious old coot?" Yeslick asked.

"They most likely think the slaves have escaped. Well then—let's give them a slave escape."

"Pardon?" Jaheira asked.

"With my blessings I can make it so the guards could see me, but they wouldn't be able to touch a withered hair on my head. I could run in another direction and throw them off your trail long enough to get these folks to safety."

"Moradin's hammer, ye have cracked," Yeslick exclaimed. "Ye'd never manage that trick."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say!" Rill replied happily, regaining some of his usual mood. "I think it would work."

"Not saying it wouldn't work. I'm saying you aren't gonna try it. Not while I'm bloody standing here, you're not! I'll knock ye over the head myself first," the dwarf grumbled.

"You could try," the priest replied. "But if the guards couldn't knock me out I don't think you'd have much of a shot."

"Don't start, Rill—" Yeslick began. "And how were you expecting to get out of here, assuming they don't land yer scrawny arse flat on the rock? You just gonna stride out the front door?"

"Perhaps I will!" he said.

"Rill, I'm serious here. You know what we've got planned. I couldn't...if I—" the dwarf hesitated, then continued in an angry voice. "So help me, if I had to risk my own whiskers trying to save yours, all while guiding _this_ useless lot up to the door and fighting more of these bastards—well, a fellow just doesn't have that much time on his hands!"

"I am sorry, my friend," Rill replied. "But I've made up my mind. You know your task as well. Take these people to freedom."

"You're not gonna leave us, are you?" a slave said anxiously.

"I'll meet you again, don't worry. I've made it this far, haven't I? And look at me. Ilmater will guide me. You see to yourselves."

The crowd exclaimed and tried to convince the priest otherwise, but he brushed them away.

"Rill—with respect, this plan sounds like madness," Jaheira said. "You shouldn't attempt such a folly. We will manage, and you have no way of knowing—"

"Who ever has any way of knowing? We do what we can, and that's all we can do."

...

The priest refused to hear any other arguments. Raising his hands he invoked Ilmater, and a strange, shimmering light began to glow around his battered body.

"Farewell, friends—I'll see you under the trees!"

He began to sing a song about a milkmaid in a surprisingly rich voice, interrupting the choruses with a loud, merry laughter. Without another word to anyone he skipped down a hall and disappeared into the darkness.

Some of the slaves moaned. Others wept silently. The guards stared at each other but said nothing.

"He has made his choice, then," Jaheira said to Anna. "Come, we need to leave!"

She called out to the slaves and slowly they all filed out of the hall, leaving the bodies where they lay.


	51. Penance

"Do you think he'll be all right?" Anna questioned Finn.

He frowned in reply, glancing down a passageway and back at the surviving slaves.

"I doubt it."

Anna bit her lip.

"Why do you think he did it?"

"I guess he thought it might give us a chance," Finn said. "But I don't think it'll make a damn bit of difference."

She said nothing. Rill's sudden departure had visibly shaken the slaves and she could feel the absence he left behind. He was the closest they had to a leader, and whether or not the priest felt he could actually protect them by creating a diversion she wondered if it didn't do more harm than good. But there was nothing to be done except move on.

Anna hardly saw where they headed anymore. She shied away from the doors they passed but thankfully they all stayed closed. Perhaps Rill's diversion had in fact helped them evade the guards. Escape seemed too much to contemplate though and she felt too numb for true hope.

.....

Ahead of them she heard Yeslick let out a surprisingly hearty laugh.

"See! What'd I tell you? They think we're trying for the surface by the main passage!" He pointed out another sealed door, pausing long enough to stick his short fingers up in a rude gesture. "We're gonna make it, you bastards!"

He continued swearing cheerfully at invisible enemies until Kivan interrupted him.

"We have not escaped yet, little father. You should save your celebrations for the surface."

"I ain't your dad, boy," Yeslick replied glibly. "I were, you'd have hair on your chin like a proper man!"

Kivan shook his head like one wearied of infinite patience, but elf and dwarf halted at Jaheira's quiet command. Slaves occasionally collapsed as they hurried along from injury or pure weakness. Jaheira tended to the fallen man and Anna leaned against the rock wall, anxious to move but glad for a rest.

Finn gave her arm a squeeze and left to see Imoen. The girl had managed to pick up only bruises in the ambush, and Anna thought of the possibility that it might be down to Ajantis' protective shield. She watched the knight standing at attention by her side and wondered idly if Imoen hadn't found a protector, after all. She was relieved that someone was watching over the girl, but it roused her interest that Ajantis should have suddenly taken it upon himself to guard her.

.....

Anna shut her eyes and ran her hands slowly over her hair, trying to massage away the headache that had been building since they entered the mines. Her injured hand was still numb and she wiggled her fingers against the faint pins and needles that prickled under her skin. It was a small price to pay for disarming the trap but she hoped it would wear off soon. Finn's supernatural healing was potent though and despite the burns there didn't seem to be much scarring. She was thankful for that, at least.

Opening her eyes she started noticing that Xan had slid up from the rear and was standing nearby. The elf regarded her closely, his eyes resting on her hands. Quickly she folded them in her robe sleeves and turned her gaze to the floor.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked.

"Fine, thank you. And you?"

Her reply was slightly hard-pitched and she kept her eyes on the hem of his robe.

"Not well, but that is to be expected," he said.

Anna nodded but remained silent, wishing the elf would stand somewhere else.

"It is good you managed to dispel that trap, however risky it was. But it must have been incredibly painful," he continued.

"It was."

"The energy it contained, flowing into you. It would have been unbearable."

"Yes," she answered shortly.

"People have endured terrible burns from such things."

"They have."

"And yet...you have not?"

His words didn't truly sound like a question. Anna's eyes shot up at him.

"No."

She turned away from the elf, little imagining Xan believed her. It was all she could say; she couldn't lie, even on the slight chance whatever excuse she could conjure would fool him. He knew painfully well they had no potions of healing. There was nothing she could say. She left him without another word and went to Finn.

......

Anna groaned in misery as the party halted again not long afterwards. It was a maze after all, they would never get out. But then she heard Yeslick cry out and looked on in disbelief as a door appeared from the solid rock of the hall. She blinked her eyes hard to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep on her feet, but it was true. She felt near to collapsing with relief; somehow, against every possible chance they had finally reached the hidden door.

"Right, you lot, up to the surface!" Yeslick proclaimed, ushering past the slaves who needed no encouragement. "When you get to the end, knock three times. It'll open for ye, easy as that!"

"Head north through the trees, following the cliffs," Ajantis added. "Your comrades are waiting for you there."

Kiri stumbled up to the dwarf, looking at him like a haunted woman. She'd been injured in the attack but it seemed to make little difference to her battered shell—she had one focus, and one focus only.

"Jerrin," she spoke, her voice dry.

"I'll find him," Yeslick replied. "Moradin help me, if it takes me to my last breath I'll find him. You go on, and wait for him."

The woman seized his arm, sinking her yellowed nails into his tunic. The dwarf touched her on the shoulder and she slowly released him, drifting away up the passage.

The remaining slaves hurried past but Yeslick grabbed the last slave by the arm , making the man look at him nervously.

"One last thing, pally, and listen good. When you get up there, jam the door open before it shuts. Otherwise it'll seal back up and we won't be able to get it open again for ages."

"How?" the man stammered.

"What do you mean, how? It's a door, ain't it? Use a rock or summat, there's plenty to chose from. Now go on, and don't forget!"

He released the man and he hurried up the ramp with a nod.

.....

"Oh, thank the gods!" Imoen exclaimed, wiping sweat off her brow. Her face was pale and even her freckles looked lighter. "Come on, I don't want to spend another minute in here!"

"Yeah, you go on, Im," Finn said quietly. "We'll meet you up top."

Imoen started up the ramp but suddenly paused.

"What, you're not coming? You can't want to stay down here," she said, looking at him in shock.

"Of course I don't. But—there's something else we need to do."

Imoen stared at him, regarding her brother's serious face. Her own cheeks began to look red and her eyes snapped blue fire.

_"No! _This is stupid, Finn. You'll just get killed down there. Come on."

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I can't."

"But we're here now! This is the way out. Come on, forget about this, will you?"

"I can't," Finn repeated.

Imoen trembled angrily.

"And what am I supposed to do, huh? You go and get yourself killed, what about me? Do you ever think about me? You don't!"

"What the hells does that mean?" he said defensively.

"It means just what it's supposed to mean!" Imoen shouted back. "You don't care. You'd leave me alone out here just because you want to chase down these ghosts that killed Gorion. You'd get us all killed for that! There's nothing here, Finn, accept it. We've done everything we can."

"I don't—" Finn said, shaking his head at her sudden outburst. "Gorion was my _father! _Am I just supposed to forget about it? And you were the one that followed me, remember?" His face grew angry. "You aren't even supposed to bloody be here! You were the one who was always going on about being an adventurer. You always talked about how fun it would be. Well, this is what they do—get killed in shiteholes for nothing. Go home if you can't take it. I should've sent you home ages ago, anyway."

Finn glared at her and Imoen's face turned a strange colour. Anna couldn't tell if she was about to scream or cry; she looked sick and shamed, like a beaten dog.

"Finn, don't say that. You know you don't mean it. Stop now, or you..." Anna began, then broke off.

She couldn't bring herself to say that it might be the last words the pair spoke to each other. Finn still looked like bursting, but he seemed to deflate slightly as if he took her meaning.

"Yeah. Imoen, I didn't—"

"Enough of this," Jaheira interrupted. "Imoen, you may leave if you wish. Perhaps it would be for the best. But whatever Finn has told you of our purpose here, there are other slaves in the mines that we must attempt to aid. That is our duty we must attend."

Imoen stared at them, that strange look still on her face.

"I'm not going," she said, her voice sounding oddly distant. "If you're staying, then I am too."

"Don't be stupid, Im—" Finn began.

"I'm not stupid, don't call me that. I can help, and I'm going to help," she replied.

"The slaves may require assistance, Imoen," Ajantis spoke. "We cannot spare any warriors, but you may guide them. It would be an important duty."

"No, you're not getting rid of me that way again," she replied, a bit of her old fire returning. "I'm coming. Just forget I said anything, alright? I'm not scared."

"Imoen," Finn groaned.

"I said I'm not scared. I'm coming."

Her voice was firm though her eyes looked wet. Finn grumbled something before impulsively grabbing the girl in a tight hug.

_"Ow," _Imoen said, her words muffled by his armour.

"Sorry, flower," Finn replied, giving her a quick kiss on the head before ruffling her hair. "You know I could never even manage to keep my bootlaces tied without you there telling me what to do."

Imoen looked annoyed though she smiled slightly brushing her hair back into place. Jaheira looked at them and sighed.

"Very well. Yeslick, do you believe you can get us to these kitchens in a way that has a reasonable chance of keeping us alive?"

"I think so," the dwarf replied.

"You think?" Khalid said. "That isn't v-very comforting."

"I know so," Yeslick said, sparking a little. "Everybody ready? Let's move out."

.......

He sealed the door in the hall and darted off. With various responses the party followed suit, but Finn took Anna's arm.

"You don't have to come, either, you know."

"Well—it's like she said. If you're going, then I am too," she said quietly.

Anna gave him a little smile and he kissed her swiftly before they hurried after the others. It was true, but she couldn't tell him just how much it took for her not to follow the slaves up and out the door. It went against every last instinct of survival, but then perhaps Finn was right. This was what adventurers did, and she needed to deal with that somehow or she would entirely lose her head in that place.

Yeslick turned down more eerily empty passages before finally leading them into a long, narrow hall. Mingled in with the mine's cool air Anna began to smell the distinctive odour of cooking and her stomach growled alarmingly loud. When was the last she ate? She couldn't remember, but perhaps that was for the best.

The dwarf paused, feeling his way along a stone wall. After muttering to himself for a few moments he touched a small stone and the wall creaked away, swinging aside easily as a door of wood. Light and heat flowed in through the gap and Anna heard voices.

The small kitchen was remarkably hot, lit by two large fireplaces on opposite walls. Big kettles bubbled over the flames and a number of hares decorated a spit, their dripping juices sending little sparks spitting up where they hit the embers. The sudden smell and damp heat were overpowering but Anna ignored them, focusing instead on the shocked cooks who paused in their work like statues as the group stepped through the wall.

Anna expected them to scream, but they didn't. A young woman in a dirty leather apron slid back against a table, and two men looked up from the chairs where they peeled vegetables. A large matron turned from a kettle and glared at them, her eyes like narrow slits in her puffy red face.

"What's all this, then?" she asked, sounding more like she was berating a butcher's boy who brought lamb instead of beef rather than a heavily-armed group. "We don't do handouts. You want something to eat, you'll have to wait same as everyone. And there's no point in getting all high-and-mighty about it, them's orders from the top."

She directed her glares in particular at the two guards, and one of them spoke.

"We're not here for food. You not think it a bit funny we came in through your back wall? We're here to tell you to get out."

"Out?" the cook huffed. "Out of me own kitchen? Who ordered that, now?"

"Here," one of the man-cooks stammered, "You don't mean—look, it wasn't our fault about that pork! We said it'd gone off, but nobody—"

"Oh, no," the matron replied, her own mood suddenly failing. "I'm telling you now, I ain't going without a fight. I'll be damned if you're hauling me off like some little gutter snipe!"

She grabbed a carving knife and held it threateningly up towards them, her fat, chapped arm shaking with nerves. Jaheira stared in amazement but quickly spoke.

"No, good woman. You misunderstand. We are not here to harm you, we are here to liberate this mine. You must gather all the servants and slaves you can find and tell them to find the surface."

"You're having a laugh!" the young woman exclaimed.

"Do we look like a troupe of jesters?" Finn said, and the woman looked away nervously. "We've already gotten the slaves that were in the pits out, you need to follow them."

"How are we supposed to do that?" another cook said. "The surface is guarded, they won't just let us out for some air. "

"Are—are you going to fight?" the young woman asked, sounding rather excited at the prospect. "We could bar ourselves in here. It'd be safer than anywhere."

The other cooks agreed but Yeslick interrupted them.

"No, you can't stay. We're gonna flood this place, put it out of commission once and for all. You need to get out or you'll be dead."

"We _may _flood the mines," Jaheira replied. "How many servants are in this place? Would you be able to reach them all?"

"There's not too many," the matron replied. "They keep us humping on our feet all bleedin' day for want of help—most of the poor wretches go down below. There's us here, some maids and a few others what do odd jobs. I suppose we could find 'em if need be. But Davy's right, they'd never let us out of here."

"What of a boy?" Ajantis asked. "A young boy named Jerrin. His mother said he worked here."

The cook shook her head. "There's no lad by that name that I knows of. No young lads working up here at all."

Yeslick started, his mouth falling open slightly.

"You sure?"

"We're not too many, like I said. If there were a lad I'd know about it. Why?"

"Nothing. It don't matter, I reckon. Rill, you bastard, why do you say shite like that?"

The dwarf tugged at his beard, looking down at the floor. Anna almost thought his eyes looked wet. Ajantis rested a hand on his shoulder, but Yeslick shrugged him off.

....

"Well. Got to move on. This cursed place is gonna be underwater before long, if I have anything to say about it. You go find the others, now, and tell 'em to get out anyway ye can."

"But _how—_" a cook began.

"How the fook should I know?" Yeslick roared in response, making the man jump. "You think I can fix everything, aye?"

The turncoat guards had remained mostly silent since the slaves nearly attacked them, but one drew a breath and spoke.

"We can help them."

"You?" Yeslick growled.

"Easy, all right? We know the passwords, we know what to say. There's even some guards that might be willing to give us a hand. We could do it."

"And what reason would we have to trust your word?" Kivan said, giving the man a dark look. "You are slavers and traitors even to your own kind. Your word means less than that of a snake."

The guard glared back. "Like I said, we're not all monsters here. Believe that or don't. Besides, by the sounds of things you don't have much of a choice."

"As much as I hate to admit it, he is likely correct," Jaheira said slowly. "Very well, do what you must. But know this—if I find that you have betrayed these people I shall do all in my power to hunt you down, in this plane or any other. Do I make myself clear?"

She gave them that iron-cold stare. The guards looked sour but nodded.

"One other thing," Finn asked the cooks, "Have you noticed anything odd going on today?"

"Other than you lot stepping through me wall?" the matron remarked. "Can't say as I have. It's all been the usual slog."

"No fights, no alarms?" Finn repeated, ignoring her tone.

"You hear any? No, there's been nothing. Why you ask?"

"Never mind," Finn sighed. "It's probably best if you don't think on it much."

"Well, if we're moving on we'd better go," Yeslick said, wiping his eyes. "Get these folks out of here. You've got some time, but not a lot of it."

"Where are you headed?" the cook asked.

"Up a level. Who's here from the Iron Throne, missus? We need to know the master of the mines."

"They don't tell us that," the cook whistled. "We don't hardly see anything of them, we just do the cooking."

"Right, right. Well, good luck to ye. See you up top, if we're so fortunate. And if you see a daft priest wandering around, kick him up the backside for me!"

He turned and left the puzzled cook looking after him as he ducked back through the wall. The rest of the party followed, but Anna turned back once to the guards. She had little true hope they wouldn't betray them all, but as the guard said they had little choice. They could not find the master of the mines and free the other servants; they stood little chance of not being overwhelmed as it was.

......

Yeslick led them up another of the sloping ramps the dwarves seemed to prefer over stairs; by the impressions that centuries of cartwheels had left in the stone Anna reckoned their practicality ruled over all other considerations. Mounting the ramp they came upon a wider set of passages that went in three separate directions.

"This way," Yeslick said, moving ahead.

_"Tampa," _Kivan suddenly said, grabbing his shoulder. "Beasts await us down that passage."

"How do you know?"

"I can smell their foul hides," the elf said, his nostrils curling in disgust. "There must be a great many for the scent to be so strong."

"Not much to do about it," Finn said, clutching at his sword. "We'll have to take them out."

"No, we can go another way," Yeslick replied. "Come on."

Yeslick started up the right passage instead, but soon let out another barrage of curses as they found it blocked.

"Sons of bitches! They know how to pick 'em, don't they? Why'd they even think we'd go down here?"

"Back to the h-hobgoblins?" Khalid panted.

"We'll leave that to last," Yeslick decided. "We can get around 'em, but we'll have to take the long way."

"They path they wish us to take, no doubt," Xan groaned quietly as he followed after the dwarf. Anna found herself agreeing but said nothing.

......

The hall stayed empty however and she strangely found herself detecting the smell of food once again.

"Are we nearing more kitchens?" she asked Yeslick.

"No, these are just living quarters now. I can smell it too, but damn! Roast beef and rabbit, if my old nose is any good."

"Where there is food there may be people," Ajantis remarked. "Be wary."

Kivan stopped them and they waited nervously in the hall as he slipped silently forwards, examining a closed wooden door. He listened for what seemed a long time, then peeked cautiously through the keyhole.

"I see no one, the room is empty."

With care they drew open the door. The chamber was indeed empty but its contents gave them pause. A long table nearly filled the room, the red and gold brocade cloth covered with an abundance of food that Anna had not seen in some time. Roasted meats, elaborate vegetable dishes, baskets of bread, and towers of fruit filled every possible place. Despite the table's size Anna noted that only a few places were laid, awaiting the missing diners.

"Oh, wow," Imoen said under her breath.

"S-still warm," Khalid reported quietly, holding a hand over a well-dressed rabbit. "Whoever th-this was laid for cannot b-be far."

Imoen reached gingerly for some fruit but Xan caught her hand.

"Don't," the elf said.

"Why? They won't miss it, I'll take it from the bottom there. I'm starving!"

"The same 'they' that have been guiding our steps since we left the pits? I wonder who this feast was intended for."

"What, you think—" Imoen said, then quickly drew back her hand.

"Indeed. Touch nothing," Jaheira replied.

"Can't believe they eat like this when we get gruel once a day, if we're lucky," Yeslick said.

He glanced over the table with the gaze of a wolf, and for the first time Anna noted how shrunken and baggy his eyes were.

They slid out the opposite door into an area that seemed entirely at odds with the rest of the mine. It was furnished more like a comfortable country house than an underground lair—polished furniture of dark wood, bright woollen carpets and tapestries decorated the place. The Iron Throne's lieutenants certainly enjoyed their luxury, Anna thought.

......

As they neared an open door though Anna heard a distinctive _thump _coming from inside; strangely it sounded like books being repeatedly dropped. They paused, tensing, and Kivan slid up to the entrance with bow at ready.

_"Oh, gods!" _Anna heard a woman's voice cry from within. _"Don't shoot!"_

She followed the others up and peered into the room. A frightened young woman stood in what looked like a small library, her hands raised above her head as she stared into Kivan's bow. Despite her fear she was attractive and bright-looking, with sleek brown hair pulled back into a heavy knot and a fine mage's robe of cobalt blue.

"Don't! Spare me, please," she repeated.

"Who are you?" Jaheira demanded.

"I'm—I'm Natasha Caelavan," the woman stammered. "I won't fight you. _Please."_

She implored them earnestly and Kivan's bow lowered slightly. Jaheira however held up her hand.

"So you say, but we have little reason to believe you. What do you do here?"

"I'm a mage working for the Iron Throne. I just arrived here this past tenday, but I had no idea of what awaited me."

"Indeed," Jaheira said. "Go on."

"I was recruited from Baldur's Gate," the young woman continued. "They said they wanted someone of arcane skill to be based in their camp in the country. I thought it sounded pleasant, and the coin offered for someone who had just completed their journeyship was remarkable. But I knew nothing of this mine, of—of the slavery. It is horrible here. Are you—are you here to free the slaves? Or are you just adventurers?"

She spoke intently, almost tripping over her words while regarding them with bright blue eyes.

"We have come for the slaves," Jaheira said, her own gaze not softening.

"Oh, I'm so glad," Natasha said, smiling a little. "I will help you, if you like. I know a great deal about this mine."

"Well, so do we," Finn said, responding to her smile. "But I'm sure we could use a hand."

His eyes sparkled at her and the woman looked surprised, but demurely lowered her gaze to the floor. A small smile curled up out of the corner of her mouth though and Anna looked at Finn rather archly.

"Yes," Jaheira said flatly. "Tell us though, who is the master of this mine?"

"The Iron Throne master? Oh, it's a man named Stephan. Stephan Mellis. He's a warrior, but a bit of a lout. He shouldn't trouble you at all."

"Stephan Mellis? Never heard of him," Yeslick remarked.

"Oh, well—he's new," Natasha said. "Rieltar Anchev appointed him himself, someone he knew from Sembia."

"And is he a handsome man?" Xan asked unexpectedly.

"P-pardon me?" Natasha said, clearly taken off guard by the question.

"You call him a lout, yet mentioning him makes your heart beat rather quickly, I see."

He nodded at her silently. The woman ran a hand over her bare throat and stared at the elf for a moment, but turned away from his level gaze.

"He isn't handsome. He—" she broke off, then looked up again. "He keeps coming to my room at night. I tell him to leave me be, but...it's only a matter of time. I don't want to talk about him."

She clutched her arms together and looked away again.

"So there is fear in you," Xan replied. "I apologise, but I needed to gauge your reactions."

"What do you think?" Finn asked Jaheira.

"Bring her with us," the druid sighed. "But I warn you, we shall be observing you closely."

"Don't worry, I just want out of this place," Natasha said. "Just let me grab my wand, we'll need it."

She fished a spindly, unimpressive-looking piece of wood from a chest and held it up for their inspection.

"This summons guardians. It was a present, and I thought I might need it in the forests," she explained.

"Whatever you say," Jaheira replied. "Lead on then."

......

The woman departed up the passage, with Yeslick and Kivan close at hand. Anna watched her walking along, her step light in spite of their situation. She was quite young, not much older than Imoen. In some ways she rather reminded her of herself at that age—she possessed that same bright earnestness that she'd once had in abundance. Anna wondered to herself how that woman ended up in such a place, but perhaps she would have fallen into a bad situation as well if her father hadn't been there to guide her.

"We need to be careful," Natasha said. "The next room is trapped. Just step where I step though, and you'll make it around."

She opened a door to a large room with a floor almost entirely covered by a strangely-patterned carpet. Natasha gingerly followed a winding woven vine, turning this way and that. The others spread out snake-like as they stepped carefully after her, looking rather like children playing a game of follow-the-leader. When they all reached the opposite side Natasha pulled gently on a small wall carving and Anna heard a click.

"That disarms it. It'll be safe to go back now," she said.

She went to open the next door, but Yeslick grabbed her arm.

"You sure, pet?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, of course," Natasha said with a laugh. "I live here, remember?"

"And so do I. But yer not a dwarf, are ye?"

"No," the mage said, regarding him strangely.

"And as such, I reckon you can't feel that vibrating that's going on below our feet, eh?"

"What—"

"It came up after you pulled that switch. Now to me, vibrating means an engine, or an energy of some sort. Just the sort that might power a trap or some such. What do you think?"

"Well...I can turn it off," Natasha said vaguely.

She reached for the switch but Finn grabbed her hand.

"That's all right, I'm sure we can manage."

"Let go of me," she said angrily, pulling her hand away.

She slid back away from them, staying close to the wall.

"Don't be stupid, pet," Yeslick said. "You don't want to work with them."

"And do you think I'd want to work with you?" Natasha said, a nervous laugh slipping out.

"Yeah, I do, cause I don't think you want to get hurt," Finn replied. "Come on. We don't want to hurt you, but you've got to give it up. What've they got planned?"

He made a step towards her, careful to stay close to the wall. Natasha drew back again, this time holding the wand up.

_"Don't _come any closer. I'm not about to join your side. Some people understand loyalty. You just—get away from me."

"What are you going to do?" Finn said, sounding strangely calm. "Look at us. We've got two mages here and a priest. You wouldn't stand a chance. Come on."

He reached out a hand to her but Natasha crouched back against the wall. Her young face looked hunted and frightened, but Anna saw an anger there as well. She knew that woman wouldn't surrender to them. She was about to speak when Natasha swiftly raised the wand.

From a haze a pair of large black bears appeared onto the carpet. They turned and snarled at the party but before they could move Anna heard a triggering noise and a number of swift blurs shot out from the walls, penetrating even those animals' thick hides. The bears let out horrid cries and slumped to the floor, twitching. The party shouted and Natasha took her chance, fleeing as swiftly as she could while hugging the wall.

Instinctively Anna raised her hands and spoke, sending an enchanted bolt into the woman. She cried out in pain and stumbled slightly. Her feet strayed barely an inch onto the carpet, but it was enough.

In horror Anna watched as the trap triggered again, piercing the woman with the vicious darts. She screamed and tripped onto the carpet, sending even more darts into her skin. She walked drunkenly for a moment, remaining on her feet almost by force of will despite the dozen or more black spikes clinging to her stained robe. She spoke a name but collapsed to the floor, where her body lay convulsing. Anna had to turn away from the sick, terrified look on her foaming mouth. At last Natasha shuddered and went still, her glazed eyes still open.

"Oh, Chauntea," Anna whispered, staring at the woman.

"You couldn't help it," Finn said grimly. "She was setting us up."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders but Anna couldn't drive away the shaking feeling in her stomach.

"Yes, come, and let us find out what this woman had in store for us," Jaheira replied. She reached up and replaced the switch. "Yeslick?"

"It's off," he replied with a sigh.

They ventured away into another hall, leaving the young woman's body behind them.

......

Yeslick ignored the side-passages and moved them straight ahead till they passed under an archway, into a large room that appeared to be an armoury. There were racks of swords and other weapons and heavy shields decorated the walls. Full suits of plate armour stood at ready in the corners, clutching at swords. Anna glanced at them quickly; she knew little of arms but their blackish sheen spoke of magic.

"You could fit out an army in this place," Finn commented.

"Indeed," Ajantis replied. "And it makes one wonder how well-armed these bandits are if they can afford to leave these as spare."

"I would prefer not to find out," Xan said. "Jaheira, do you not think it best if we would see to our protections? Whatever is awaiting us cannot be far."

"Yes, a good idea," the druid said, examining some flails without touching them. "Do what you must, and I shall pray for Silvanus' blessing."

"Do you have any invisibility spells left?" Xan asked Anna.

"No. I have little that would help us now, most of the battle spells I know are meant for attack," she said.

Xan frowned but cast a spell that Anna recognised as a protection against silence.

"You should endeavour to acquire more, if we should ever escape this maddening place. A defence is just as important—wait, did that just move?"

The elf broke off quickly, attracted to something in the corner of his sight. Anna followed his gaze and jumped back—the suits of armour were not empty. In silence the warriors advanced on the party, strangely stiff of limb but with obvious intent.

"I think you're a bit outnumbered, mate!" Finn cried.

He drew his sword and moved in to attack but suddenly fell back with another cry, one of fear.

_"Gods, get it away from me!" _he shouted.

Anna stared in shock as Finn ran towards the door, but he found his escape blocked by more of the strange warriors. He looked up again, and ran back to the other wall like a mad hare caught between hounds.

Before she could think Khalid cried out in the melee, dropping his sword and nearly running into one of the armed warriors. It swung at him, grazing against his armour and knocking him to the floor.

_"Khalid!" _Jaheira cried.

Boldly she threw herself between the warrior's blow and her husband, crying out in agony as the impossibly heavy sword-stroke shattered her shield. She looked up at the warrior, and let out gut-curling scream.

"By Helm, what madness is this?" Ajantis panted, drawing up from behind to draw the warrior's attack.

The warrior whirled on him, barely even stunned by the strong knight's blow. The warrior drove his sword at him in return but the knight deftly parried the thrust, swirling and blocking the blow with his shield before driving another strike into a vulnerable spot.

"They are constructs—Battle Horrors!" Xan exclaimed. "Do not look them in the eyes."

Anna fired a missile into one, hoping it might have some effect. The construct stumbled but somehow Anna found her gaze attracted to the two ember-red points deep within the creature's visor. A sudden panic welled within, every terror that she could think of collected in its hollow stare. A cold sweat poured over her and she screamed.

She turned to run but the iron grip faded as quickly as it had seized her. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she felt normal again. She wondered but caught a glance of Xan lowering his arms from spellcasting.

......

The others seemed to lose their fear as well and with an effort they managed to turn the constructs into broken piles of armour.

"Nice trick," Finn said, giving an empty helmet a kick. "If this lot didn't finish us off we'd have run panicking straight into that girl's trap."

"No doubt. Pisses me off even more that they resort to using kids," Yeslick said, running his thumb along a newly-acquired battleaxe.

"I grow weary of these cowardly cat-and-mouse games," Ajantis muttered as he saw to Jaheira's injured arm. "Let whoever is here face us like a man and be done with it! Brace yourself, my lady, this will hurt."

The druid gritted her teeth against the dull sound of her bones being set back into place.

"Thank you," she panted, her tanned skin turned white. "I shall—call for blessings now."

After their injuries had been healed with as much as druid and paladin could spare they strove on again. Anna drew deep breaths, trying to bring up courage from somewhere. How many more little traps awaited them? Whoever had set up their path was leading them towards something in a maze of his own divining. It was a game, it was all a game.

......

The next room seemed darker than the others, lit only by a fireplace. It too seemed empty, the furnishings and bookcases standing in place of occupants. Yeslick pointed slowly towards the far wall.

"It's the gate."

Set into the smooth stone a massive round door dominated the room, crafted of a silvery metal that shone faintly in the firelight. A number of heavy bolts locked it into the stone, keeping back the force of tonnes of water. Runes were etched around its circumference and strangely near to the floor stood what looked like a small keyhole. Before Anna had time to wonder where the keymaster might be, a quiet voice spoke.

"And so you have made it through. You were fortunate that I am quite bored today. These guards needed a little entertainment to keep them on their toes. But so determined you are, to find your way here, to interrupt my work...I wonder why."

A tall man rose up languidly from a chair before the fireplace. He gestured and the lights rose, the torches on the walls suddenly bursting into flame. Anna blinked in the light but regarded the man cautiously.

A wizard. He was plainly a wizard, and she would have known that even if he hadn't casted a spell. An aura of heavy magic hung around him like smoke, drifting invisibly into the air. Long curls of grizzled hair surrounded his face, hanging down over his rich brown robes. He looked at them with disinterest, his thin, elderly face showing no signs of fear or agitation.

.....

"Oh..._smeg_," Yeslick muttered, staring at the man. "It had to be you, didn't it?"

"Ah, it is the diminutive smith," the man replied. "I take it you have been leading these people? Naught but one with keen knowledge of this place could have avoided my little traps so well. But why come here? I was told you'd escaped."

"We've come for the key, Davaeorn. Spare yourself the trouble and give it up," Yeslick said, obviously trying to rally himself.

_"Davaeorn?" _

Jaheira spoke the name strangely, her gaze turning from iron to wonder.

"You know him? Who's he?" Finn asked quickly.

"Yes...you know me? It is obvious you do," the man said in his silvery voice, still unconcerned at the prospect. "Have you heard my name whispered in the halls of wisdom?"

"N-not quite," Khalid remarked, his own eyes narrowing at the man. "Do you not know wh-what we are?"

"What you are..." Davaeorn said.

He looked at the group as though for the first time, trying to work out the little puzzle laid at his feet. But when he examined Khalid and Jaheira his expression noticeably changed.

_"Harpers." _He spoke the word like he was spitting out poison. "You dare—you have come here? To my study, to my home? You violated everything, and you dare to come here?"

"Who the hells is this guy?" Finn repeated, wary of the wizard's growing agitation.

Before the half-elves could speak the wizard cried out again.

"Who am I? He asks, who am I? No one. I am no one. I once was many things, but now I am none."

"We are not here because of you, Davaeorn," Jaheira said. "We have come to free the slaves in this place. We have come to put an end to the Iron Throne and the evils they have perpetrated in this region. And you would serve them? I thought it impossible that I should be more sickened, but I was wrong."

"Evils? You speak of _evils? _You who enact them every day? Your callous indifference—and you dare to speak of _my _evil?" the wizard challenged.

"You m-murdered three Harpers!" Khalid replied. "You killed your own k-kindred!"

"He's a Harper?" Finn spoke again, trying to make some sense of the strange turn.

_"Was_ a Harper. I once had their foul tentacles around my heart, and I served them with all my will. But that changed when they betrayed the coldness of their own hearts."

"It was a tragedy, Davaeorn, but it did not excuse—" Jaheira began.

"Tragedy? An acceptable loss?" the wizard bellowed. "You cannot know. You cannot know what it was like—"

"Can I not?" the druid interrupted, her tone strange.

......

The others stood back, mesmerised by the bizarre exchange between wizard and Harpers. In his vibrating rage the wizard barely seemed to notice the presence of anyone else in the room.

"No. You were not there. Look, look here and see!"

He threw a small amount of dust into the air. Anna jumped back slightly but paused, regarding the form that took shape from the mist. A young woman stood floating before them, her soft features framed by the golden powder. She stared into the air with a neutral expression.

"My Bellane," the wizard said, his voice quivering with emotion. "So beautiful she was. So bright. I was so proud when she joined the Harpers, that my only child should join me in my life's work. But they sent her on a mission disguised as a maid in a festhall...I only learned of it after they brought her cold body home! Her face...it was so cold. I remember. They used her—they let thugs use her as a toy before they slit her throat! The Harpers offered me _compensation. _Foul gold, for the loss of my child? My only light? I killed the ones that sent her there, I cared not!"

Davaeorn gestured angrily, his hands running through the illusion and sending it drifting to the floor. He reached at the girl as she faded, a low cry of despair in his throat.

"That never should have been allowed, it was a grave error. I know the Harpers shared your loss—how many of us have lost loved ones to our cause? But that did not excuse your revenge," Jaheira said angrily.

"Revenge?" Davaeorn said strangely, laughing slightly. "No. That was only a punitive measure, not my revenge. I planned, I waited...and now, finally I have felt it in my grasp."

"What do you mean?" Khalid said.

"The children. I found them, the Harpers' children. They were hidden so well, but I found them. And I used the Harpers' own blood money to pay thugs to slit their throats."

......

Davaeorn laughed to himself, but the others looked stunned.

"You—you had Gorion killed?" Finn said, staring at the man in disbelief.

"Gorion—there is a name I remember. Are you his? Are you one of the children?" the wizard twittered.

"Be careful, Finn, he is mad—" Jaheira said quickly.

"I am Gorion's ward," Finn said, ignoring her. "You had him killed. You killed my father just to get to me!"

"Yes, young one," Davaeorn replied, his eyes lit by a cold fire. "I know of you, child of Gorion. Your name keeps tickling my ears. Many have died for you, have they not? And more still, it does not end."

He gestured casually towards a side table. Amongst the usual array of books and other paraphernalia Anna's eyes rested on a silver tray. She stared at it, trying to process the horror that rested there.

Though his face was pale his expression seemed frozen in that happy, quiet smile the priest wore, almost as though he'd been laughing at his executioners. A slight trickle of blood dribbled down his open mouth, but that was the only sign of violence visible on the severed head.

"Rill." Yeslick said, his voice dry. He stared at the priest's head, licking his lips over and over. "You—you killed Rill? You son of a bitch, you killed _Rill?"_

His tone rose to that hammering pitch only dwarves could call forth and he gripped tightly at his axe.

"Yes, little fellow. He was mine, I can kill him if I wish," Davaeorn said. "And now, for you."

......

The wizard gestured and a door swung open. Anna heard men's voices within, she could see the flash of their weapons. She whirled to the door, calling for the Weave to do her bidding. An orb of fire appeared before her and she sent it flying into the room over the heads of the men as they pushed their way out to attack. It exploded, sending flames gushing out with the horrid cries of the burned and dying.

_"You bastard!" _Yeslick screamed.

The dwarf charged directly at the wizard, raising his axe and swinging it down to chop him away at his knees. Davaeorn's wards triggered though and Yeslick was blown back, hurtling through the room like an enraged missile.

Despite her fireball guards still filled the room and began grappling with the party. Anna slid back against a wall, hoping to avoid the flashing swords. But she noticed a faint rippling nearby, the air moving like water. Without thinking she struck her staff against that ripple and heard a man's voice groan.

A young wizard appeared from the mist and stumbled against the wall, clutching at his abdomen. They locked eyes for a moment, oblivious to the din around them. He didn't seem much older than Natasha—his face was bland and soft like many noblemen's, lacking in great character. Anna fired a missile at him and he fell further back.

"Stop, _ow!" _he cried, clinging to his burns. "Master, help me!"

"Idiot!" Davaeorn replied, easily driving away one of Kivan's arrows. "You should have gone, Stephan, not Natasha. Kill the woman, if you are worth anything to me!"

Anna did not wait for Stephan's response. Grabbing her staff with both hands she drove its end down onto his chest, cracking his sternum with an ugly noise. Stephan wheezed, and she struck again.

_"Die!" _she screamed wildly, not caring that the young man had likely already fulfilled her command. The battle and madness of the mines whirled around her and she struck him several more times before she forced herself to cease.

Davaeorn disappeared from his place, vanishing in a flash of light. Suddenly from the far wall a bolt of electricity shot out, striking Anna before ricocheting around the room, hitting the party and guards alike.

......

Anna's brain felt on fire and she collapsed, her limbs twitching involuntarily. She could not speak nor even form proper thoughts. Images flashed into her mind and that was all.

She saw a wizard standing over her, a field of magic surrounding him. He raised his hand and it began to glow. Suddenly another force hit him though, and the field disintegrated before her eyes.

"It doesn't matter," he said to the air. "You are dead! You will never get out—"

A terrible hammering noise filled Anna's ears and she realised it was an alarm ringing. The wizard began to speak again but a small blur charged from nowhere, bringing down a silver streak. Davaeorn screamed and Anna looked on, trying to understand how he had split in two. But her eyes cleared slightly and she saw Yeslick standing over his shattered body, his axe held high.

_"For Rill!" _he screamed, bringing it down over the wizard's neck. _"For Jerrin! For Mikan! For all of us, you sick bastard!"_

With each name he struck again, slicing away the man's limbs. Anna stared blankly as the blood splattered against her, trying to move. Yeslick suddenly drew further away, but she realised that someone had grabbed her and pulled her back.

"Anna. Are you all right?"

She looked up to see Finn. Blood trickled down his face but he was alive. He ran his hand over her skin and she felt her head clearing.

......

"We need to run," Jaheira said, pulling herself away from the wall where she'd been resting for breath. "Blast these alarms, can we silence them?"

"No. They're coming," Yeslick said.

He'd dropped the bloody axe and stood looking at the mangled corpse of the wizard, no longer recognisable as a man.

"Let's—get out of here then." Finn likewise stared at the wizard, doubtlessly trying to comprehend his mad revelation. "Can we make it to the back door?"

"Yeah, you can. Listen, elf, can you remember how to get back?" Yeslick asked Kivan.

"I can," he replied.

"Good. You get them out, then."

"What do you mean?" Finn asked.

"I'm going to stay here. This job's not done."

He reached into the bloody robes and pulled out a brass key.

"You will never have time to make it to the upper switch," Jaheira said.

Yeslick drew a breath.

"I know."

"What? My good dwarf, surely you do not mean—" Ajantis began.

"That's exactly what I mean. Now beat it, you lot, unless you can grow gills right quick."

Yeslick walked slowly up to the water gate, running his hand over the metal.

.....

"Years back we tapped into this lake," he began. "Didn't mean to, it was a mistake...the kind dwarves aren't supposed to make. The waters came crashing through the mines like the great flood, washing everything away. Nobody stood a chance." His eyes screwed shut in pain but he continued. "I remember me and Dad talking and joking one eve with Uncle Ferrick, near the surface. We'd been out checking the traps, it'd been a good take...then from down deep there was this rumble like thunder, the whole earth shook...Dad hollered at me to run. I was only a lad with nowt but fuzz on my chin and I ran without thinking. Didn't think about me brother, didn't think about me Ma, I just ran. I didn't even realise Dad and Uncle Ferrick weren't behind me till I cleared the entrance. I turned to head back but this mountain of water shoots out the doors, it was like nothing I'd ever seen."

He paused and they all regarded him in silence.

"I found me dad half-drowned when the water finally stopped spraying...Uncle Ferrick we found dead in a tree. Only a handful of us made it out alive. The water never went back down. We couldn't even get to the bodies. We all swore then on what was left of our blood never to speak of our shame to anyone, and we left the mines as a tomb."

"So you say," Kivan began. "But I do not understand why you should wish to forfeit your own life over this ancient shame. Let the mines stay as they are—you are to blame for none of this."

"Ain't I?" Yeslick said, turning around. "Ain't I? I'm to blame. I'm to blame for everything!"

"You aren't—" Jaheira said.

"You don't get it, do you? If I hadn't broken the pact none of this would have happened. If I'd have kept me big gob shut there'd be no slaves, no iron trouble, no bandits, no talk of war. It's me that's done it. I let the Iron Throne take over this place. And I'll be damned—I'm sorry, Dad," he said, breaking off and talking to the air. "I shamed the family, I know."

"That is madness," Xan said. "The villains would have found a way to do harm, with or without you."

"Indeed," Kivan said. "Do not end your life over one slipped word. Your death will not bring back those that have perished."

"I'm sorry," Yeslick said. "But I'm not running again. I'm gonna put this right, the only way I can."

No one spoke. They stared at the dwarf, the tears now obvious on his hairy cheeks. He wandered over to Rill's severed head, caressing him tenderly.

"Looks like it's just you and me, eh, friend? I knew you were trouble the minute I laid eyes on you, you old coot."

"Will you do something?" Imoen exclaimed in a whisper. "He's obviously out of his mind."

"No, lassie," he said. "I've never been in a better mind in my life. Now you lot gonna run, or am I gonna have to take you with me?"

"Let's go," Khalid said, staring at the dwarf with serious eyes.

"Finn?" Anna asked, looking at him.

"Yeslick, mate—" he began.

"Don't you hear the alarms? They're coming for you. You'd better run," Yeslick said, turning once more to the gate.

.....

Finn grabbed Anna's arm and she felt herself being pulled down corridors, running as fast as her weary feet could take her. The halls were empty except for that horrible noise, the battering of the bells that never ceased. Where the guards were she did not know—had they escaped, were they looking somewhere else? Where were the cooks? But her feet never stopped moving even when she felt like she would collapse.

She felt a strange pressure change in her ears, but perhaps it was exhaustion. Bringing up the rear she heard Khalid shout something, but she paid no heed as she saw a sliver of true daylight before her eyes. The door was jammed open, just enough to allow them to slip through.

Anna cried out wearily as the true world became open to her nearly blinded sight—the trees, the air, the sun, they were not dreams after all. She heard an exploding noise though and Finn grabbed her again, dragging the pair of them out of range of a shooting white sheet of water that penetrated the door at their heels. They collapsed together onto the forest floor, watching the deluge surging away.


	52. After the Flood

There seemed no end to the water as it gushed from the entry, throwing the stone door open and drowning the forest as it cascaded down the slope. Finn had managed to pull them clear of the worst but Anna's robe still swam in the currents. She could see Khalid, Jaheira and Imoen clinging to rocks on the opposite side of the door but she couldn't see anyone else. Anna could only pray for their safety as she lay in Finn's grasp, watching the surge pass by.

After a time the volume of water began to lessen. The noise died away and the river became a stream before ending in a light trickle. Anna and Finn slowly dragged their battered bodies up from the ground, clinging to each other for balance. Anna stumbled in her wet clothes as her feet caught in some drowned and muddy bush. Finn cried over to the trio across from them.

_"All right?"_ he managed, still breathless from their mad run.

A hoarse affirmative came back as the three picked their way down the cliff side. The two groups met outside the door and stood looking at each other with dazed expressions. Khalid finally turned and called out into the trees.

_"Hallo!"_

Anna stared at the destruction the flood left behind; rocks were loosened and rolled down the hill, smashing and breaking the smaller trees that showed their pale insides where they had snapped. The trees that managed to survive the missiles leaned drunkenly from the shock of the force. The trunks of the taller trees stood wrapped in grass and other debris several feet off the ground, showing the height of the flood. The branches on one shook as an elf dropped down to the mud.

"Shevarash! I do not wish to ever see that again," Kivan exclaimed. "Where are the others?"

In answer Anna saw a flash of metal appear as Ajantis stepped from the trees, somehow still in possession of his large shield.

"Helm have mercy," he said wearily. "The water struck like a giant's fist. It threw me into a tree and I clung with all my strength, but Xan was swept away. I know not where he is."

The knight collapsed onto the ground and pulled out some grasses that had wedged themselves into his armour. Kivan looked alarmed and called out but before any of them could set off in search a pair of sturdy bushes parted and the enchanter stumbled into view.

.....

In another situation Anna might've been tempted to laugh; Xan had all the appearance and expression of a cat that had slipped from his proud march along a bridge into a pond. He was soaked from head to toe, his once-fine robes covered in muck and debris. He pushed his muddy hair from his eyes and glared at no one in particular.

"A fine looking group, are we not?" he muttered. "Have we all survived, then?"

"Not all," Ajantis replied quietly. "We should say prayers for our fallen comrades."

"I don't understand. Why did Yeslick do that?" Imoen asked. "He hated the Iron Throne enough to kill himself to get them?"

The girl's face was pale and she looked at the others with wide eyes.

"From what we saw he had cause for hatred," Jaheira replied, leaning against a tree and caressing its mucky bark. "I only wish he had not turned it towards himself."

"But he didn't need to do what he did. I can't imagine..." Imoen broke off.

"Behind hatred and revenge often lies guilt," Kivan said slowly. "He blamed himself as much as his tormentors."

Imoen said nothing and looked away from the elf, down at the forest floor.

"Regardless, the t-time to mourn is not now. We must f-find the s-slaves," Khalid said.

"Yes," Jaheira said, rousing herself with a shake. "We must...move on. Kivan, can you find their trail? The sun is turning to the west, and we must recover our gear."

_"Uma," _the ranger said.

......

He squared his jaw and set off into the woods, his black eyes avoiding all but the trees. Anna glanced at Finn and he squeezed her hand; though his face was sombre and exhausted she saw a kind of brightness in his heavy-lidded eyes. They said nothing to each other though as they followed along behind the others.

Somehow Kivan managed to find their packs where they lay still undisturbed under the ferns. Anna felt uniquely glad to feel the plain brown canvas under her fingertips and she plunged her hands in to draw out a feast of bread and dried fruits, choking them down without regard to her appearance. She followed by drinking heartily enough from a wineskin that Jaheira muttered to her to remember to keep her head. Anna coughed from the sharpness of the alcohol and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, starting at the red smear before she could assure her foggy mind that it was not blood.

After a brief rest Jaheira reluctantly called them to their feet. The large group of slaves left a trail easy for even Anna to spot but they had a considerable head start on the group, and as the sun crept lower behind the trees she began to wonder if they would find them that night. In truth she'd almost ceased to care—as the rush of flight and escape faded her utter exhaustion returned to the point she almost fell to the ground more than once. She leaned on Finn as they rambled through the forest but he didn't seem much more stable than her and his legs wobbled from the added weight.

.....

Near sunset they finally found them. The slaves sat huddled in little groups, their eyes still blinking at the alien light of the forest. A few made frightened noises as the party stepped from the trees and Anna heard the sound of drawing swords.

"You made it after all. I'll be damned," a man said.

He sheathed his weapon and Anna recognised him as one of the guards that offered to help the slaves escape.

"We have," Jaheira replied shortly. "Are they all here?"

"Every last one left standing," the guard said. "We told you we'd do it, didn't we?"

As he spoke Anna glanced around the group, noticing several armed men she hadn't seen before. They stood slightly apart from the slaves who looked at them with fear or anger where they drew near.

"Yes, but you can understand why we had trouble accepting your word," the druid remarked.

"Our word's as good as any man's," the guard answered. Jaheira didn't look convinced.

"Still, you got them out. We ought to thank you for that," Finn said. "How'd you manage it?"

"Well...we just told the guards on the door that we were taking this lot out for a little walk."

The man spoke levelly and trained a gob of spit on a rock at his feet.

"A walk?" Imoen piped up. "They really must have been thick to believe that."

The guard's lip curled grimly.

"There's walks and there's walks. I don't reckon they thought we'd all be coming back, did they?"

"Oh," Imoen said. She hugged her arms to her shoulders and said nothing else.

"Are there other guards still alive?" Ajantis asked.

"Probably. Once we cleared the stockade we made tracks fast as we could up this way. We could feel the earth shaking from here, didn't take much to work out what that meant. There could still be patrols out in the forest but I don't think they'd hang around with their wages underwater."

"Likely not, but we must still be on the alert," Jaheira said. "We should set up a watch rota for the night—"

"Where's Jerrin?"

.....

Jaheira paused as a quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. Kiri floated up to them without a sound, her hands folded tightly in front of her. In the reddening light she looked even more gaunt than she had in the mines. The druid's mouth opened but no words came out. Ajantis stepped forward and touched the woman's arm.

"We found no trace of him. I am sorry."

The woman looked down and spoke, her voice oddly level.

"The cooks here, they said they'd never seen him. I said that couldn't be right—Rill said he was in the kitchens. Rill's a priest, he wouldn't lie. He wouldn't lie, I know it."

Ajantis cleared his throat.

"He likely wished to give you strength. He seemed determined to provide that, for all of you."

"And he's not here, either?"

"No."

Kiri kept her gaze on the ground but her body began to shake slightly.

"I know the pain of loss. To feel as though someone has cut out your own heart...but we must continue." The knight's deep voice lost some of its steadiness. "You must trust in the gods that your son is now free from pain, that he is now safe—what god did you revere, my good woman?"

Kiri slowly shook her head.

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" she asked.

"It matters now most of all," Ajantis replied.

"No."

"Rill's not here?" A nearby slave suddenly spoke, forcing the words out as if saying them might make it true.

"He has fallen," Ajantis said. He drew a breath and regained some of his tone. "Rill sacrificed himself that we might all escape. As did Yeslick...they were noble and brave, and we should do honour to their memories."

The revelation seemed to take the slaves and a collective moan went up towards the sky. Amidst the cries and chatter Anna saw Kiri slipping silently away, drifting into the trees like a ghost. She thought perhaps to follow her, but decided to leave the woman alone with her loss. She turned instead to help the others set up something resembling a camp for the night.

......

A nearby stream provided water but the slaves had no food, and what little the party had left would scarcely feed themselves. Kivan took his bow and went into the forest in search of a quarry, trusting on his elvish eyesight to find game in the darkness.

While they waited Anna sat blankly by the fire. Finn sat next to her but they spoke only short, necessary words. She paid no thought to her spells and she noted the normally studious enchanter doing the same. Xan had barely spoken a word to any of them since their escape and she watched him sitting across from her in the circle of light, regarding the flames as if they were an oracle. For one who'd been so convinced of his impending death he seemed strangely restrained. He was hardly the giddy sort, but even so she might expect some sign of joy or relief. A recollection of the despair of the cave came back to her though and she shuddered.

"I can't believe it's over," Finn finally said.

He was looking into the fire, that brightness still in his eyes.

"Yes," Anna said slowly. "You're free now, aren't you?"

"Free," he repeated, saying the word like it made no sense to his ears.

He reached into a bag on his belt and pulled out a crumpled, stained piece of paper. He opened it, smoothing out the wrinkles almost delicately. Anna recognised it without reading the words.

"It's all done now. You did justice for Gorion. You can move on."

"I'm not sure how," Finn said. "It...just doesn't seem real."

"It's a lot to deal with, I can imagine. That madman...and it was all for revenge," Anna sighed.

"Yeah. But...it just doesn't feel over. I thought when I found who did this I'd be able to relax, that I wouldn't have to look over my shoulder every other second, but I don't feel it. Why?"

"I suppose it will take awhile to sink in," she said, running a hand over his hair.

Finn murmured something in response, still staring at the mangled bounty notice.

"You are wise to be wary," Jaheira said. The druid sat with her husband near at hand. "The one who issued your bounty may be dead but news can be slow to travel. There may still be those who will come looking for you for some time, I am sorry to say."

Finn nodded but didn't respond.

.....

"Davaeorn," Khalid spoke. "I still c-cannot believe he was the r-root of this trouble."

"Indeed," Jaheira sighed.

"Did your allies give no hint he might be responsible?" Anna asked.

"None," Jaheira replied. "We had thought him dead. The last confirmed report said he had travelled to the east. That was nearly ten years ago now."

"Who is he?" Finn asked. "He talked about his daughter, but I don't understand. What happened? Did you know him?"

"Only by name," Jaheira said. "He was a great asset to the Harpers in his day, one of our finest mages. But his daughter was sent into a situation too dangerous for her lack of experience, with tragic results. Those involved were reprimanded and relinquished their duties but to him it was not enough. He tracked down her superiors and slaughtered them like dogs."

"It sounds like he had a reason," Finn commented.

"It was a mistake," Jaheira said, her eyes narrowing. "Harpers are not infallible. If we took blind revenge for every loss we would be in chaos."

"Did you not try to find him?" Anna said.

"Of course," Khalid replied. "We sought j-justice but he evaded his k-kin. But...considering the circumstances, the H-harpers did not seek him as hard as they might."

"And another grave mistake that turned out to be. How many innocent lives have been lost on account of that poor girl's?" Jaheira said.

"It still makes l-little sense," Khalid said thoughtfully. "If there were a mass m-murder of Harpers' children, w-would we not know? Yet we have h-heard no reports of such things."

"Yes, that thought has been hanging in my mind as well," Jaheira said. "But I believe Davaeorn spoke the truth. Still, there is little point in pondering this now. We shall bring what we know to the others in the city."

.....

Khalid said something in response but Anna faded from the conversation. Sleep kept pushing harder and harder into her brain, driving out even thoughts of food. She watched Finn toying idly with a small stick of wood. He too sat silently, lost in his thoughts. She watched him until she happened to glance up, surprised to see that the hunter had returned.

Kivan held a number of rabbits by their ears and he dropped their soft grey bodies onto the grass. He sat down and drew his knife, raising it in offering to the night sky. After he prayed Anna watched as the elf skilfully slid the blade into a rabbit's fur and peeled away hide from flesh as if it were skin from a fruit.

She watched as he gutted the creature, cutting away its yolk-like kidneys and other organs. His hands moved quickly and mechanically, driven by countless years of experience. Despite being a country girl Anna could never help flinching slightly when forced to clean animals but that night she watched the procedure with little more than detached interest. Even the smell of the dressed rabbits crackling on a spit did little to engage her. Next to her Finn finally spoke.

.....

"I need to go to bed."

He pulled off his gloves and rubbed his heavy eyes. He still wore his armour and the chainmail chinked slightly as he moved.

"Can I come with you?" Anna asked without thinking.

"What?"

The question seemed to rouse him and he looked at her, surprised. Anna suddenly felt her cheeks growing hot.

"I didn't mean..."

"I know," he said, rubbing his face and looking back down at the grass.

Anna hugged her knees and felt a strangeness quivering in her stomach. She only meant that she didn't care to sleep there, near the fire with the haunted-looking slaves and the fidgeting guards. It came to her as well how he and Safana used to make their bed some ways from the others and she cringed. Finn rose up and took his bedroll from his pack.

"Come on," he said quietly.

Anna looked at him but if there was intent in his eyes she didn't see it. She took his hand and followed him into the trees, far enough for privacy but near enough for safety. Finn unrolled the blankets onto the forest floor and laid down. Anna stood, hesitating, and almost as an afterthought he sat up and pulled himself out of his chain shirt and padded jacket.

"Here," he said, gesturing to her with an arm.

Anna couldn't read his expression in the darkness but she felt too tired for thought. She crawled over the prickly wool and lay down next to him. Finn pulled her close though and she rested her head on his chest, glad for his warmth in the cool night.

She lay still for some time, too tired for sleep. Instead she let her fingers trace lightly over the X-shaped pattern of his jerkin's laces. Lying close to him she drew in the deepness of his scent; it smelled of sweat and too many days on the road but it wasn't unpleasant. She listened to Finn's breath deepening and she felt his grip loosen. One had slid down past her waist and rested on her backside. She shifted slightly but it didn't move. Anna let out a little sigh and forced herself to shut her eyes.

......

She awoke with a start, barely aware that she'd been asleep. The waning moon was up and the trees had a faint light. Before she could wonder her heart flopped hearing Finn speak in a strange voice.

_"You will die."_

"What?" Anna said, sitting up quickly.

_"It isn't me. You will die."_

"Finn—" Anna began, but she had a queer feeling he wasn't talking to her.

She hitched herself away from him, listening as more strange words came from his mouth. He seemed to be in conversation but it made no sense, like he was talking to a madman. Or...he was mad. His arms flailed and she drew back in fear but he suddenly sat up quickly as she had.

_"No,"_ he said to the trees.

"Finn?" she repeated hesitantly.

He stared at her with a moon-washed face.

"Anna?"

"You don't know?" she replied, the words squeaking out.

"Yeah, I—what—"

"You had a nightmare," she said, finishing his thought.

"I did."

Finn drew his knees up and ran his hands though his hair. Even in the dim light she could see his body shaking.

"What...what was it?"

She wanted to go to him but stayed still. Finn raised his eyes but avoided her gaze.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeated, her voice getting higher. "You were talking about death. You said, 'you will die, you will die.'"

"I know," he said. "Just...it was nothing. Don't worry, alright?"

"Don't worry...? Has anything...happened?"

She spoke the last words in a whisper and Finn shuddered.

"I'm fine, don't worry. It's alright." He seemed to ramble over the words. "Get me some wine, won't you, pet?"

"Wine," Anna said flatly.

"Yeah. Please."

She sat looking at him. Finn ran his hands through his hair again but didn't look up. Still jumping with nerves Anna rose and went quickly back to the sleeping camp, fishing out a wineskin from her pack. When she handed it to him he fumbled with the fastening before swallowing the contents like water.

"Maybe you should go back to camp," Finn said. "I need to—think."

Anna's stomach quivered. She turned without another word and went back to the others, where she laid down near the fire's dead ashes and waited for the morning light.

......

"Hey, wake up. What's with you? You're almost in the fire."

Anna started again at another voice, this time Imoen's. The girl leaned over her in the faint light of dawn, poking at her shoulder.

"Nothing," Anna replied. Her mouth felt like she'd been eating sawdust. "Is it morning?"

"Pretty much. Where's Finn? I can't find him."

"He's...around," she said.

The memory of last night came to her like a bad dream of her own. She'd hoped Finn's nightmares were a thing of the past—a foolish hope but one she'd clung to. But she sensed concern and exhaustion in Imoen's eyes and didn't want to trouble her with the experience.

"Finn will be back, I'll look for him," Anna said, dragging herself to a sitting position.

She looked around the camp. Most of the slaves still slept huddled together as they were the night before. A few sat up though, glancing around furtively with hollow eyes. Imoen spoke again but Anna didn't hear what she said; Kivan stepped from the trees and she focused hard on his face. The elf normally wore an expression that was almost mask-like in its stillness but now Anna saw something there that frightened her. She jumped up and went to him.

.....

"What's the matter?" she said, sharp and quiet.

Kivan looked surprised at her earnestness.

"I have been patrolling the forest. There were tracks leading out of the camp, walking far from here. I was concerned so I followed..."

"And?"

"The woman has joined her son," he said quietly.

Anna let out a breath and rubbed her hand over her mouth, feeling ashamed at her relief.

"Oh, gods," Imoen said. "That poor woman. It's so sad...should we—do something?"

"She has left this life, her body is now only a shell. I did what I could for her, but perhaps it is best to let her lay where she chose to fall," Kivan replied.

"Yes," Anna said.

Emotion suddenly welled up and tears began falling down her cheeks before she could try to stop them. Kivan noticed and placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

"She died when her son left her, but now with hope she can live again. Do not cry for her."

"No," Anna said, wiping her eyes. "Have you seen Finn?"

"He was washing by the stream when I passed," he said.

"Good. I think I'll...go find him."

Anna left the pair and hurried away into the woods. She tried to dry her eyes and wondered how many times tears had fallen since she met Finn. She was never a woman to cry at every little thing, but then she had never been afraid of the dark, never looked upon the dead face of a human being that had fallen to her hand...she forced herself to turn away from her thoughts before they overtook her again.

......

She found Finn pale and tired-looking as he crouched by the stream's edge. He stood up at her approach. His eyes were red and Anna didn't need to see the flaccid wineskin to know he'd finished it off.

"Hey," he said. "I don't suppose you've got any of those nice herbs in your bag, do you?"

Finn tried a smile but it fell flat. Anna looked at him and sighed.

"No. Just this."

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head against his chest. Finn seemed surprised but pulled her tight against his body, placing little kisses down her hair and her cheek before burying his face in her neck.

"That's even better," he said.

They held each other for a silent moment but Anna felt like bursting.

"Won't you just—tell me?" she said, running her hands through his hair. "Whatever you're going through, please—I want to help you. I want to be there. But you keep driving me back, saying nothing's wrong when there obviously is...and now I can see this whole cycle starting up again...it scares me, Finn, and I don't..."

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"Don't be," she replied.

He drew back from her and she held his face in her hands.

"Don't be sorry," she said. "Just..try and make it better."

"Okay," he said, wiping away a new tear with a thumb. "I promise."

.....

He pulled her into a deep kiss and Anna responded. She felt her legs fading and together they lay down on the forest floor. Anna felt dazed from emotion and exhaustion and she let Finn's hands explore her body, not stopping them as they slipped apart laces and slid up under her robes.

She clutched at his back and felt the heat of her own breath where her lips brushed against his neck, aware of the warmth of his hands on her skin. Her other hand slid down his waist but Finn slowly pulled back from her.

"Anna," he whispered. "Do you want this?"

"I—"

In her rush she hadn't thought about what she wanted. She only felt his touch. Looking into his eyes though the import of the question hit her and she faltered.

"I need to know. I can't carry on, it's too much. I need to know," he said.

"I don't..." she hesitated. "What do you want?"

"You need to ask?"

His eyes sparked. She ran a finger over his flushed, full lips and swallowed hard.

"No."

_"Anna," _Finn groaned.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, pulling away from him and readjusting her clothing. "I can't. It's—not right. How could we, here, now? I'm sorry, Finn...I just..."

"Okay, it's okay," he replied, though there was a dryness in his tone. "Don't worry about it."

He sat up and sighed raggedly. Neither of them said anything. Anna looked at the forest at first but shifted her gaze to him. Finn's jaw was set and his eyes were still burning but they had a different light.

.....

"I'm not trying to tease," she said quietly. "I don't know what gets into me with you.." she broke off and laughed quietly, but Finn's expression didn't change. "I just don't think that—"

"Have you ever been with a man?"

His question was abrupt and Anna started.

"No."

She felt her cheeks growing brighter and Finn pursed his lips.

"I thought you knew that," she said softly.

"How would I know? I thought maybe, but I don't know, do I? I've not spent my life hiding under your bed."

"Does it matter?" she asked after another silent minute.

"No," he said. "I never cared about maidenhood one way or another. But what does it mean?"

"What?"

"Well, you and me, we get pretty friendly. But then it always ends up like this—nothing. Is this the way it's going to be? It's doing my head in. It's all right, you know," he said to the grass. "I'm not going to leave you or run off and brag to everyone what a whore you are."

Anna flinched at his words.

"And I don't understand. Is this what you expect? We aren't...married. I don't know why you think I should just give myself to you. And I'm sorry if you think I've been leading you around—"

"Ah, right, I get it now," Finn interrupted. "You'll let me touch your goodies as long as I pretend to be a gentleman about it, eh?"

Anna glared at him and his lip curled.

"Sorry. Maybe you don't mean it. I don't think you're the kind that plays around with a man's head, not really. But I just don't want to be chasing after something I'm never going to get, you know? I feel like a proper tit, and to be honest I'm getting fed up."

"What do you mean by that?" she said, her heart pounding.

"I just—tell me. Right here and now." Finn looked at her. "What is this to you, Anna? I've never had anything like this, I don't know...you're supposed to be the clever one. What am I supposed to feel? Should I get down on bended knee and sing like a twat all night for a wave of your hankie? Is that what you want? Tell me."

"Finn—" she sighed.

"No, I'm asking. I want to know," he said.

.....

Anna stared at him, unsure of what answer he was expecting. It was for him to speak first, not her, and she fumbled for words. He gazed at her for a moment then looked back at the forest.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I? You aren't the first man to kiss me, but you seem to get away with a lot more than they have. Doesn't that say anything?"

She tried to make the words sound bright and gently touched his hand. Finn scoffed in his throat.

"Yeah. We're all here, aren't we?" He bit his lip and his eyes narrowed. "Me and my big mouth. It's all my fault, you know. I hadn't said anything, we'd be making it right now."

"Finn!" Anna exclaimed. "Be serious."

His mouth still frowned but a little spark crept back into his eyes.

"You're right. Who am I kidding? Hells, I'd be long finished."

Anna's mouth fell open, but she had to cover it to contain her laughter at the sidelong glance he gave her.

"Finn—is it really alright?" she asked when they stopped laughing.

"Guess it'll have to be, won't it?" he said. "I reckon I could learn a few chansons. My limericks won't really stand up in court."

Anna laughed quietly at his pun. He reached out and drew her close to him, squeezing her neck rather tightly with his arm. She glanced up at him and saw that his expression had fallen again. She buried her face in his chest and he caressed her hair but she still felt the weight of that look. She'd seen it before. And whatever Finn said, she knew what it meant.

.....

They rejoined the group before being called. Walking back into the clearing Anna saw a number of the slaves in tears. She heard Kiri's name mentioned and sighed.

"I'll do it," a slave spoke. "I'll go and tell them."

"Why you?" another commented. "You hated her."

"I didn't," the man said defensively, and Anna slowly recognised him as the angry slave who'd insulted Kiri, what seemed like a thousand years earlier in the mine.

"You never said ought but horrible things to her," the slave replied. "You called her a filthy whore. Who the hells are you? You're just a sailor, you ain't no saint yourself."

"I know," the man said. He looked something like a whipped hound, his strong shoulders hunched. "You wanna know the truth—I'd been to her brothel before. I'd get all sauced up and swagger in...I saw her with her boy, though. She loved the little lad, treated him like a prince. She sent him out for sweeties when she was on the job. It seemed so...I don't know. It got to me. I'm sorry for the things I said, I were only ashamed. Me mam didn't raise her boy to frequent whorehouses. I think Kiri knew that, why she never called me on it. I want to tell them she's gone though. Make up for it, like."

"If you really want to do right, you'll march straight up and put Throne's necks in a noose," another slave said loud. "The Fist sure as hells won't do it."

"The Flaming Fist do not tolerate slavery. I am certain justice will soon be done," Ajantis remarked.

"Don't they?" the slave said. "Then why is it we're all here, eh? Why'd they never do anything about it?"

"They must have—" the knight began.

"And I'm telling ye, they didn't. Look at us, we're a motley lot. Sailors, whores, chambermaids, all rounded up somehow and dragged here. Why you think nobody ever called foul? We're the sort nobody notices if they've gone missing, I give you that, but most of us have got family or mates somewhere and I'd like to think they might've realised we weren't around no more. The Fist haven't done jack, friend. They don't care."

Ajantis frowned looking for a response though Anna could see doubt in his eyes.

"It may appear to be so, but the Flaming Fist are known throughout the lands as an honourable organisation. There must be an answer, and by Helm I for one will help you find it. But for now we should be on our way."

.....

Jaheira seconded the command and Anna began the unenviable task of helping the battered slaves prepare for the long march out of the forest. She glanced up though, noticing the guards standing and talking in a little circle.

"I think we'll be on our way and all," one said to the druid.

"Where?" she replied.

"We were talking, me and the lads. And we don't reckon the Fist will be too kind to us, you know? You can take care of these folks for now, but it's best we were on our way."

"You are slavers," Kivan said. "Do you expect to live as free men?"

The guard glared back into the elf's hard stare.

"And what were you planning, to hand us in once we got to the city? No, ta. You can fight us if you want, but we're leaving."

The exchange continued as Anna watched. She hadn't considered what would become of the men, and although she had little fondness for them the idea of throwing them to the mercy of the city guards somehow didn't sit well.

"Stop the chatter," Finn said, interrupting them. "You don't need us to tell you that it's Cloakwood Forest out there. You boys look rough as a dog's arse, you're barely armed and you don't have any food. If you think you'd rather take your chances with the ettercaps and wyverns than face a trial, then I say go on. But you won't be following us out of here, I can tell you that."

"I shall make certain of it," Kivan said, fingering his bow meaningfully.

"And what assurance will we have that these men will not continue in their trade if they survive the forest?" Jaheira said.

"What bloody 'trade'?" the guard replied. "We're mercenaries, that's it. Who knows, we might get a job guarding a convent next."

"Or protecting more slavers," the druid hissed.

"We can either let them go or kill them now," Finn said, and the men noticeably flinched. "They'll do a runner when we get to the city anyway, and I don't feel up to keeping an eye on them. What do you want to do?"

Jaheira sighed in agitation.

"Very well. Let the bastards go, Finn, but know I shall lay the blame on you if I find they've done more harm."

"I wouldn't want that," he replied, a slight glint in his eyes. "You can hit the road. But I don't want to ever see you again, understand?"

"Yep. Take a good look at our backsides, it's the last view you'll get. Come on lads, we're leaving," the guard announced.

.....

Without any goodbyes the men followed after one another, disappearing into the green.

"I hope you have made the correct decision," Kivan remarked.

"If they make it out of the trees they'll be lucky. We'll tell the Fist about them all the same, likely they'll be holed up in Beregost drinking away their troubles before long. But let's move out, eh? I'm sick of this bloody place."

Finn began sorting his pack. Anna glanced at Jaheira and saw her eyes snapping, but she muttered something under her breath and left to attend to the slaves. With a slight sigh the mage did the same.


	53. Hearth Fire

With little surprise the slaves moved slowly through the trees and as the sun set that night only Anna's weariness told her they'd covered any miles at all. Finn had been friendly but strangely quiet that day, spending most of the walk on his own looking up at the treetops. For her part she felt shy and a little nervous in talking with him, a reaction that didn't help the distance she now felt between them. But he would glance at her from time to time with a quiet smile and she tried to convince herself that the trouble was only in her head.

Soon after another meal provided by Kivan's bow she collapsed in her bedroll into a hard sleep. She awoke in the dead of night to find Khalid shaking her gently. Anna rolled over with a quiet groan but didn't speak; the watch wouldn't be ignored and she couldn't skip on her part for a simple lack of sleep. She rubbed her bleary eyes, took a drink of wine and stumbled off into the moonlit trees.

.....

She headed for a spot she'd found in the daylight, a small clearing where the grass grew short and soft. It would certainly be a more comfortable place to wait out her two hours than perched on another cold slab of granite, she thought grimly.

Entering the clearing her heart jumped into her throat—she wasn't alone. A strange figure stood in the moonlight, featureless and scarcely visible but for its thin shadow. The figure turned quickly though and Anna tried to draw breath.

"Xan. You scared me," she said with a gasp.

"As did you," he said sharply. "You can be remarkably quiet when you like."

He pulled down his hood but drew the elvish cloak that had confused her eyes more tightly around him, and in the moonlight she could make out his frown. Anna laughed a little to herself. A fat bear wouldn't have made more noise than she did stumbling through the wood that night; perhaps elven ears weren't always as good as legend suggested.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked. "Your watch must be long over."

"Yes, but I decided to let Imoen rest."

"Lucky her," Anna said dryly.

"You may return to bed if you wish. I will remain here for awhile yet," Xan said.

"We're supposed to have two on watch now," she rejoined. "All for one, and for all a lack of sleep."

"Quite. But I am sure I would manage for one night," the elf said, sounding oddly insistent.

"You seem keen. Can you not rest?" Anna asked.

"I took my reverie some hours ago. And there is little for me to do in the camp—the fire is out and I cannot read very well in the dark. It can be rather dull these nights, sitting and waiting for the others to finish their sleep."

He turned and walked a few paces from her, gathering up something dark that lay on the grass. Anna saw with slight surprise that it was his boots. Xan placed a hand on a nearby tree and gazed up at its crown, but suddenly pulled it away as if the trunk grew hot.

"What is it?" she asked.

In the dim light she could see a strange look on his face. Xan grimaced and spoke.

"It is nothing I could share. I simply wished to feel life again after that foul mine, to feel the living grass under my feet for a change. Excuse me," he added.

His words seemed strained for a casual statement Anna looked at him, puzzled.

"That doesn't seem so hard to relate. I feel that, too."

"Do you?" he said.

Some of his old manner crept out and Anna found herself bristling, but she was too weary to feed it.

"Xan...I'm tired of this. Must you always be this way? Being human doesn't make me blind, deaf and dumb. We've been through too much for this to go on. Stop it, please."

The elf glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "It was a simple comment, that is all. How you found a critique of your race in two words I don't know."

"It was there. I heard it," she replied.

"Then your ears are better than mine. And since you raised the subject, I might likewise ask you to cease this relentless quest to prove me a bigot," Xan said, his tone growing harder. "I do not hate humans, and I do not think you a fool, a child, or anything else you might dream up tonight. Go back to sleep, Anna. I only wanted some peace, and you are robbing what little of it I can find."

His dismissal delivered he turned back to the trees. It somehow struck a chord inside her and she snapped at him.

"Your peace? And what peace do you think I have? It's gone, and every day there's less and less. You don't know—" she broke off and shook her head. "Keep your bloody peace then. Enjoy it."

She stormed away through the wood, leaving the surprised elf looking after her. Where had those words come from? She felt like a flighty fool, but she didn't care.

......

She started though feeling Xan's hand on her arm. The elf following her was the last she expected and she stumbled to a stop.

"Anna, is there something wrong?"

A concern in his voice surprised her. His expression matched his tone and she looked away again, unsure of what to think.

"Why?" she stammered.

"Why? You have just..." he grumbled a little but continued. "I am not blind, I can see that something is happening. And it only seems to grow stronger, just as..."

He didn't finish his thought. Anna blinked at him.

"Xan, it's...there's nothing you can do."

"You might tell me. It would be a start."

She took a step back from him, almost in fear that she might. She had nearly come to accept Finn's strange abilities but the return of his nightmares frightened her more than she wanted to admit. The secret bore down on her but there was nothing she could do.

"I can't," she whispered.

She looked down at the forest floor, feeling the elf's keen eyes on her. She wanted to run but her feet stayed frozen to the spot. After a moment Xan let out a sigh.

"Why do you keep this hidden? I know you are frightened. Your every movement tells me that. We are all frightened for our lives here, every day, but—with you, I sense something deeper. I am not your enemy, Anna, whatever you might think. Tell me."

His frankness startled her even more and she felt her stomach tighten.

"And what is stopping you entering my mind to find out?" she proclaimed.

"Do you honestly believe I would do that? Do you?" he demanded. "I do not use my abilities on a whim. I want to help. But you will not aid Finn if you continually try to protect him."

Hearing Finn's name shook her. Whatever his claims the enchanter's thoughts so closely matched her own that she recoiled.

"Protect him? What should I be protecting him from?"

"From himself," he said quietly.

"He doesn't need protecting," she said, her voice shaking.

"Are you certain?"

Anna stared at him.

"I'm going back to camp."

She turned quickly, leaving Xan standing behind her. Anna worried he might follow and push her for more information but he didn't. Her heart pounded as if she'd been running for miles. Why had he upset her so? The elf only spoke the truth. She knew it, she felt it, but she wasn't ready to admit it. She fell into her bedroll and drew the blankets up tight over her head.

.....

Anna managed somehow to sleep again but dawn intruded through the blanket's weave like an unwelcome visitor. She pulled down the covers quickly, forcing herself to acknowledge the morning. The camp was stirring and she saw Jaheira nearby coaxing up the fire. Kivan stood on, watching her work.

"It may take us a tenday at this rate," the druid sighed. "I have led groups of injured people before, but the terrain makes this the slowest march I have ever known."

She grumbled quietly to herself, glancing up to see if any of the former prisoners overheard her complaint.

"Then that is how long it will take," Kivan replied. "And I would not have thought a druid so keen to depart the forests for the city."

Jaheira paused in her work and looked up at him.

"Was that a jest?" she said, fixing him with one of her looks.

"The followers of Shevarash do not speak in jests," the elf said, though from Jaheira's answering snort Anna inferred there was at least a hint of humour in the ranger's eyes.

.....

Anna dragged herself from the blankets and wandered to the small spring near the camp. She hoped for privacy and this time at least her prayers were answered.

The spring flowed like a little waterfall out of a rock, trickling delicately away through the woods in a path hardly more than a foot wide. The water was clear but so cold it burned her face when she splashed it against her skin. She ran her damp hands over her hair and felt a roughness; she hadn't brushed or plaited it since before they entered the mines and she could see the result in the tiny, tangled hairs that stuck out from her ragged braids.

The business needed attending though so Anna sat and pulled her braids apart before running her brush through her dirty hair. It stuck in countless little snarls and she winced in irritation from the pain. After a minute she heard the shrubbery rustle and turned around quickly.

"I'm glad you haven't cut it off," Finn said, regarding her with a little smile.

"What makes you think I would?" Anna asked.

"Well, you don't see many adventuring women with long hair, and I reckon now I know why. My own's enough of a pain, can't imagine how it must be having it long as you do," he replied, rubbing a hand through his greasy dark locks.

Anna smiled quietly. "It is a hassle, but I can't imagine cutting it. It'd be like cutting off my arm. Hopefully we'll be in the city before long anyway and I can give it a proper bath."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm looking forward to that myself, but in the meantime I've learned I definitely don't have a bright career as a ranger ahead of me."

Anna laughed. Finn's mood seemed lighter that morning and she felt a tangible relief; perhaps she'd overreacted to their conversation after all. It wouldn't be the first time she had, that was certain. She watched as he splashed the icy water onto his cheeks, then dunked his head entirely under the stream.

While she watched it occurred to her just how truly fond she'd grown of him. Not just from the little thrills of having a handsome lover, but from him, with all his different traits and inconsistencies. His faults and the strangeness surrounding him still couldn't overshadow it.

Wandering together in the wilderness they seemed in their own little world much of the time, for good and ill, but she thought now of how things might change once they reached the city. Despite her eagerness to reach civilisation a tiny bit of sadness crept over her. Whatever happened things wouldn't be the same, and a small voice even raised the possibility that they might go their separate ways. The thought alarmed her and she drove it back down.

"Bloody hells," he gasped, emerging. "That'll wake you up."

He slid his hair back from his red face and grinned at her. She smiled at him again and he crawled forward to kiss her with cold lips.

_"Oh_, Finn," she said, laughing harder.

"Sorry. Give me a minute to warm back up, eh?"

Anna set her brush down and ran a hand through his cool, wet hair. His eyes laughed at her, for once bright and clear. On impulse she leaned forward and kissed him, chilly lips and all.

.....

"Is everything...all right?" she felt driven to ask when they parted.

"Yeah, it's fine," he smiled. "Why? Is everything all right with you?"

"Yes," she responded.

"You don't sound too sure."

Anna pursed her lips, unsure of whether to speak.

"Finn," she said quietly, "Xan knows."

"Knows what?"

"About you. About what you can do."

He paused.

"Did you tell him?" he asked.

"No, of course not. But he's figured it out, I'm sure of it. He knows there's something..."

She trailed off, unsure herself of what exactly the elf might or might not know. Finn's face kept that look and he bit at the inside of his cheek.

"What did he say to you?"

"Not much," Anna said. "But he knows something is going on."

"Well, let him know then. It doesn't matter," he said quickly. "I don't care. It's not like it was going to be a secret forever, right?"

"No, but..."

"What?"

"Nothing," she sighed.

Having others know about Finn's abilities would be a relief but the idea still frightened her. Xan knew something, she was certain, and in truth she feared his conclusions. Finn began to talk of other things but Anna could see his mind mulling over the revelation. She plaited her hair quickly and they returned to camp.

.....

They marched as soon as the slaves could make themselves ready. Despite Kivan and Khalid's efforts food was still slim and the men and women moved wearily, many of them hampered by old injuries that were beyond a healer's skill.

When the sun drew overhead they paused and Anna shared out the last of the wine—it was the only comfort they had for aching bones and they drank it down swiftly. The few remaining herbs she had were likewise taken up by elixirs and infusions to treat various illnesses. A particularly frail slave had taken to wearing Anna's cloak despite the warm summer air, and grimly she wondered if she would need to part with her blankets next. Not that it would matter; she'd become so used to sleeping on the ground that a bedroll was more of a habit than a necessity to comfort.

......

While they ate Kivan had gone off on his usual habit of scouting the trail ahead, but when he returned Anna looked up in surprise at two strange men.

They were clearly men of the forest; their beards were long and braided with more plaits falling down their backs, and their clothing was made mostly from animal skins. They each carried a stone-tipped spear but neither seemed to have a bow, an unusual thing for rangers. Despite their wild appearance their faces bore a remarkable calm and Anna felt at ease with them at once. When Jaheira saw them however she rose up quickly, a rare smile on her face.

"Sister," one of the men said to her. "Our woodsman friend has told us of your presence in our home, and we are glad to see it is so."

"And glad I am to see you, brothers," Jaheira replied with obvious relief. "In the name of Silvanus I greet you heartily."

"What's going on?" Imoen whispered to Anna. "Are they really her brothers?"

"They must be druids," the mage replied. "They consider all their kind to be family."

"I am Rondin, an elder of our grove," the druid man continued. "And this is Melvan, the husband of my daughter. This good son of the wood has told us that you would benefit from our assistance."

"Yes, brother, we are in sore need," Jaheira replied. "We liberated these people from slavery in a mine, but they are injured and we have few supplies. We would welcome any aid you might give."

"The elf has told us these things, but I didn't want to believe them," the younger man said. "It pains me that such evil could exist in our home."

"Indeed. But our summer camp isn't far from here—please, come with us and we shall speak more. We shall have a feast in your honour," Rondin replied.

"Seriously?" Finn spoke up. "That'd be brilliant. Thank you."

The man nodded and bowed his head politely, but Anna thought she saw him start somehow when he looked upon Finn. He seemed to recover though and she brushed it aside.

......

The druid's offer seemed like a gift from heaven and they all rallied to their feet with a new enthusiasm. They followed the men through the forest and before long came upon a circle of small huts in a clearing. A number of children and dogs milled around the newcomers excitedly, the children staring and smiling with wide eyes, pointing out the group to the dogs who needed no such aid. The rest of the small village paused in their work and came forward to likewise examine the unusual visitors.

Anna imagined the sylvan settlement was normally a place of calm, but at Rondin's instruction it became one of buzzing activity. Healers brought their gifts and food appeared from every hut as the druids stoked fires to make a meal for the half-starved slaves. The druids cheerfully refused all offers of help from the group and Anna gladly rested her feet watching skilled hands preparing the feast.

They drank of a piquant wine of berries and flowers and ate fish cooked on strips of bark in the coals. The only other meat was dried venison; the druids commented that they did not hunt for game in the summer months when the animals were caring for their young. They had nutty-tasting flat bread with honey and a mix of herbs dipped in a sweet vinegar. The meal was light but it tasted fresh, and at the end of it Anna felt more restored than if she'd had a good night's sleep.

.....

After they'd eaten Rondin called together the other elders of the grove in a meeting.

"Truth be known, we have heard rumours of such dealings from other groves in the wood," he said. "But we had not seen it with our own eyes."

"I doubt there is much we could have done regardless," a female elder spoke. "By these people's descriptions the villains were well armed, and we are very rarely called to fight."

"Yes," another said. "Violence destroys the balance, but there are times when it is necessary. But as Lervena says, it is unlikely we would have succeeded."

"I know well what warfare does to the balance, and one's own mind," Jaheira said. "And I for one am glad that you did not attempt it in this case—these people are ruthless, and they would not think twice to destroy you all out of revenge for this kindness."

As she spoke a strange tone crept into her voice, but she pulled herself back to the conversation.

"What other tales have your kindred shared?" Kivan asked. "It is possible there are other unfortunates enslaved as these people were."

"Only vague tales, I'm afraid," Rondin said. "Stories of people being led about in chains, of them dragging heavy loads of rock out beyond the borders of the wood. It is said they were sometimes guarded by warriors in red."

"Men in red?" Ajantis spoke. "Surely that...it does not seem possible."

The knight ran a hand over his mouth thoughtfully.

"The Flaming Fist do not have sole possession of that colour," Jaheira said, though her own face was grim.

"There has been talk that these men may have been the guards of the city to the north," Lervena said. "Though it would be a great despair for us if that were true. We have little regard for the cities as you may imagine, but the guards of Baldur's Gate have always aided us in defending our borders from raiders."

"Their uniforms may have been fabricated," Ajantis suggested.

"Maybe. But to me this whole thing just keeps smelling worse and worse," Finn said. "Didn't that slave say the Fist wasn't looking into the people who'd gone missing?"

"He did, but that does not necessarily make it the truth," Jaheira replied. "It may well seem so to one who feels they've been abandoned by all. We shall know little for certain till we reach the city."

"All the same, some discretion may be in order," Xan said. "If the Flaming Fist are indeed corrupt they would not appreciate our loudly proclaiming that fact to all that would hear. We should go about any investigation quietly."

"A wise choice when d-dealing with any in power," Khalid added.

Finn said nothing but he seemed to be regarding Xan rather keenly. He turned away from the elf though with an odd look on his face.

"Perhaps then you should not arrive with such a group on your heels," Rondin said. "I doubt these poor souls would bear silence well. We could care for them here, and when they have rested and been healed we could escort them out of the trees."

"That would be a great service," Jaheira said. "But we have taken much of your hospitality already. The summer grows shorter and you will be looking to put food away for the winter. We should not wish to empty your stores."

"The season is not done yet," Rondin chuckled. "The trees are still filled with bounty. And we would not turn away good people in need, you know this yourself."

"Then I would thank you, and wish you Silvanus' blessings," Jaheira replied.

Rondin smiled. "We shall meditate and pray to the Oak Father this evening in the grove. We would be pleased to have you join us, sister."

"I should like that very much," she said, answering his look.

......

With the meeting adjourned Anna found the concept of idleness a strange one to deal with. She spent some time attending to her neglected spellbook but she felt little in the mood for study. Finn and Imoen had given her some peace to learn her spells so she sat alone with her back to a poplar tree, regarding the village instead.

The cone-shaped huts were made of mats of tightly woven branches and grasses that covered the supporting poles like a skin. No smoke issued from any of them; she imagined fires wouldn't be an advantage at that season and the druids seemed to do their cooking in three communal fires in the centre of the village.

She happened to see Khalid and Jaheira talking amiably with a few druid children, the woman telling them some no-doubt moral story of their travels. A small child beckoned to her and Jaheira knelt before the girl.

Anna watched the child thoughtfully and deliberately placing small white flowers in the druid's hair. Jaheira sat perfectly still, looking somewhat self-conscious despite the small, happy smile on her lips. She glanced up and said something to Khalid, who smiled warmly in return.

With her sternness stripped away Anna thought how pretty Jaheira actually was, with her honey-brown ringlets and tanned skin accentuating the delicate features of her elven heritage. Her strict solemnity and rigid plainness of attire kept her from being beautiful, but Anna imagined that in another time and place that word could be easily applied to her.

.....

She turned her eyes to where a man sat outside his hut repairing a fishing net, weaving the strands skilfully with a hook made of bone. He sang a low song as he worked; the words were too low for Anna to hear but the tune caught in her mind. It reminded her of one the Chaunteans sang at harvest-tide, that spoke of the gathering before the fall.

She thought for a moment of the fields around Beregost that would now be rich with grain, their borders edged by green hedgerows filled with reddening hawthorn berries. The fairies' trees, Maya would call them, and Anna smiled a little remembering her insistence that she should never break a branch when gathering the haws to make into jelly.

Somehow the thought called up an image of the plump housekeeper, plain as if she'd just seen her yesterday. She would have no way of knowing whether Anna was dead or alive. How long had it been since she sent that letter, far behind them at the Friendly Arm Inn? She thought too of Tom Wentway and wondered with a start if the merchant wasn't back in Beregost, fuming that Anna still hadn't returned. Recalling that little slice of her old life seemed strangely at odds with their situation and she rose up and wandered into the trees to clear her head.

.....

She walked past the curious, friendly eyes of the druids into a forest that for once seemed safe enough for a ramble. The tips of some of the branches were already stained with gold and red, leaving Anna to wonder if autumn wasn't setting in early that year. But the day was pleasantly warm and she could feel the heat of the sun in the places it penetrated the trees.

Her feet lifted and she followed a faint trail left by the druids, but she paused in surprise seeing a flame-haired man kneeling not far from the path. Anna wandered up to him, gaily kicking aside a few leaves and the man turned around.

She stopped though seeing Ajantis' face; it was sombre and his eyes were heavy and red. When he noticed her the knight rose quickly, sweeping into a formal bow.

"Forgive me, my lady. The...losses of the past few days have reminded me again of my own. I was saying a prayer for my fallen friends."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Anna said apologetically.

"Do not concern yourself," he said with a small smile.

She noticed he held a piece of cloth almost delicately between his strong fingers. It was red and gold, not the silver and purple colours of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart. He saw her looking and unfolded it, revealing a standard of rampant lions on a field of crimson.

"It is the crest of the family Pelagrim, one of the great noble houses of Amn," he explained. "My dear friend Sir Delas bore it proudly when he rode out with the Order, as did his father and his father before him. When he lay dying in my arms he begged me to carry it for him, that it should not fall into foul hands."

"It must be a hard thing for you to bear, but...they died with honour," she said quietly, trying to find words that might comfort him.

"Is there honour in battling filthy rogues?" Ajantis suddenly said, but shook away his mood. "No...you are correct, my lady. They saved innocent lives, and they did their duty. No better could be said of any man. But the thought that such worthy men should fall in such a way..."

He clutched at the standard and his hand shook. Anna slowly walked nearer to him.

"How did they fall?" she asked.

The knight's eyes narrowed. "We encountered the bandits in the wilds. The rogues had surrounded a merchant caravan—several had already died at their hands and I doubt not the others were soon to follow. They pretended to surrender to our swords but they had allies in the trees. They let loose their arrows on our horses and the poor animals fell, taking us with them. The bandits crawled over us like rats. There was no honour. Delas was stabbed in the neck... Forgive me. He was like a brother to me, and we loved each other dearly."

"I am sorry," Anna said, aware of his pained eyes.

Ajantis looked at her and bowed again.

"Thank you. But I should not have related such a violent tale to a lady."

"It's all right, sir," she said, smiling a little in spite of the situation. "I have seen enough bloodshed of my own now, I am sorry to say. I'm not as sensitive as I once was."

"I regret that as well. Were it in my power to take away those things, my lady, I would do so without hesitation," the knight said, almost tenderly.

Anna smiled again at his gentleness. For one of his strength his compassion had often struck her in the short time they had known one another.

.....

"I shall leave you to your prayers, then," she said, curtseying to the knight.

"Are you returning to the village, my lady?" Ajantis asked. "If you are, I should be honoured to escort you."

Anna hadn't planned to return so soon, but she smiled and nodded. He offered her his arm and she took it with a slight flush, hoping Finn didn't come across the pair of them.

They walked slowly and Ajantis was silent, his mind still clearly on his comrades.

"How many were in your group?" she asked.

"We knights were four, with our squires and attendants. A small group but we were meant as an envoy, not a war party," Ajantis sighed. "Forgive me. This talk also brings to mind my poor squire, Richand."

"Did he fall as well?"

"Yes, Helm grant him peace. He was a good, pious lad, and an attentive squire. Too rash perhaps at times, but only because he so wished to defend the innocent. Only sixteen years of age—such a waste. His death was a great loss, he would have made a fine knight."

Anna shook her head and they walked in silence.

"Will you return to Amn once we have brought our word to the city?" she asked after a time.

"Perhaps. I sent word ahead that I was to return, but I now must inform the High Hall of these new developments and await their response. I do hope at least to return home before the end of Elesias."

"Why is that?"

Ajantis smiled. "My youngest sister, Melia, shall be wed then. She is ever anxious that I should be away from Athkatla and miss the wedding." His face grew brighter and he chuckled slightly. "Her letters speak of little else besides the preparations—it shall be quite an event. She seems quite fond of her intended, and he of her. I am glad. I should despair if my sisters were wed to men they did not care for."

The afterthought was an odd one and Anna glanced up at him, but he offered no further remark.

"Sisters?" she asked instead. "You have others?"

"One other—Lela, who is also younger than myself. She has been married for a number of years and it brings me joy to say that I am an uncle thrice over."

Ajantis spoke proudly and Anna contained a smile.

"Do you have any brothers?"

The knight's face fell though and she began to regret asking.

"I did have a brother, Berantis. He fell in the same battle that claimed my father, when I was but thirteen years of age."

"I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip.

"Thank you, but do not feel sorrow," Ajantis said. "It was a trying time for our family but it has passed. We who survived rallied together for strength as we have always done. It is the price of duty, one we have paid many times."

Anna unwittingly gave his arm a squeeze. He looked down at her, surprised, but his eyes seemed kind and he did not flush as readily as he'd been wont to do.

.....

They conversed for the rest of the way, Anna answering the knight's own polite questions about her family. He seemed especially interested in her father's heritage and spoke highly of a group of knights he had once known from Cormyr.

Imoen's appearance as they stepped from the trees reminded Anna of her hold on the knight and she released his arm, though thankfully Finn was nowhere in sight. The girl however was still sharp in her greeting.

"I was looking for you," she said. "I thought we might have another magic lesson or something since we haven't had one in ages, but I guess you were busy."

"Imoen, I'm sorry. You were off with Finn, and I didn't think of it."

"Well, it looks like you weren't lonely, anyway," she muttered.

"If you would pardon me, I should attend to my armour—it still is not properly clean from the deluge," Ajantis said, perhaps sensing the tension. "My lady, it was a pleasure to walk with you." He bowed and Anna nodded. "Good afternoon."

He spoke to Anna but he gave Imoen a polite glance before departing to the huts. Imoen watched him go with a rather baleful look.

"Well, would you like a lesson now?" Anna said, clapping her hands together and trying to sound enthusiastic.

"No, thanks. I think I just had one."

"Imoen!" the mage called, surprised as the girl turned and strode away.

She didn't respond. Anna shook her head and went back to her spellbook with a renewed commitment.

.....

Later she found Finn sitting off to himself. He'd taken up his hobby of carving and she sat next to him with a smile.

"Still working, I see?" Anna said.

_"Hrm," _he replied, more of a noise than a comment.

His eyes were focused on a small detail and she stayed silent waiting for him to finish. When he blew off the shavings though he didn't seem much more sociable.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Just fine, to answer your favourite question."

"Well...are you going to tell me what this all is, now?" Anna continued, trying to ignore his mood.

"Don't know if I should bother."

He glanced up at her and Anna felt her heart jump.

"What do you mean?"

"Truth be told I've been making this as a little present for my girl, but I'm not so sure that she wants it anymore."

"Finn!" Anna said. "What are you talking about?"

He'd spoken with such a level tone it was impossible for to tell if he was joking or not.

"Imoen said you were getting rather cosy with our fine knight this afternoon," he said briefly.

"She did—" Anna began, but found herself letting out a laugh. "I'm not surprised. Between you and me, I think Imoen might have set her cap for him."

"You think, eh?" Finn replied.

"Yes, hard as that is to picture. Ajantis and I happened to meet in the woods. We were walking back together, that's all."

"If you say so," he said, going back to his carving.

"I do say so," Anna replied, growing somewhat defensive.

"Like I said, if that's your story then I believe you," Finn said. "Reckon she was being a bit too dramatic about it, anyway."

.....

"So, can I have my gift now?"

Anna gave him a look and he grinned.

"Maybe. How about a little reward first?"

He leaned into her but Anna pulled back.

"Gifts aren't supposed to come with rewards," she said blithely.

"Then how about a bit of charity for a poor sod who's worn his fingers down to the bone? _Ah, _bloody splinters!"

Finn let out a curse and Anna chuckled behind her hand. He looked at her indignantly and she kissed him with a laugh.

"So, what is it?"

"It's not completely done yet, but what the hells," Finn announced.

He reached for a bag at hand and emptied out a number of small carved pieces of wood that looked like little statues. Some were plain, but others had been stained black over the coals. He spread them out and looked bright for Anna's approval.

_"Um, _what is it?" she asked, trying to match his smile.

"Something wrong with your eyes, woman?" he said, teasing. "Look here."

With a finger he sketched a square onto the dirt between them, filling it in with straight lines to make a grid of smaller squares. He then began setting the carved pieces up along the bottom.

"Chess!" Anna suddenly exclaimed. "You made a chess set?"

"Listen to the copper drop," he said with a grin. "Yeah. I thought before how you said we didn't have anything to do, and I remembered playing chess at yours, so there you go. Sorry it took me awhile to get them done but we've been a bit busy, you know."

"Finn, that's sweet," she said, still smiling. "Thank you."

His eyes glittered and he looked pleased but said nothing.

"I still need to find something for a proper board, but this will have to do. Now, why don't you take black—it suits your cruel heart."

He smiled and continued setting up the makeshift board. Anna's mouth opened in surprise but she leaned in and gave him a full thank-you.

_"Mm. _So, Immy and Ajantis, eh?" Finn said.

"So it would seem," she said.

"Gods, I hope not. Could you imagine the colour hair their poor kids would have? Frightening."

Finn clucked ominously and shook his head.

"It's your move," Anna replied, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.


	54. The Gathering

Anna expected them to move the next day but no one mentioned departure. It surprised her but then she knew as well as any of them how much they needed a rest. She stayed curled up in her warm bedroll till the sun crept up the trees, feeling pleasant and cocooned in her blankets.

That guilt eventually washed over her though and she sat up and looked around at the village. Jaheira noticed her and approached with a ball of clothing under her arm.

"I see you are awake. Do you have the soap?" she asked.

"Yes, in my bag," Anna responded, crawling out and reaching for her pack. "Are you going to wash clothes?"

She feared a sarcastic comeback but the druid simply answered in the affirmative.

"I should see to that myself—by Chauntea, when we get to the city all my clothes are going straight to the rag man," Anna laughed. "I don't think I've ever been in such a state."

Her enchanted robe alone was still mostly in one piece after travel and battle, the rest succumbing to stains and tears too numerous to count. Anna had begun to think her repairs with thread and needle were starting to outnumber the original stitching. Jaheira though seemed unimpressed.

"When you have travelled as much as Khalid and I you will be used to wearing your clothes down to threads, I'm sorry to say. There is much life left in those yet."

.....

Anna didn't reply but gathered up her few spare things and the little box of soap and followed her down to the brook that flowed by the camp, to a place where it ran shallow and the clean water flowed swift. Jaheira kneeled at the stream-side, rolled up her sleeves and swiftly began drowning a tunic in the water.

"I thought Khalid normally did this?" Anna asked, trying to be friendly.

"We take turns. Although it does seem to be Khalid's turn more often than not."

She looked up to see a mischievous glint in her eyes. Anna smiled to herself, stuck her fingers into what was left of the slimy soap and rubbed it into her spare shift.

"You enjoy it here, don't you?"

"I do," Jaheira replied with a quiet smile. "It reminds me of home. 'Tis a simple, fulfilling life—we moved with the seasons, a part of the balance and beauty surrounding us. Nature provided all and we wanted for nothing. I miss that at times."

Anna nodded and began rubbing her shift against a rock. As the two women worked Jaheira sang an elven song to herself.

"That's pretty," Anna commented.

"It is. My mother often used to sing it to me when I was a child."

"Your mother was an elven druidess?"

Beyond the fact that she was a druid of Tethyr Jaheira had rarely spoken of her time before the Harpers, and though Anna was curious the woman's general manner tended to belie asking.

"She was indeed an elf, but neither of my parents were druids. The grove took me in when I was a girl," she replied unexpectedly.

"Really? I didn't know you were adopted."

"Taken in," Jaheira corrected. "I was more than a child when I came to live with them, but I took their ways to heart."

She squeezed out the tunic forcefully and laid it flat on a rock to dry in the sun.

"What became of your parents, then?" Anna asked quietly.

"They were lost during the Ten Black Days, when the commoners of Tethyr rose up as one and slaughtered the ruling nobles and their families," she said in a level tone. "My father was a human nobleman with a grand estate and extensive lands. He was a kind man and he treated his vassals well, but the rabid madness went on unabated."

.....

She sighed a little and began on another tunic. Anna was surprised by her revelation but she still shuddered.

"I am—sorry. I've heard tales of those times. They say the workings of dark gods may have been to blame, and I would believe it."

"As would I," she said grimly. "That night is burned into my memory. Dozens of torches drawing nearer through the trees, like wicked eyes. It was the silence that frightened me the most—one would expect a mob to scream and shout, but they did not. Nothing could be more sinister than that silence. My mother sent me away with a loyal maid in hopes we could escape. She would not leave my father. I did not want to leave—I fought and screamed but I had to obey. We fled through the woods only to look back and see the manor in flames."

Anna bit her lip, wondering again if a background of trauma was a necessary part of an adventurer's life. Jaheira though continued in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The maidservant managed to find a grove of druids who dwelled part of the year in my father's lands. They were on good terms with my family and agreed to shelter me, at great risk to themselves. I know not how many others paid the ultimate price for such kindness in the chaos that followed the king's death."

Jaheira's earlier concerns about the druids came to Anna's mind. The woman went quiet but her hands never stopped moving at their task.

"Did you have no family left that could harbour you?" Anna asked.

"My father's family was all but destroyed," Jaheira said. "And my mother's family has never truly accepted me—relations with them have been 'polite' to say the least."

"All our families are gone," Anna found herself saying. Jaheira shook her head.

"Not all. I have learned since then that family is not bound by blood. I have a wide family, scattered across many lands," she said, a tone of conviction in her voice. "There has been great loss in my life, but always have I been surrounded by love. I am thankful for that."

Anna managed a little smile.

"Your parents loved each other, then?"

"Yes, although it was an...unusual pairing. The relations between elves and humans in my country have been rife with conflict—at one time kings even encouraged the hunting of elves as vermin, a crime that has not passed from elven memory. Neither family approved of the marriage but they would not be apart. They loved each other deeply, this I know."

"So there is at least happiness in their tale."

"More than you might think. Sad as their fate was, I cannot help but see some hope for my nation in their lives. _Bah," _she said, suddenly interrupting herself. "But perhaps such thoughts are better left to the bards."

Anna grinned at the woman's rejection of her descent into sentiment. She was surprised that Jaheira found herself speaking so freely of her past, but perhaps her new-found ease and the rhythm of washing played their part.

.....

"From what I have seen, you and Khalid are worthy enough of song yourselves," she said.

"I hope not," Jaheira replied, though there was a glint in her eyes. "We Harpers prefer to keep our deeds private."

"Well, you may retire one day and find the warmth of a bardsong comforting," Anna laughed. "What became of your estate? Have you never sought to claim it?"

Jaheira shook her head. "It was broken up in the years that followed, the remaining riches scattered amongst my surviving relatives. The land perhaps I could have, but what use would it be to me? There was naught but a burnt-out shell of a home left behind."

"I'm sure there must be trees," Anna said. "It would be something for you and Khalid to pass on."

"There are no children accompanying us, as you may have noticed," she said, growing somewhat prickly again.

"No, but you might—"

_"No!"_

Jaheira spoke so strongly that Anna stopped and stared at her.

"Well, I suppose not everyone wishes to have children," she stumbled.

The druid said nothing, her mouth a tight line. Anna meekly went back to her washing and wondered how her rather innocent statement could've caused such a reaction. They continued their work in silence, but after a moment Jaheira flopped down a pair of trousers with as much force as she'd spoken.

"This is...foolish. I am sorry, I did not mean to snap at you," she said.

"It's alright," Anna said. "I shouldn't have pried."

"No. But being here, in this place...it recalls many memories."

Anna glanced up. "You can tell me if you wish, but you don't need to. I'm not offended by silence."

Jaheira smiled wearily but went back to her washing.

.....

They said little else and Anna's few clothes were soon left to dry. Quietly she excused herself and wandered back into camp, still mulling over Jaheira's reaction. She had the feeling that more grim tales lay behind it though and she wasn't in a hurry to press for more. Back amongst the huts a slave man rose and spoke earnestly to her.

"Here now—what's this about we've got to stay here while you run back to the city?"

That revelation had brought a variety of responses from relief to agitation and Anna didn't much feel like running over the debate again.

"I'm sorry, but we think it's for the best. I'm sure you must want to see your family but we need to learn more about who might be behind the slaving, and we'll need to be discrete as possible."

"So you've said. But how do you plan on proving anything without any testimony?"

"Well, I—"

"Exactly. We've been talking it over, and we think the ones who're up to the journey ought to go back with you. We could go straight to the Fist—"

"Who might well be corrupt," Anna interrupted.

"Maybe. But you can bet if they won't hear us we'll take it to the court of the people. We'll tell our tale in every tavern and every streetcorner in town, they won't be able to ignore us then."

"But that's exactly what we wouldn't want," Anna said. "We don't want to breathe down their necks—"

"Well maybe we do, aye?" the man exclaimed. "We've been down in that hole for months, some of us. We deserve a little justice."

"I agree," Anna said firmly. "And that's exactly what we're going after. But you'd only end up hurting your cause—"

"Ah, bloody adventurers and your 'cause'," the man spat, and Anna winced. "We're flesh and blood people here, you can't just order us around."

"You're right, we can't," she replied. "You can do as you please, we're not your keepers. But we've spent enough of our own blood to save yours, and if you can't accept that we're trying to help then there's nothing more we can do."

Anna locked eyes with him and the man's expression turned sour.

"Bloody adventurers, got heads too big for your helmets," he continued. "But you're the ones with swords, we're just some poor sacks of meat. Who cares what we think? Have it your way then, bitch."

He spoke the last word with emphasis and Anna stepped back like she'd been hit.

"Such words are not called for. You will not speak to her in such a way again," a cold voice said.

Anna turned to see Kivan walking up, his face dark as his tone. The slave looked at him and flinched.

"Right. I reckon you know best, gov'nor. Sorry, missus," he said, but a hint of an angry sneer still crept out.

"Those here have much experience in dealing with such situations, and it would be wise to heed them," Kivan continued. "In lands where the lawgivers answer to none careless words may see you in chains, or worse. But Anna is correct—if you do not agree with our decisions you are free to make your own. We shall travel to the city and act on your behalf, regardless."

.....

The slave muttered something and wandered off to escape the elf's glare. Anna drew a breath and turned to him.

"Thanks for that. I suppose he was just...upset."

"Perhaps, but there are no excuses for such words," Kivan replied.

"Words are not the worst thing I've been struck with lately," she said. "What is that you have?"

She noticed the elf holding a bundle of herbs covered in cascades of tiny white blooms. He held it up so she could examine it.

"It is called _nialote _in the elven tongue, the weeping flower. Melvan called it fallen stars. Do you not know of it? It grows in the canopies of old trees, very good for cleansing the blood."

"That's what it is?" Anna said, interested. "I do know it, but I've never seen it fresh. It doesn't grow around Beregost."

"No. It is said it only grows on trees that have seen four hundred summers—I saw none so old around your home."

"Unfortunately not, the trees around there are kept mostly for timber. Have you been out with Melvan?" she asked.

The grove elder's son-in-law and the elf seemed to develop something of a friendship in the short time they'd been at the camp, and the pair had spent a good deal of time together exploring the local woodlands.

"Yes. I do not believe I have ever met a human who is so swift in climbing trees. He can nearly best me."

Kivan spoke with grave praise and Anna laughed a little.

"I suppose it's inevitable, considering where they live. They're bound to appreciate the forest."

"Living amongst the forest does not necessarily imply respect, but I have always found druids to be goodly folk," Kivan replied. "Would you see that this is dried? A dwelling needs repair and I have offered to help."

"Of course," Anna said, taking the bundle.

The elf nodded and turned to go, but she suddenly spoke.

"Kivan—does that mean you're coming with us?"

"What?"

He looked at her and she found herself flushing.

"You said 'we' would be going to the city, I just wondered."

Kivan paused for a moment, seemingly considering his own statement.

"Perhaps it does."

He left without another word. Anna realised that she and the elf had just spent more time in conversation than they had in total since Tazok's camp. With a quick sigh she went off to tend to the herbs.

......

They wouldn't have time to dry naturally so Anna borrowed a small flat stone for the purpose. She lugged it a ways from where the druids' pots were boiling, then dug a narrow pit and lit a fire underneath the stone. She sat carefully watching that the leaves and flowers would not burn. A little magic aided the process along and slowly they shrivelled. She tested them from time to time by grinding a leaf between her fingers. When they crumbled like last year's autumn leaves she swept them into a fresh sack.

Glancing up she noticed Imoen walking by. When their eyes met though the girl quickly looked away.

"Imoen, would you give me a hand with this?" Anna said.

She sat down across from her with a thump.

"What do you need?" she said sharply.

"Nothing, really," Anna said. "I just wanted to show you a spell to help with drying herbs. It can come in handy when you need components in a hurry."

The thought of a new spell seemed to perk the girl's interest but her shoulders still shrugged indifferently.

"It's a spell of desiccation," Anna continued. "It removes water from anything you cast it on. This is just a mild spell though, you wouldn't want anything too powerful for this work."

"Or in my reckless hands," she remarked dryly.

"Imoen, what's the matter?" Anna sighed.

"Nothing. Not a thing."

"Oh, give over," Anna said, leaning back from the rock. "Finn told what you said about Ajantis and me—I don't know why it would concern you, but you've been acting strange for a while. You don't really think there's something going on between us, do you?"

Imoen shrugged again.

"I suppose not. But I don't get why he acts that way around you, anyway. What makes you so special?"

Anna looked up, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, we're from the same class I suppose," trying to ignore her rude remark. "I take it you have some interest in him, too?"

She tried to smile but Imoen just looked annoyed.

"Yeah. I'm in a different class, all right."

.....

Anna's jaw clenched. Though Imoen was a bright, independent girl she'd learned that she was just as capable of regressing backwards in maturity when she chose. Her little jokes and pranks were easy to smile at but causing trouble between her and Finn she didn't take as well.

"Imoen, this attitude isn't going anywhere. I'd like us to talk, but we can't if you insist on sitting there and sulking like a child," she said. "Tell me what's on your mind."

Imoen looked like she'd swallowed something sour but she let out a sharp breath.

"I don't know. It's stupid."

She drew her knees up and rested her forehead on them, leaving Anna looking at the purple kerchief that covered her red braids. The mage sighed.

"You know, when I was at the academy I fell madly in love with a student there. He was a half-elf, from one of the wealthiest families in Waterdeep. He was just so...dashing," Anna laughed a little. "All the girls fell for him. He never paid the slightest bit of attention to me and I was too shy to try and catch him. But then he started taking notice, walking with me, bringing me flowers, things like that. I couldn't believe it. I was on the moon! But oddly enough all his conversations seemed to end up with alchemy. Turns out all his dashing behaviour had cut into his study time and he needed my help with a particularly sticky examination."

"So you helped him brew a potion that turned him into a toad, I hope?" Imoen said from between her knees.

"Alas, no. I helped him with what he needed, hoping that he might suddenly open his eyes to my charms. But the next time I saw him he'd glued himself to that snooty Mercia Velden, with her ridiculously oversized...anyway, you get the point. I cried for days, it was awful."

_"Hrm," _Imoen muttered. "Does this story have a moral?"

"Not really. It was horrible and embarrassing. But the point is I haven't thought about him in years. It felt like my world was ending, but I got over it. I wouldn't worry too much about Ajantis—you'll move on soon and forget all about him."

....

"What makes you think I need to move on?" Imoen suddenly said, raising her head. "He hasn't ditched me for some girl with big bosoms, as far as I know."

"So there is something between you?" Anna said, surprised.

"Well, I—" Imoen began. "No. But there _could _be."

"What has he said to you?"

"Geez, is this an interrogation? I plead not guilty," she said, shifting uncomfortably.

_"Imoen," _Anna said.

"Alright, so there's nothing _definite_, okay? But a girl can flirt a little, can't she? You never know."

"Of course, but...to be honest, I'm not sure how much he appreciates your style. He's a gentleman knight, after all," Anna said, trying to sound diplomatic.

Imoen blew a raspberry. "Whatever. I think he likes having his feathers ruffled. Something he's not used to, right? But I don't really want to talk about it anymore. You've got your romance, why do you need to meddle in mine?"

"Meddle? I'm not meddling. I'm just giving some advice, that's all," Anna said.

"Or maybe you just don't like his attention going somewhere else?"

"_What? _Imoen! I told you—"

"Oh, come on! I see you smiling at him, and it doesn't look just friendly," the girl said, warming. "You've got Finn. Leave it at that."

"Imoen...I do like Ajantis, but not as you seem to think. But...does it really seem like I'm flirting?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, I'm not," Anna said quickly. "To be honest, I'm surprised you fancy him yourself. He doesn't seem like your—type."

Imoen glared at her. "What? A gentleman?"

"No. But he is a bit—stuffy. And he's a good deal older than you."

"Well, opposites attract and all that. Besides, who else is there here to flirt with?" Imoen declared. "There's my brother, a henpecked husband, and two elves that spend their days looking down their long noses at me. I don't have too many options."

"Is it really that important?" Anna asked. "We're not exactly in the setting for romance most of the time."

"Obviously it's important," she replied. "Every woman wants a beau, right? You're not one to talk, anyway."

Anna cleared her throat. "Do you not like Finn and me being together?"

"Sure," Imoen said, pulling her knees to her chest again. "I didn't mean that. But Finn's like my friend, you know? We've always been mates. Especially now that we're away from home, after everything that's happened.... And since you've been together I just feel a little—extraneous. The third wheel."

"You're still friends, nothing's going to change that. Besides, he was with Safana before me. And by the sound of it he wasn't exactly lacking in female attention before her," Anna said a bit grimly. "Why the problems now?"

.....

Imoen said nothing, instead picking up a stick and drawing a pattern in the dirt. Anna thought then how awkward it must be for her at times to be at that age, surrounded mostly by people who were older and more experienced that she was. And the fact that her brother seemed to be leaving her behind must have made it worse. She'd mentioned before that she was tired of being the little girl in the group, but that transition couldn't be an easy one.

"That was different," she finally said. "They weren't ever serious. And Finn used to say nasty things about Safana behind her back. He really likes you though. But you didn't hear that from me."

Imoen laughed a little and looked down.

"No," Anna promised. She felt a warm sensation rising and she smiled. "But you don't need to chase after Ajantis to hold your own."

"Guess not. But I kind of like him, anyway. He's all—noble. Damn Safana, for running off with Coran!" she said, her tone growing brighter.

"What—you didn't fancy him too?"

"Who wouldn't? He was beautiful! The handsome rogue, straight out of a storybook, right?" A sly look came over Imoen's face. "You know—he kissed me in the woods one time."

"What?" Anna exclaimed. "When?"

"Long time back. Although, I suppose it was more of a quick peck than anything," she admitted. "He said it was for having hair like strawberries. What a loon!"

The girl turned pink and Anna laughed.

"Well, at least he didn't steal something of yours for a kiss."

"He kissed you too?"

"He tried!"

"What a bastard," Imoen said with gravity.

Anna laughed, a deep laugh that made her wounded side hurt. She rubbed her eyes though and let out a mild curse realising the batch of herbs had turned crispy brown.

"Maybe we should get on with that spell now, don't you think?"

Imoen grinned and helped brush the over-done leaves from the hearth.

....

The girl departed with a brighter walk than when she'd arrived. Anna watched her go with a slight sigh; she had her doubts about the basis of Imoen's feelings for Ajantis but there wasn't much she could do. Little would be gained by 'meddling' as she said—Imoen needed to work that out for herself.

While she was packing up the last of the herbs a slave woman came and knelt quietly nearby.

"I'm sorry that Derrol had a go at you," she said. "He didn't mean it, I know. He's a good fellow. We're all thankful for everything you've done for us. It's just...pretty hard right now."

"It's alright," Anna said. "Don't worry. I didn't take it to heart."

"That's good," the woman said. "Listen, though...do you think maybe you might go and see my sister when you get to the Gate? She'd be worried sick about me, I know. My husband died awhile back and she's been looking after my kids while I earned some coin to get back on me feet. My poor babies don't know where their mama is. Please?"

The woman's eyes were earnest and pleading and Anna sighed a little.

"I'm sure I could. Who's your sister? Where does she live?"

"Oh, thank Ilmater. Her name's Lin, she's a fishwife in the docks. Just ask around, you'll find her easy enough. Gods...you know, if Harry hadn't died none of this would've happened," the woman continued. "He didn't earn much, but with me washing bringing in a few coins it was enough to put a roof over our heads. We even had our own place, with three whole rooms. I always thought we was doing really well, but that's gone now."

"I'm sorry," Anna said.

"Me and all. He used to work on the riverboats till they ran aground one day—and my poor Harry couldn't swim. Can ye believe? Man can't swim, takes a life as a sailor. But the worst of all was when the bastards he worked for said the crew was to blame, and they weren't going to pay out any pensions. Recover the cost of lost goods, like. Me and the other widows went down there screaming but the Seven Suns was bolted up tight. Never saw a copper out of them," the woman said, shaking her head.

"Seven Suns?" Anna asked. "Isn't that one of the big merchant houses?"

"Money-grubbing arsehole houses, if you'll pardon my saying," the woman said vehemently. "Aye. They used to be a stand-up outfit and all, Harry thought he was really lucky to get a job working for them. But times change."

"Surely taking pensions away is illegal, though. Didn't you see a solicitor?"

The woman scoffed. "Solicitor? We could barely put food in our little ones' mouths, never mind paying a lawyer's ransom. There wasn't a damn thing we could do in the end but move on."

Anna tried to give the woman a sympathetic smile, thinking that the pursuit of coin left people with a lot to answer for.

.....

Glancing up at the sky she saw the sun was dropping close to the western treetops. At once she remembered her washing, and after stowing the freshly-dried herbs in her pack she hurried off to the streamside.

Her socks were where she left them but alarmed she noticed that her shift was gone. Perhaps it heard her talking about sending it to the rag man and decided to run away, Anna thought grimly, though most likely a strong breeze had blown it into the stream. Grumbling to herself she followed down the riverbank, her eyes peeled for the wayward shift. She bore little hope of finding it but she felt like a fool for losing half her wardrobe, and she needed to at least try.

She eventually spotted the cream-coloured linen, though not in a shape she expected; it was sitting properly folded on a rock a safe distance from the water. With surprise she saw Xan standing over it, drawn blade in his hand. The sight puzzled her enough that she stood silently amongst the bracken, clutching at her socks.

"Have you missed that? I found it in the water snared on a branch," the elf explained, sheathing his sword.

"Oh," Anna replied, still wondering why Xan felt it necessary to stand guard over her underclothes.

"You need not stare, I was only practicing," he said dryly. "Not the most stirring sight but it is necessary."

_"Ah_, of course you were," Anna said, suddenly snapping to the realisation. "Thank you."

....

The elf made a short noise and she bent to pick up her shift. It was dry and thankfully seemed clean, or as clean as it was likely to be anymore.

"I don't think I've ever seen you practicing with your blade," Anna commented. "You never join the rest of us in sparring."

_"Er_, no, I prefer not to," he said. "It is a rather...particular thing."

"Afraid you'll best us?" she said with a little smile.

"Hardly," he snorted. "The opposite, in fact."

Anna glanced at him, and despite his brusque tone she thought he seemed almost embarrassed.

"Why would you say that?" she asked. "You're very good with a blade, especially for a mage. Do elven mages normally study swordplay?"

Xan gave her a look, seemingly weighing the statement for sarcasm.

"I thank you for the compliment, but I am no Bladesinger. I'm afraid I can take little credit for whatever skill I have. It is the blade—through meditation it becomes attuned to its wielder, becoming the ideal weapon for whomever holds it."

"But still, you must have trained."

"Yes, but that is a story of little interest."

He spoke in a flat tone and looked past her at the trees. Anna bit on her lip, feeling awkwardness growing like a fog. Their uncomfortable conversation was still fresh in her memory and she wished she could teleport herself back to camp, but somehow turning on her heel and fleeing again seemed even more awkward. She chided Imoen to act like an adult, perhaps she should take her own advice for once.

.....

"You could tell me. I'd like to hear it," she said.

Xan didn't look pleased by her answer but let out a resigned sigh.

"Very well, though there is little to tell. When I first claimed my blade the swordmasters of Evereska offered their services to help me develop the skill to use it effectively. It was not a...natural skill, however. If ever a more awkward student fumbled with a weapon in their hallowed training halls I cannot imagine. I dreaded those lessons, and by my teachers' faces I gathered they soon began to feel the same."

Anna laughed a little. "Oh, surely you can't have been that bad."

"You might be surprised. I, however, was not," Xan sighed again and his face grew thoughtful. "I used to watch my father sparring when I was young. I remember being in awe at his skill with this incredibly beautiful blade—like a streak of moonfire splitting the air around him. Few could best my father. But even then I knew I would never match his prowess, not if I lived for a thousand years."

The thoughtful look faded, replaced by a sour expression.

"I don't know," Anna said. "I think you might've inherited more of his talent than you think."

"You are ever determined to find the positive, aren't you?" he said.

"No, I was being honest," she replied, a little surprised by his tone. "Why—did you think I was making fun of you?"

Xan shook his head but the look on his face almost made her believe that he had.

"Regardless, I would prefer to carry on now, if you wouldn't mind," he said.

"Alright," Anna said. "By the way, I'm—sorry about the other night. I know you only wanted to help, but I've just been a bit...jittery, lately."

She tried to laugh but it came out rather nervous and short. Xan glanced at her.

"Don't concern yourself, I should not have mentioned it. I shall mind my own affairs from now on."

"It's all right, you can say what you think," Anna said. "But—you aren't scared of something, are you?"

Her voice ended in a slightly high pitch.

"What?" he said sharply.

"I don't know," she said to the ground.

Xan was quiet, and glancing up she saw a strange look on his face.

"No, Anna, there's nothing," he sighed. "Now if you'd excuse me."

Anna nodded and returned to the camp, still clutching at her clothes.

.....

Finn saw her step from the trees and hurried up to her, an excited look on his face.

"Hey, where have you been?" he asked, catching her in a kiss. He didn't wait for an answer. "Guess what? I was talking to the slaves, and they know the foundlings' home that Gorion took me from. It's a temple of Ilmater near the eastern wall, called Saint Gelemain's. Been there for ages, apparently. What do you think?"

"That's wonderful," Anna said. "But didn't you know where it was before?"

"No. Gorion only said it was in an old temple of Ilmater, and he's a popular god. There's more than one temple to him in the city, I've heard. But now I can go and ask them about my parents."

He spoke with an almost childlike enthusiasm. Anna's smile grew wider and she ran a hand through his hair.

"Will you come with me?" he asked eagerly. "I'd like you to."

"Of course," Anna replied.

"Great," Finn said. "I can't wait. I always said it was the first thing I'd do when I left the keep."

.....

They walked away together, Anna listening to Finn's gleaned details of the temple as she packed her clothes away.

"Was Gorion a follower of Ilmater?" she asked during a pause.

"No. He revered Oghma, like most of the monks at Candlekeep," Finn replied, dropping himself down onto the ground and stretching out.

"Interesting. It is odd that he'd think to look in a temple of Ilmater for a child to adopt, though."

"I reckon. But Ilmater is the god of the dispossessed, his followers are more likely to take in orphans and the like."

_"Mm," _Anna agreed, sitting down next to him. "Do you worship Oghma as well, then?"

Finn rarely mentioned gods and she'd long thought to ask him that question.

"I suppose so," he said casually.

"You suppose?" she replied. "Don't tell me—you're not faithless, are you?"

"Afraid for my soul?" he laughed. "Don't worry, I'm a believer. Gorion brought me into the church when I was a lad. I like Oghma, he seems like he has a sense of humour. But I never could whip up anything like a religious fervour."

"That's a shame. It can be a beautiful part of life," Anna said.

_"Hmm_—maybe I should convert and follow a certain fertility goddess. They've got some interesting rituals, I hear."

He grinned at her and she gave his nose a tweak.

"You shouldn't be so flippant," Anna said, though she was smiling.

"I'm not really. It's just that I have a hard time believing the gods care about every single thought we mortals have, you know? And I don't think they have the control over things people like to believe. Sometimes things just—happen."

"An odd thought for someone who grew up in Candlekeep. Aren't the monks there supposed to chant Alaundo's prophecies endlessly?" she said.

"Don't remind me," Finn grimaced. "It used to drive me mad. I couldn't think of anything more pointless—just write it down! I could recite them myself by the time I was five. _The Lord of Murder shall perish, and in his death he shall spawn a host of mortal progeny..._enough already, we get it!"

"They were right, though," Anna said. "The dark god is dead."

"I guess. That's why it's a prophecy, eh?"

He leaned back and shut his eyes while Anna ran her hand over his brow.

_"And the Coast of Swords shall run red with blood," _she repeated thoughtfully. "Do you ever think, maybe that's happening now?"

"What?" Finn said.

His eyes opened and he started.

"All these bandit attacks, the murders...maybe it has come to pass."

It seemed so obvious once she thought of it, but the idea was new to her and she felt a chill run down her spine. Finn only shrugged.

"And there was supposed to be Bhaal's children running all over the place too. Where are they? We'd know if we saw them, they'd have glowing eyes or horns or some such. These bandits doing the killing are all just ordinary blokes, and they're no children of the gods from what I've seen. It'd be a pretty damn sad god if they were. They're thieves and thugs, that's all."

"You're probably right," Anna conceded.

She continued caressing Finn's brow in silence. He bit at the inside of his cheek and watched the pinking clouds floating overhead, but whatever he was thinking he kept it to himself. He sighed and took Anna's hand, pulling her down to lay in his arms. She shut her eyes and cuddled up against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.


	55. True Faith

Early next morning they bade the druids farewell. At least a day's march lay ahead of them before they could hope to clear the trees and though their stiff muscles urged them to stay the party couldn't linger any longer.

The slaves remained behind. There still was no consensus amongst them, but in the end the chance to lay still for even a little while overruled their objections. Anna glanced back before the trees hid the camp; they still sat huddled together as if bound by invisible chains, cowering under borrowed hoods and blankets. A long time would pass before that bond was finally broken.

.....

The northern side of the forest seemed less hostile than the south and the creatures they encountered refreshingly scampered away from the group rather than try to take a good look at their innards. The change in atmosphere was noticeable and Anna walked with ease despite the weight of pack, blankets, and every other pouch and bag she'd been porting up and down the coast.

Perhaps it was down to the druids' good cooking but she felt a happiness growing inside that she hadn't felt in some time. Their battles were behind them now; true they had to face the Flaming Fist, but even if they were corrupt what could they expect to do? They could pass on what they knew, that was all. Even Finn's bounty was a thing of the past. Their work was done. Unbelievable it seemed even a fortnight ago that they could accomplish that impossible task they'd set for themselves, but it was true. Anna kept repeating the thought to herself and a little smile grew as she gazed up into the trees.

"Hey, I hope it's me you're thinking of," Finn said.

She turned to see a grin on his face and her smile grew wider.

"You might say that," she replied. "I was just thinking how good it feels to be free. No more battles, no more fights, nothing."

Finn whistled. "You're telling me. I feel like I can stand up again."

To demonstrate he stretched his back languidly, but his pack threw him off-balance and he stumbled.

"Alright, so it still needs some work," he joked.

"All the gold we've earned, you'd think we could've bought a mule at some point," Anna laughed. "I think I'm at least two inches shorter!"

"Mule, eh? What do you think you're here for?"

Finn gave her a playful nudge, sending the pots strapped to her pack into a clatter. Anna squealed in protest and pushed him back but his feet caught on a root and he lost his footing entirely, ending up clinging to a sapling that looked nearly fit to snap from the weight. Seeing Finn's face as he lay tangled in the tree Anna stopped and let out a belly-shaking laugh.

"Now you're in for it," he threatened. "Just as soon as I—damn branches, let go!"

He managed to yank himself free but not without bringing the leaves and twigs with him. They stuck in his hair and in the straps of his pack, framing him in odd bits of green. Anna stared at his new decorations and laughed even harder.

_"Mph, _it's the King of the Wood himself!" she declared. "Greetings, your majesty."

"Yeah, and you're mocking him, peasant! Come here," he laughed.

Anna jumped back as he darted at her, but the same wayward root caught the King's foot making him stumble again. She doubled over nearly blind with laughter, sending the pots into another burst of cacophony. Finn caught her waist but Anna let out another squeal as he managed to send them both tumbling to the forest floor. They lay tangled up and laughing like fools until Jaheira's stern voice finally forced them to their feet.

........

The day proved hot though in spite of the shelter of the trees and glancing up Anna could catch a glimpse of hazy sunshine. The oppressive air felt like rain but the few clouds still masked their intentions. As they sat eating their noon meal she listened to the buzzing of summer insects while repeatedly wiping the back of her neck with her kerchief.

They'd met with the same creek that flowed past the druid camp, and watching its cool-looking water trickle by made Anna's hot skin itch. She'd been desperate for a bath but with the crowds of druids and slaves she never found time at the camp. After eating she excused herself from the others and wandered a ways down its bank, secretly looking for a private place.

A nagging little voice told her that she was wandering too far from camp but she ignored it; the woods nearer civilisation seemed safe so far and that grove looked little different. At last she found a pool and eagerly pulled off her boots and robe. Just a quick dip, she'd be back before anyone noticed she was gone. She unlaced her dress, but hesitated at her shift. It wouldn't have time to dry, but what if someone came looking for her? She glanced back towards camp. The bushes stayed still and all she heard was birdsong. A wave of boldness hit her and she swiftly removed the garment and stepped naked into the water.

The stream felt wonderful on her bare skin. She bobbed near the surface before ducking her head entirely under the water, feeling the delightful coolness soaking her hair. Bracing herself against the light current she leaned back and gazed up into the hazy blue sky. Everything felt light and peaceful. Anna began to imagine that she was a naiad, mistress of her own perfect pool in the middle of an enchanted wood.

....

A sharp noise tore her from her thoughts. Alarmed she crouched in the stream, straining to hear it again. The noise sounded once more, hollow and long. Underneath it she heard another noise, sharper and shorter but repeated again and again. The noises were drawing closer. With a gasp she recognised them and tore from the pool like a madwoman.

There was no time to dry and she struggled trying to work the shift over her wet body. Peering through the neckhole she listened in panic as the noises came closer and closer. She yanked and tugged at the fabric and managed to pull it on just as the bushes rustled.

A brown blur burst forth snorting and sweating. Anna didn't move—she'd never seen a live boar so close but she knew how dangerous they could be. It ran past her to the stream but stopped at the bank, tossing its long tusks in the air as it weighed its options. Anna tried to step back, realising that she was now trapped in between the boar and the sharp cries of the pursuing hounds. She felt a bramble bush at her back though and stopped as the thorns began to prick through the thin fabric. The boar noticed the movement and with a loud squeal it whirled and charged.

Anna had no time to think. She raised a hand and in a flash a bright burst of energy struck the creature. It halted and rubbed its poor burnt snout into the grass, grunting in agony. The dogs were nearly on top of them and Anna hesitated, praying the beast would turn and run. It didn't. In its madness it charged at her again, and another missile sent it to the ground once and for all.

The bushes shook again as the pack of hounds came leaping from the undergrowth. Their thin backs circled Anna and the boar as they sniffed and barked in excited confusion at finding their quarry dead on the ground. One hound jumped up on Anna, his legs long enough to reach her shoulders. She pushed it away as it sniffed her face, taking care to avoid its spiked hunting collar.

_"Stop that! No!" _she cried, not at the hound who left muddy paw prints on her shift, but at another who'd discovered one of her boots.

It paraded around with the prize until a fellow hound decided he was unworthy of the honour. The leather disappeared in the scuffle and Anna cried out even louder seeing another dog flailing her robe like a whip.

She waded into the sea of hounds, shouting at them as much as she dared without earning herself a bite. The dogs took up the game and taunted her as they scampered around the circle, waving her clothing just beyond her reach. She managed to recapture a sock and her dress but the hound who had her robe flatly refused to return it. Anna let out a desperate curse at the animal but he paid no mind as he bounced merrily along with it between his teeth.

_"You—you worthless mangy cur! That's worth more than your hide!" _

......

Anna stood bolt upright though hearing the distinctive sound of a man's laughter. She whirled expecting to see Finn, but her answering retort died on her lips as she looked upon a stranger.

The man was mounted on horseback and clearly noble, with a short hunting cape and jacket sleeves striped in silk and velvet. A cap perched rakishly on his brown hair and heavy spurs clung to his polished boots. He dismounted and called to the hounds. They heeded their master and he pulled her now rather slimy clothes from their mouths. His eyes ran over Anna and she turned even redder realising how she must have looked.

"Well, my boys, it looks like you have caught a vixen!" the man chuckled. "I didn't realise they were in the habit of changing in the woods."

"My robe, if you please," Anna replied, trying to muster what little dignity she had left.

The man looked like he might let out another remark but he stepped forward and gave her the clothes. She snatched at them, doing her best to avoid the tall man's gaze.

"Thank you," Anna said primly. She stood still though, holding the bundle of clothes to her chest.

"Are you not going to dress?" the man asked.

"I would prefer to have more privacy, sir," she responded.

"Most women ask for privacy when taking their clothes off, not for putting them back on."

Anna gave him a sharp look.

"It is not a gentlemanly thing to mock a lady's predicament."

"Then I beg your pardon, my lady," the man said. "Although I might likewise gently suggest that it is not a ladylike thing to go bathing in the Dukes' private hunting grounds."

"This is the ducal forest?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes, for use by the Grand Dukes and their retainers. All others are trespassers. I don't suppose you know that the penalty for trespassing is a public whipping, do you?"

Anna glared at him again and he chuckled.

"Never fear, my lady, I shall keep close the knowledge of your crime. But tell me, why are you here? You do not have the manner of a gypsy, yet I cannot imagine a lady straying so close to Cloakwood."

"I am a traveller, sir, that is all. We did not realise this was the forest of the Dukes. We shall be gone soon."

"So you do have companions, then?" the man said, interested. "I am glad to see the lady does not travel alone, although one icy stare from your eyes would give any foe pause. I would be honoured if you would allow me to escort you back to them."

Anna bristled again at his mingled compliment.

"I thank you, but that will not be necessary."

"Oh, come now," the man laughed. "I am sorry for teasing you, but even you cannot deny that there is humour here. Surely it is better to laugh it away?"

Anna glanced up at him and saw that he was smiling warmly. He was quite handsome after all, with an unusual but pleasant accent. She felt her irritation fading and a small smile crept out.

"Thank you sir, but no. My companions are not far, and you seem occupied here."

"If you insist, my lady. Though I am pleased to finally see a smile grace your lips, it has brightened this most dreary hunt more than I can say."

Anna blinked in surprise as the man lightly took her hand in his large glove and kissed it before sweeping into a bow. She turned pink again but curtseyed as best she could, forgetting for a moment that she was less than half dressed. A bit of a smirk crept over the man's face but he swiftly mounted the horse and clucked to the hounds.

"I shall give you your privacy now. Good afternoon, my lady. May we meet again."

He touched his cap and rode away through the trees, leaving Anna staring after him.

.........

Shaking herself she scrambled into her clothes as quickly as she could, though she was still working the laces when Kivan burst through the trees, bow in his grasp.

_"Yallume,"_ the elf said. "Here you are. We heard horns—what has occurred here?"

His eyes ran over the tracks on the ground, but he noticed her dressing and his face fell.

"It's—nothing, Kivan. Just a hunting party," Anna said, not in a hurry to fill in the gaps.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yes, it's fine, don't worry," she said quickly. "Nothing happened. But we're in the ducal forest, we should probably step carefully from now on. I've heard their gamekeepers set out man traps to catch poachers, and the last we'd want is to find ourselves in their teeth."

"And you should not wander so far from the others. It is a bad habit of yours," he remarked.

"I have to say I agree with you," she said, letting out a loud sigh. She tugged her bootlace tight. "Come on, let's get back."

........

In camp Anna explained the events, leaving out as many details as possible but fortunately no one asked why she'd wandered off. Instead they took up their packs again and hurried to make their way out of the woods.

The evening grew nearer but they didn't stop and make camp as usual. Anna's stomach began to growl but she kept forcing one foot in front of the other. To add further insult the clouds that had been thickening all day suddenly burst, sending a squall tearing through the trees as the party tried in vain to find shelter. Lightning crashed and the rain pounded but thankfully it passed swift as it arrived. Afterwards the air was more humid than ever and Anna prayed they would stop soon.

Like a miracle though the trees suddenly parted, making way for the wide paved road that crept up the coast like a snake. Anna walked with new energy and after a time she began to see the lights of a village flickering in the dusk up ahead.

A row of stone houses and shops lined the road on either side. The shutters of the houses were open to the warm air and Anna couldn't resist glancing inside as they passed, regarding the common families that sat in candlelight as some sort of higher beings. A guard with a lantern wandered past in the street but didn't stop to question them. One building loomed larger than the rest and the numerous bright windows marked it as the village tavern.

.......

The inn's entrance was on the road, thankfully sparing them the need to face the ostler's questioning—Anna had learned that parties arriving on foot were generally considered worthy of great suspicion by the stable-keepers. They stepped through the open door into a common room that echoed pleasantly with the talk of locals and travellers. A few curious eyes glanced their way but seeing the party's weapons they quickly dropped down again.

Looking at the patrons it struck Anna just how filthy-looking their band was and she drew her cloak tighter in embarrassment. Braids and cloaks couldn't hide the fact that they'd been living in the wood for months. But even if they were clean they'd have been worthy of stares; with elves and knights and a mage all followed by a chirrupy red-haired girl they were hardly a usual group of travellers. But they were hungry and tired as any group, and they sat themselves down at a corner table while Jaheira bartered for rooms and ale.

"The innkeeper had four rooms spare," she reported afterwards, "Although two of them are in the garret."

"I shall take a garret room, it does not concern me," Ajantis immediately offered.

"Guess that means I'll be up there too," Finn muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"I suppose we can take the other," Xan said. "Kivan and I would have less time to spend on a hard pallet than yourselves."

Kivan didn't respond but his mouth twitched and he reached for his wine.

.....

Their meal was a simple stew of mutton and vegetables but Anna devoured hers thinking the court of kings couldn't have served anything finer. She quickly followed it down with a mug of the landlord's strong brown ale and Finn chuckled at her.

"You know, when we first set out you were one step away from asking where we hid the napkins. And look at you now."

Anna wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and gave him a look.

"I was never like that!"

"Sure you weren't," he laughed.

"I do not know that the death of manners is something to celebrate," Xan remarked.

"Aren't you hungry?" Imoen said, eyeing his barely-touched food.

"Not especially, no," he replied, trying to liberate a lone slice of turnip from the mutton that surrounded it.

"Can I have it, then? I'm starved!"

Xan's eyebrow raised. "By all means," he sighed, sliding the offending dish towards the eager girl.

"How far are we from Baldur's Gate?" she asked between mouthfuls.

"We should reach the ferry tomorrow," Jaheira replied.

"Ferry? Oh, right, I'd forgotten about that," Imoen said. "I remember being on it before with Gorion. He wouldn't let me out of his sight, he was so afraid I'd drop into the water."

She laughed with the memory.

"Knowing you, you were probably teetering over the edge the whole time," Finn said. "I'm surprised he didn't keep you on a lead!"

Imoen made a face at him but turned her attention back to Xan's supper.

"The ferry pilots are notoriously high-strung, you'd better watch yourself this time around," Anna joined in. "They might just leave you on the bank for good."

"Oh, who could leave this face behind?" she chirped. "But why don't they have a bridge, anyway? Bothering with a ferry seems like a waste of time."

"The currents of the River Chionthar are constantly shifting, making it difficult to build," Ajantis said. "But I would imagine the true reason is for defence—a bridge for the merchants could be used by an army just as surely."

"An army from Amn, I'd assume?" Finn said.

"Amn would have little to gain from attacking Baldur's Gate," he replied, looking stern. "Nought but endless leagues of wilderness stands between my nation and the city, and we have troubles enough of our own from the south. There has always been peace between the two, even if the Grand Dukes have little liking for Amn's claim over Nashkel."

"But you could see why they are concerned," Anna added. "Beregost isn't far north of Nashkel, and from there an army could march to the city in a fortnight. It is not so far as the leagues suggest."

Their proximity to Amn had ever been a talking point in the taverns of Beregost, and listening to some people one would be forgiven for thinking the powerful country was constantly on the verge of annexing the undefended town. Anna had always dismissed the rumours but with the crisis she privately began to wonder.

"I might agree, but nothing I have heard in the halls of the Council of Six has led me to believe Amn has any designs on this coast, my lady. Your fears are not founded," the knight said.

"If only m-more believed that," Khalid said. "The rumours of w-war can be destructive in their own right."

"Indeed, although perhaps we should leave off this conversation," Jaheira said low. "Certain ears have pricked up every time the name of the country to the south was mentioned."

Anna glanced around at the tables next to them; the occupants looked disinterested but she knew that appearances could be deceiving. The party fell silent and finished off what was left of the meal.

........

A short while later she opened the door to her and Imoen's room, revealing two single beds that were nearly touching in the small space.

_"Yay," _Imoen exclaimed, throwing herself down onto one. "No offence, but I'm glad we have separate beds. You're a blanket-hog."

"Oh? Well, you talk in your sleep," Anna rejoined, tossing her pack down on the other.

"Seriously? What do I say?"

"I'll save that for when I need to blackmail you for some coin," she laughed. "Now, who's having the first bath?"

"Me," Imoen volunteered.

"I'll flip you for it," Anna grinned.

"No chance, you'll conjure up a two-headed coin or something. Now fetch the water, girl, chop chop!"

Imoen clapped her hands imperiously but let out a squeal as Anna's spare socks came flying her way.

......

Leaving Imoen to bathe Anna gathered up her writing materials and headed back to the common room. She wanted to send at least a brief note to Maya, though the true chronicles of what she'd seen since leaving the Friendly Arm would fill a volume.

The room was largely empty now; the locals had mostly returned home after their evening jar but a few travellers still sat at table. Surprisingly though she noticed Xan sitting at their same table. He'd gone upstairs with the rest and he wasn't in the habit of spending more time in the common room than necessary. Even his ever-present spellbook was missing and he sat with his chin resting on a hand, looking out the open door as though he expected someone to appear. Though he looked even less inclined to conversation than usual Anna thought it would be rude to sit anywhere else, so she gingerly sat down at the table.

"Are you expecting someone?" she asked, trying to sound friendly.

Xan jumped a little at the sound of her voice.

"Who would I be expecting? No one knows we are here," he replied.

"No," Anna sighed. "That's why I want to write this."

She spread out the rather wrinkled parchment onto the table and began working the sealing wax off the inkbottle.

"Ah. I shall give you some privacy, then," the elf said.

He began to rise but Anna suddenly laughed heartily to herself.

"It's nothing," she said in response to his look. "Just that isn't the first time I've heard that today. There was this man—oh, never mind."

She broke off and laughed again, thinking how ridiculous she must have looked to that nobleman. Xan sat back down and rubbed his forehead.

"You do find some rather odd sources of humour, if you'll pardon my saying," he said.

"I can't deny it," Anna said, wiping an eye.

On a whim she revealed the tale. Xan looked surprised but by the end there was a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.

"Gods, I hope I don't see him again," she said with a chuckle. "I'd melt into the earth. If we do, you must promise to steal the memory from him."

"Consider it done," he said.

"Why are you sitting out here?" she asked again.

It occurred to her that the elf didn't even have his usual glass of mead in front of him. The humour in his face exchanged with a frown.

"Do I need permission to stay in the common room?"

"No, of course not," Anna replied. "But you rarely do."

The elf let out another sigh. "Kivan did not find the garret much to his liking, and he has gone to spend the night amongst the trees."

"Oh," she said, thinking his reply didn't answer the question.

......

Xan at once sat upright, his eyes focused on the door. Anna turned to see what caught his eye. An elven woman stepped over the threshold, pausing long enough to shake free the dark locks that had been flattened by her hood. She noticed Xan looking at her and smiled warmly, bowing her head in greeting. She walked past them though towards the bar and was joined a moment later by an elven man. Xan slumped backwards in his chair with a sigh.

"Were you looking for company?" Anna said with a little laugh, unsure of what to make of his reaction.

"Don't be absurd," he said, glaring at her.

"She is very pretty," she continued. "I think you'd be allowed to have an interest."

"Attractive and accompanied, as you've likely noticed. Besides, even if she were on her own I would hardly swoop in like an eagle to the kill. I am not Coran, thank you."

"No, you're entirely unique," Anna laughed, earning herself another look. "But where's it written that you couldn't spend an evening in conversation?"

"I do not think she's much interested in that," he said dryly.

"Mm, perhaps not," she conceded, glancing at the pair who yielded to one another's embrace the moment they sat down. "Still, you looked quite keen for a moment."

She wet the end of her quill and gave him a little grin. Xan looked sour.

"Anna, despite your notion that I've been lingering here like a pathetic fop seeking romance, I can assure you that..."

"Yes?"

He groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"Ah, what is the point? As you have guessed, I was expecting someone. Although to say 'expected' implies I had any true hope they would appear. Still, I had managed to convince myself enough that I have been sitting here like a fool, as you have cheerfully noted."

"Who were you looking for?" Anna asked.

He sighed and shook his head.

"The innkeeper mentioned an elven woman had taken a room here, and by the description..."

"So you were expecting a lady," Anna said, an impish grin on her face.

"_No,"_ Xan said firmly. "Not as you are thinking. A contact, one of my own. But they are likely gone. Foolishness, as I said."

"Oh. Would they not be in the city, perhaps? If your people have an interest here it doesn't seem like they'd just leave you to deal with it, not that you couldn't manage of course," she said, regarding the elf's look.

"Why not? They sent me here on my own, and I could not believe—but never mind. I shall communicate with my city soon, and try to relate this strange web I have wandered into."

.......

Anna gave him a small smile and glanced down at her still-empty paper. Xan bit thoughtfully on his thumb, looking at the empty table like it might relate the mysteries of the universe at any moment. She looked up again though, surprised to see the elven man approaching them.

_"Vedui', heru en amin," _he spoke, managing a little bow. _"Veme'amin_...ah, forgive me. My wife and I wish to know you would take wine with us. We are most honoured, _heru en amin."_

He seemed to lapse into halting Common for Anna's benefit and bowed again. Xan let out a little sigh.

_"Mae govannen, Quessir. Diola lle. _I am honoured you have asked, but I am retiring for the night. Please give my regards to your fair wife."

The man looked disappointed but bowed once more and returned to his table.

"You could go with them if you want," Anna said. "I don't mind."

"No," Xan sighed. "They likely just wish me to regale them with tales of my many grand adventures. They seem quite young," he said thoughtfully, looking over at the pair. "I wonder what brings them to travel on this dangerous coast, so far from our lands."

"The wanderlust of youth, I suppose," Anna remarked. "But what makes you think they aren't from here?"

"He was not used to speaking Common," he sighed again. "I wish—no. Good night, Anna."

Xan rose up from the table and gave her a slight bow before retreating up the stairs. Anna glanced over at the young elvish couple. They seemed to recover well from the wielder's rejection; their heads lingered close as they whispered and laughed to one another, drinking their wine from the same cup. Anna let out a little sigh and went back to her letter.

.......

She left the note with the innkeeper, who promised to send it on with a caravan travelling south. Anna said very little beyond that she was well and they expected to be in Baldur's Gate by the morrow. She couldn't imagine how to relate anything else to the housekeeper, and the story of how they'd been caught in a thunderstorm ended up using the most ink.

After taking a proper bath Anna departed the room again. Imoen collapsed into a well-deserved sleep but Anna found herself feeling restless. The rain had come again, gentler this time, and the sound of it pattered against the stones of the courtyard like thousands of tiny feet. Something about the rain at night always called to her and she drifted into the empty hall.

A dark figure sat under an alcove by the window. He turned at the sound of her step and reached out to her.

"Hey, there," Finn said quietly.

Anna responded by placing a kiss on his head and she leaned against his shoulders, looking out the window.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked.

"There's just one chair," Anna replied.

"It's all we need."

Anna smiled to herself but sat down in his lap. Finn drew his arms around her and they both sat looking out over the dim courtyard, lit only by a few lanterns in the rainy night. A cat slipped out from under a wagon and disappeared like a silent bolt to the shelter of the eaves. A light breeze came through the leaded windows and brought the thick scent of damp air. It was cool and Anna pressed up against Finn.

"I hope I smell a little better for you now," he said with a laugh.

Anna smiled, drawing in the scent of soap that lingered on his warm neck.

"That goes the same for me," she replied.

"You always smell nice."

"And you're a very polite man," Anna laughed quietly.

He squeezed her closer and they were silent again. The rhythm of the rain and the warmth of his body were soothing and Anna felt her eyes drifting shut.

......

"You're not nodding off on me, are you?" Finn asked, caressing her hair.

_"Hm?" _she started. "No."

"Good, cause I think my legs are starting to fall asleep."

Anna laughed and began to rise but Finn pulled her back.

"Naw, I'm alright. Stay awhile, it's nice here."

"Mm," she agreed. "These little roadside taverns can be cosy. Or proper fleabags!"

"I'm glad we got the first one," Finn laughed. "Have you stayed here before?"

"No, it's too close to the city. The caravans I travelled with usually passed it by."

"Baldur's Gate tomorrow. I can't believe it," Finn said.

"It has been the longest trip I remember," Anna said, laughing a little. "Usually they're pretty dull."

"What can I say—I'm an exciting fellow to be around. But what's it like there, in the city?"

She looked up at him, surprised at the question.

"It's—just a city, really. I don't know what to say. There's a lot of people and a lot of houses. The Hall of Wonders is worth seeing, though I haven't been in years. I forget you have been there," she added.

"Haven't been there, haven't been anywhere. I can't wait," Finn said.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to travel after all this."

"Maybe," Finn replied, growing enthusiastic. "I used to spend hours pouring over old maps. I've always wanted to go up the coast, to Waterdeep, all the way up to Neverwinter even. Then maybe take a ship back down through the Moonshaes, heading down to Calimshan. Have you ever been?"

"To Calimshan?"

"Anywhere," Finn laughed.

"Not really. I studied in Silverymoon, but my father insisted I be teleported there. I've been through Cormyr and the Dales and the lands in between heading out to this coast, but that's all."

"That's all? That's pretty impressive."

"It would sound grand on paper," she remarked. "In truth it's mostly a lot of trees and dusty towns seen from the back of a carriage."

"I suppose," Finn said.

Anna squeezed his hand and tried to smile, though she had a sinking feeling in her heart.

.......

"But I don't know how practical it all is," he sighed after a moment. "A man needs an occupation of some sort, wandering aimlessly seems a bit pointless after awhile."

"Many have made their fortune adventuring," Anna said.

"And a lot more have ended up a permanent feature in some ruin, I'd imagine. Besides, I'd reckon you and Imoen would get fed up with being dragged through the gutter."

"Me?" she said.

"Well...yeah. Wouldn't you want to go?"

He glanced at her, looking somewhat surprised.

"I...don't know," she hesitated. "I hadn't thought about it."

"No. Guess I haven't really, either," Finn said slowly. "Well, I don't think we're going anywhere anytime soon. Winter will be here before you know it, and it's not the best time for heading north. Besides, I'm sure there'll be plenty in the city to keep us occupied."

"Yes," Anna replied.

Finn pulled her close again but they were both silent. She had thought about Finn leaving, but hearing him actually mentioning plans made her heart flop. But why not? Nothing tied him to the city, or even their part of the Sword Coast. He could leave anytime he chose, and in truth there was little reason for their group to stay together now at all. But his almost innocent assumption that she'd join him on his travels came to her as well and the conflicting feelings struggled to level out. On impulse she reached up, and drew his mouth to hers.


	56. Black and White Town

Anna didn't mind Jaheira's early knock pulling her from bed; Finn's excitement over finally reaching the city was infectious and even Imoen leaped up without being prodded.

"What time do you think we'll get there?" the girl asked, tugging on her boots. "Will the shops still be open, do you think?"

"Not till the afternoon, I'd say," Anna responded. "I'm sure they'll be...why, what did you want to buy?"

"Anything they've got!" she laughed. "I've never had so much gold in my pockets and nowhere to spend it. What about minstrels, do you think our inn will have any? I'd love to do some dancing!"

Imoen burst into song and did a quick whirl around the room with an imaginary partner.

"I don't know, you'll have to wait and see," Anna laughed in return, shaking her head at the girl's early-morning enthusiasm. "Come on now, get packing!"

.......

They ate a quick breakfast and set off towards the city. After so much time in the trees the world revealed by the morning sun seemed almost alien—houses and cleared farmland lined the road, and the buildings even miraculously gathered together to form a few villages that could be spotted here and there. The pleasant clatter of carts and other travellers passed them by and Anna revelled in the various mundane sights of civilisation. At noon they rested in the shade of a grove while watching a merchant caravan approaching from the north.

"How many's that?" Finn asked, straining to count the wagons. "Eight, ten?"

"A dozen, _mellonamin, _with men on horseback besides," Kivan responded.

"The troubles really must be over," Imoen said. "That's the third one we've seen this morning."

"Not entirely over. I overheard a merchant complaining in language I would not repeat that his horse's shoes had turned to rust," Ajantis said.

"That was his trouble? One would think the entire horse had disintegrated by his volume," Xan remarked.

"This iron plague will likely be with us for some time, even if the perpetrators are finally brought to justice," Jaheira said.

"They'll be in the stocks before long though, you bet!" Imoen exclaimed. "We'll see to that, right?"

"The gallows are more likely," Jaheira replied, her tone growing serious. "And it is worth repeating that until justice is done we should keep ourselves to ourselves. We should not advertise our deeds, or even our names...especially you, Finn. The one who issued your bounty may be dead, but I have an uncomfortable feeling your name may be more public than we would like."

_"Hrm," _he responded, biting on his thumb.

"Do we need false identities?" Imoen offered.

"No, likely not," Khalid said. "But bear in m-mind that our names may be known. We should k-keep our heads down."

"Yes," Jaheira agreed. "Those who committed these acts would not appreciate our asking questions, and if by chance the Flaming Fist are corrupt we should take extra care."

"Is that the conclusion you have reached?" Ajantis said sombrely. "There is nothing to suggest that they have played a part in these troubles, and I would prefer to have proof beyond speculation before we accuse such an honourable organisation of being thoroughly corrupted."

"Calm yourself, my good knight," Jaheira replied. "I agree we have nothing but rumours, but the possibility is worth bearing in mind. Money has a way of weakening even the staunchest of hearts. We should be aware to whom we speak, and of what we speak. Mind that and hopefully we will avoid much trouble."

Anna felt her enthusiasm waning. The Harpers were right but their reminder brought back that their mission was still dangerous, and worse, dangerous in an entirely new way. Whatever they faced now wouldn't be solved with a simple fight. She'd been looking forward to the release of the city as an end to their troubles, and she felt a kind of anger at being faced with something she knew deep down but didn't want to acknowledge. She glanced at Finn and his eyes told he felt the same way. She tried to smile though and squeezed his hand in hers.

.........

After eating they travelled on but Khalid spoke up.

"Is that t-trouble ahead?"

Strangely Anna could make out a number of immobile wagons alongside the road, pulled up in a rather haphazard fashion. Recent experience made her tense but Kivan spoke.

"Trouble I do not know, but they do not seem to be in danger. Perhaps they have stopped to rest."

Before they could reach the caravan though the drivers whipped up the horses. They creaked by with a nod to the party but nothing seemed amiss.

"That is new, is it not?" Jaheira commented after they'd passed.

"What is?" Anna asked.

"That," the druid replied, pointing to a pile of rocks alongside the road.

By the dirt and moss that still clung to their undersides the stones were recently dug out of the farmers' fields. On the top flat rocks had been laid to make a level surface, on which perched a curious bundle of logs nailed together to resemble a chair. Two tall, stout logs stood upright on either side and various trinkets and bits of food were laid out along the stones.

"A shrine to Shaundakul?" Kivan said, surprised. "I have seen them in the lonely places, but never so near to a city."

"Nor have I," Jaheira said, caressing the stones. "But with the loss of Waukeen the travelling merchants must have turned to the Rider of the Winds for protection. The gods know they would need it of late."

"Indeed. Many of the Waukeenar of Athkatla have taken up the worship of Lliira in her stead, though there are some who say the devotion to such a frivolous goddess may bring more harm than good," Ajantis remarked.

"There are worse gods they may have turned to than the Lady of Joy," Anna said.

"And more relevant ones, my lady. It seems my home has become little but the staging ground for endless balls and masquerades. They seem ever-determined to drink away their troubles rather than strive to resolve them," he sighed.

"A common theme, I must say," Jaheira replied with a sigh of her own. "But come, we should be on our way."

The party turned back to the road but Anna saw Imoen slip a coin next to the other offerings.

"Well, you never know. Can't hurt, right?" the girl said with an apologetic shrug. Anna smiled back but said nothing.

..........

The road travelled over gentle hills and at the top of one Imoen finally exclaimed that she could make out a tower. From each rise Baldur's Gate grew nearer; grey towers and walls rose up from the hills, the wide blue of the River Chionthar glittering in the sun as it flowed towards the sea. Anna began to make out a smudge of chimney smoke lingering over the outlines of individual buildings as the road finally rolled down to the flat land before the river.

The ferry port itself was hidden by a riverside village but the noise reached them well before it came into view. A queue of horses, men and wagons lined the riverbank waiting their chance to cross—dogs barked, mules brayed and travellers shouted and sang while hawkers patrolled the rank, selling their wares to whoever felt loose with their coin.

The party took their place in the genial chaos and Anna covered her eyes against the glare to look out over the water. The wide river was sandy-bottomed and dotted with small islands covered by scrub. Although much of the land had been cleared the riverbanks were still lined in tall trees, and their leaves rippled in the breezes.

In the deep water boats cut through the currents and now and then a distant cry could be heard. Seagulls hovered over the busy docks of the city, looking like the children of the white-sailed ships that moored there. One glided over them and Anna fancied its keen black eyes regarding her until it drifted back over the river, finding little of interest in the waiting crowd.

Jaheira and Khalid waited patiently, the crossing just another point in their many travels. Kivan though kept his head in his hood and looked like he was considering the nearest escape route back to the trees. Glancing at him Anna wondered if he'd ever even been inside a human city before. Xan seemed more relaxed in the crowd than his kinsman but still kept his cloak drawn around him, likely to hide the sword that drew looks wherever he went. Imoen however glanced around excitedly and offered up comments on the other travellers that Anna wished she'd make with a bit less volume.

........

A young woman walked past with a wide basket, holding it at an angle so they could see the fruit within.

"Lovely sweet oranges, m'lord?" she said, smiling at Finn. "We've just got them in this morning, fresh as can be."

"I've not had an orange in some time," Ajantis spoke up. "Are they from Amn, my good woman?"

The girl's face fell. "No, sir, they're not. We're patriotic around here, we are. Our oranges come by boat from Calimshan nowadays."

The knight looked put out but Finn chuckled slightly.

"I'll take three off your hands. How much?"

"Nine coppers, m'lord," the woman replied.

"Nine?" Finn exclaimed.

"It's a long way to Calimshan, you know. Three's a fair price—markets in town are asking five, I hear."

Finn grumbled to himself but counted out the coin into the girl's waiting hand.

"A sad day it is when fruit can be considered worthy of patriotism," Ajantis remarked sourly when the girl had past.

"They're likely from Esmeltaran the same as ever," Anna said, taking the bounty Finn offered. "It's just a convenient excuse to push up the price."

Ajantis smiled and looked out over the river.

"I wouldn't put it past her, she looked like a conniving little fox," Imoen said, peeling away at the orange. "Would you like some, Ajantis? We can call it a little taste of home."

The knight smiled again and graciously took the offered fruit. Imoen looked pleased and happily shared out the rest of the orange with him. Anna and Finn chatted while they ate, stepping aside and leaving Imoen and Ajantis to their halting conversation.

........

"Hey, look, the ferry's coming!" the girl finally exclaimed, pointing the sight out for her companion.

Anna turned and craned her neck to see. The flat-decked ferry boats were operated as much by men with long poles as their sails. Skilfully the pilots edged the barge up to the dockside and after mooring they threw down a wide wooden ramp, allowing the wagons and travellers to disembark.

"Well, this is it then. Come on," Finn said, regarding Anna with an almost nervous smile.

The pilots poled away from the dock and Anna felt that strange watery motion under her feet. The sails flapped and the sailors shouted to one another as they caught the sea breeze that pulled the ferry against the currents towards the city. Anna and Finn stood near the bow and watched as the buildings and ships grew larger. Soon the noises of the town were clear and Finn gave her a happy grin.

"I think we might get lost in all those ships there," he said, eyeing the tall boats that were lined up along the quayside. "I hope they watch where they're going!"

"Don't worry, the ferry landing is on the opposite side of the Wyrm," Anna replied, smiling. "We should be safe."

The pilots again docked the ferry with alarming speed and herded the passengers over the gangway like cattle. Anna wasn't a stranger to the city docks but she still paused for a moment before stepping into the hubbub, like one might do before plunging into a cold pool.

The long stretch of Wyrm Island acted as a natural dock for the city, giving ample space for trade but still keeping most of the riff-raff outside the grey walls across the channel. Rather than feel the slight though the denizens of the docks revelled in their separation and lived almost independent of the main town. They were cheerful and hard-working in the main, but they also gave a home to bear-baiting and other less salubrious activities that would never be openly tolerated within the city itself. The balance seemed to work though and despite frequent moral cries to clean up the island the residents carried on as they always had.

The party landed in the peak of afternoon and the narrow streets were packed with people of all description, each hurrying on their business as if driven by invisible whips. Carts and wagons filled with merchandise rattled by, never cutting their speed for the pedestrians who dashed in and out between their wheels. From a nearby pub came smoke and the sounds of music and loud laughter. Ragged-looking children happily chased one another around boxes and idle wagons, the chaos just serving as an ever-changing playground for them. The buildings on either side of the street seemed exhausted by the activity and leaned in slightly towards the cobbles.

"_Um_, where now?" Imoen asked.

"We should find an inn," Jaheira replied.

A rat catcher hurried past, his trophies swinging by their tails on the stick he carried over his shoulder. She threw him an iron look as he jostled them too near for her liking but he seemed too wrapped up in his business to care.

"I usually stay at the Blade and Stars," Anna suggested. "It's clean and quiet, and the rooms are fair."

"That sounds reasonable," Ajantis said. "I lodged in the palace when last I stayed, although I would not want to impose on the hospitality of the Dukes."

"Are you serious?" Imoen commented. "Why not ask? I'm sure they could squeeze us in!"

"One does not just show up and take a berth at the palace," Jaheira said, looking slightly amused. "And the landlord of the Blade and Stars often has company of a...less respectable nature."

"What sort of company?" Anna asked sharply.

"Never mind," the druid replied. "Although I wouldn't suggest you stay there in the future. We know of some places, however. Now come, I have no wish to stand here like a group of gawking farmers longer than necessary."

.......

She took the lead and the others followed after her, looking around them like children on an outing. Finn grasped Anna's hand and he kept stumbling into her as he glanced at the sights. His eyes never seemed to look down though and Anna had to steer them several times around fly-covered heaps in the street.

They passed through the winding streets to where the water halted them, then onto the stone bridge that lead into the city. Ever-mindful of defence the stone ended just before the fortified gate tower, replaced instead by a wooden drawbridge. Two alert-looking watchmen sat in guard stations at the end of the stone.

"Oh, gods," Imoen exclaimed under her breath. "Tell me—please don't say those are what I think they are."

Anna glanced to where she pointed and felt her stomach turn. The sight of dismembered heads of executed criminals dangling from the Wyrm's Crossing was nothing new, but she'd never seen so many. They lined the tower like foul fruit, the chains that held them waving in the breeze. Some were stripped down to the skull but others were clearly new and hungry birds pecked at the feast. Together they gave the solid grey tower the appearance of a fiendish temple.

_"Thaurerea," _Xan muttered. "What brings these so-called civilised Dukes to display the heads of their victims like ogres I do not know."

"They are bandits?" Kivan asked, his keen eyes regarding the gruesome decorations.

"Bandits and other criminals," Ajantis replied. "Not an attractive sight, but it reminds those who would break the law of the punishment it carries. I trust that their sentence was well-deserved."

"Then I admire your confidence," Xan said darkly.

"You yourself are an agent of law, are you not?" the knight said. "Can you say that you have never ended a life in pursuit of justice?"

"No," he sighed. "But I should hope that I at least do not find it necessary to mutilate their corpses afterwards. Death is punishment enough."

"Can we just keep walking, please?" Imoen spoke. "If one of those lands on me I'm not going to stop screaming for a tenday."

Ajantis gave her a comforting smile.

"Do not concern yourself. The heads are well-secured by hooks, and it is unlikely that—"

"Oh, I don't want to know!"

"Don't worry, Im," Finn said. "If one does fall I'm sure Sir Ajantis here would cover you with his shield, wouldn't you?"

His eyes glittered and he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. Ajantis however seemed less amused.

"Such serious punishment is not worthy of jest. But yes, I would protect the young woman."

"Thanks, it's nice to know that _someone _around here knows how to act like a gentleman," Imoen said to him, before whirling to give her brother a silent raspberry.

"What about you?" Finn said to Anna. "Would you need defending as well?"

"No, letting me stomp your cloak into a mud puddle will do," she said dryly.

"Fair enough," he grinned.

Anna reached up and tweaked his ear. He slid his arm around her and together they walked under the darkened arch into Baldur's Gate.

........

Inside the walls was thankfully less rammed with traffic but the party still jostled to find their place on the streets. Anna looked around at the familiar stone buildings, thinking of the last time she was there. Her holidays were never raucous but that had been an especially quiet trip—the entire city seemed asleep and she spent much of the time in the common room, gazing out the window at stray passing travellers. So dull it had been that she arranged to catch a caravan heading south days earlier than she'd planned. Now somehow the city seemed lively, a kind of energy visible in the people they passed.

The excitement soon began to wear thin though as they went from inn to inn looking for rooms. With trade picking up again the taverns were bursting and none had space for a group of their size. Anna sighed as they left another in defeat, feeling burdened by her pack and the exhaustion of wandering through the crowded and dusty streets.

"Don't tell me we'll need to stay in the docks," she grumbled. "What about the north side of town?"

"I don't think any inn w-with a dress code would let us n-near the place," Khalid said, regarding the patchwork of stains that covered his jerkin.

"Where do you usually stay?" Finn asked.

"With friends," Jaheira replied casually, and he didn't ask further.

"How come we haven't stopped in there?" he offered instead, pointing out a large, rambling half-timbered inn. "We've gone past it twice now."

"That's the Elfsong," Anna said slowly. "A decent inn, but it's a bit—lively."

"Sounds good to me," he replied.

"I think Anna is right," Jaheira said. "There is naught but an endless parade of bards through there, we would be hard pressed to get a good night's sleep."

"Bards?" Imoen piped up. "Yay! We have to ask if they have rooms."

"We are not here on a holiday," the druid reminded her. "We need to keep a low profile—"

"And what better way than in a group of people?" Finn interrupted. "We can keep to ourselves, blend in with the crowd. Besides, if it's really awful we could always find somewhere else."

He gave her a smile and Jaheira's lip curled.

"Very well," she sighed. "But the Elfsong is a popular tavern, we will likely find they are as full as everywhere else."

........

Much to her dismay though the druid found herself proved wrong—the innkeeper reported that a travelling troupe of minstrels had departed that afternoon, leaving a number of rooms spare. With a sour face Jaheira counted out coins onto the bar as he insisted as that they pay in advance.

"Not just for you, m'lady," the man said, noting her look. "Owner's policy. I just manages the place."

Jaheira snorted in reply.

"Will there be music tonight?" Imoen asked hopefully.

"Tonight and every night, miss," he replied with a smile. "You'll not find better entertainment anywhere in the Gate than the Elfsong."

Xan groaned. Anna glanced at him but his face said more than he was ever likely to.

"Well, we are here now," Jaheira sighed. "We can settle ourselves and drop these blasted packs, at least."

The bartender rang a bell, and a bright-looking lad appeared and showed them up several flights of a heavy staircase to their rooms. He drew open a door for Anna and a little part of her danced in happiness at seeing a single bed.

"Khalid and I have something to attend to," Jaheira said quietly. "Let us meet in the evening."

Anna nodded in reply but her eyes were on her room. She glanced around though when the door slid open behind her.

"So this is where you are?" Finn said from over her shoulder, giving her a look. "I'll keep it in mind."

"The door locks from the inside, my good man," she replied airily.

Finn laughed and she kissed him before pushing him back into the hall.

.......

Anna let her pack slide down with a thump and looked around the room in satisfaction. The chamber was small and plain, typical of inns up and down the coast. Its only furnishings were a narrow bed, a chair and a wash stand, but at that moment it seemed like a piece of heaven. Whatever they now faced, at least they could do it in one place.

She glanced out the window expecting to see an alley but was surprised to find herself looking out over the city. Smoke curled out of chimneys over the slate roof tiles, fading away into the blue sky above. The city rose up slightly on a hill and on the upper side she could see the large homes of the wealthy, their walls protecting the luxurious private gardens within.

The maze of twisted streets was cut in two by a heavy stone wall, acting as much to keep the 'better' citizens away from the lesser folk as protection from an invading force. Above them all though stood the palace of the Dukes, in reality a tall fortified tower that dominated the surrounding buildings. She stood for some time at the window, looking out over the city with interest.

Finally turning away she was pleased to find the pitcher filled with water. Anna poured some into the bowl, splashing her face again and again to wash away the dirt of the afternoon. She heard a rap on the door though and reached half-blind for a towel.

"Hey," Imoen said when the door opened. "Do you think the kitchen would let me press this?"

She held out a well-wrinkled bundle of blue fabric that Anna recognised as the dress the girl bought in Beregost.

"You still have that? I haven't seen you wear it," the mage commented. "But you don't need to press it, just ask one of the maids."

"Yeah, it tends to look a bit worse for wear all squished in my pack," Imoen said. "I wanted to change into something nicer though. Will they do it for me? I didn't think about that, I'm used to doing the ironing myself."

"You're not a maid here," Anna laughed back. "I wish I had something to change into, but for now my robe will have to do."

"You could always point the way to the nearest market," the girl replied with a grin.

"I'm too tired for shopping. How about tomorrow? I know a dressmaker who can do up a frock in an afternoon."

"Sounds good," Imoen said. "I'll see you later!"

The girl bounced off down the hall and Anna smiled to herself as she shut the door.

........

She intended to spend the rest of the afternoon napping but another knock sounded, and she opened the door to see Finn.

"I think I'm going to see if I can find that temple," he said. "Do you want to go?"

"Right now?" Anna asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah, I just want to see where it is. It's probably not too far from here, aye?"

"No. Alright, I'll go."

"Great!" Finn said, looking excited as a child.

They set off together through the streets. Anna pointed out a few landmarks where she could remember them but Finn only nodded in reply, his eyes seeing something she couldn't. After a couple of missed turns they found the temple of Ilmater. It looked more like a disused warehouse than a church—green mold from the damp crept up its plain stone facade and if its windows ever held glass they were long missing, replaced instead by a simple wooden lattice. If not for the painted sign of bound hands above the door Anna might've thought they had the wrong building.

They stepped inside and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light. The temple was empty and echoing and their steps magnified against the stone floor. A few spare torches lined the walls, illuminating rows of rough wooden benches gathered around a centre dais. Behind it empty, broken shackles were fixed into the wall.

Finn stopped and looked around, almost in awe of the simple temple.

"To think, I was here as a little lad," he whispered.

"Does it look familiar?" Anna asked.

Finn's face fell and he shook his head slowly.

"No. I thought—I'd hoped I remember something, you know? Like coming home. But...I don't know."

"Well, you must have been very small, it's not surprising you couldn't remember. Maybe it will come to you. Come on, let's look for a priest."

.......

Finn nodded but said nothing. They saw a few commoners offering private devotions, but no clerics. Together they walked through the temple, pausing to look at the plainly painted frescoes of various martyrs for the faith.

"Being a priest of Ilmater looks like rough work," Finn commented quietly, regarding the graphic tortures.

"Bear the sufferings of others upon you," Anna quoted. "It's selfless, if nothing else."

"Hm," he replied, but pointed down a hallway.

Somewhere in the austere building came the sounds of children's laughter. They followed it until they reached a small chamber. The door was open and they peeked inside; a number of children in simple garb sat on the floor, surrounding a young cleric.

"Now," he said to them. "Merchant Tom is selling apples for three coppers a peck. The cook has asked you to buy two bushels for pies. How much coin will you need?"

The children's heads lowered as they pondered the question.

"Four and twenty coppers," a girl spoke up.

"Very good, Lise," the priest praised her. "Or you might bring...?"

The girl opened her mouth but a boy jumped in.

"Two silver pieces," he said quickly.

"Quite right, Bel, though it isn't polite to interrupt," the young man said.

"Sorry, sir, but isn't it bad of this Merchant Tom to charge three whole coppers for a peck? I know old Martha sells them for only two," the boy said matter-of-factly.

"A fair point," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "But that's enough arithmetic for today, it's time for chores."

The announcement brought a collective groan from the children but the priest raised a hand.

"I forgot to mention I saw Nellie frosting some buns earlier—with a bit of _manners _I think she might be persuaded to part with a few. Now go on, with Ilmater's blessing."

The revelation cheered the group and they scurried out the door with a flurry of quick farewells. The priest chuckled to himself and rose up a bit more slowly from the floor.

........

"Nothing makes them move faster," he said to Finn and Anna. "How can I help you good people?"

"Well, we, _ah_, that's me, I mean—I think I might've been an orphan here," Finn replied, turning strangely red.

"Truly?" the priest said. "It's always a joy when one of our own comes home. Have you had a good look around?"

"Yeah, but nothing really looks familiar," Finn replied with a nervous laugh. "It would've been years ago. I wanted to see...if I could find my parents."

"Ah. Well, you should speak with the Adorned Luval—he's been head priest for years and keeps all the records. I'm sure he could help. Shall I show you to his office?"

Finn stammered again but Anna spoke.

"We would like that, sir, if it wouldn't be an imposition."

"Nonsense! He'll be thrilled. Please, follow me," the priest said.

He headed off down the hall and Anna followed after him, tugging at Finn's sleeve for him to keep up. She was surprised at how sheepish he'd become, but when she turned to give him an encouraging smile she paused seeing how bright his eyes were.

........

They found the head priest in a small chamber. The walls were solidly packed with books and the elderly man sat hunched over one on his desk, his beard nearly touching the paper as he peered at the tome through steel spectacles. The young priest explained their mission and the older man brightened.

"Well, well! You're one of ours? You've certainly grown up tall and strong. Finnigan, eh? Can't say as I remember the name, but then whoever took you in might have given you a new one."

"I suppose he might, sir," Finn said, the idea clearly new to him. "Really I just want to know...anything about my real parents. Their names, anything."

"Not to worry, we can find you by the names of those who took you from here. Who are they?"

"Just one, sir—my father, Gorion."

"Gorion? Any family name?"

"Not that I knew," Finn said, sounding embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. "I just knew him as Gorion of Candlekeep."

The priest paused. "Candlekeep? I never knew any of our children were taken in by a person of such remarkable address. Sadly, few of our orphans are truly adopted by families at all—most are taken to work as maids or apprentices. Do you live in Candlekeep as well?"

"Yes, sir. Well...I used to."

"Then a good fortune to you, that was quite a blessing to grow up within such halls of knowledge. Do you know the year, at least?"

"No," Finn said, looking down. "I'm twenty-one now. I think. I would've been pretty young if I can't remember being here, so..."

"Don't worry, lad," the old man said, giving him a smile. "My books keep track of every mouse that's scampered through here, I'll find you sure enough. Give me a few days to have a good look through my records and I'll tell you what I can."

"Thanks," Finn said warmly. "Thank you."

.......

They turned to go but Anna paused.

"Sir—you don't by chance know of a priest of your order named Rill, do you?"

"Rill? Do you mean Rilliard? Yes, he used to preach in the docks. I haven't heard from him in a long time though, and some say he has disappeared. Do you have news of him?" the elder priest asked.

Anna and Finn shared a look.

"Well, yes. He...he has passed on," Anna said quietly.

"Oh," the priest said, leaning back in his chair. "He was a good man. May he find his way to the Crying God's side. How did he die?"

"Defending innocent people from bandits," Anna replied.

It wasn't a lie, but she still turned her gaze away from the priest's keen eyes.

"I see. We are trained to value the lives of others more than our own, but it is still a shock when one of our kind makes the ultimate statement of faith. We shall say prayers for him at the service tonight. Thank you for telling us, I will see that his family is informed," he sighed.

"Family?" Finn asked.

"Yes, he was a Baldurian from long back. He has children and grandchildren here, and a sister that I know of. But I shall let them know. Thank you again."

Anna and Finn stared at each other but said nothing. She bade the priests farewell and they wandered out of the office, back into the echoing temple. Finn reached for Anna's hand and they stepped back into the light in silence.

.........

"I just made a complete jackass of myself in there, didn't I?" he said after a time.

"No, you were just nervous. It's understandable," Anna replied.

"It's funny, that older priest reminded me of Gorion," he said with a little laugh. "He had those eyes, the kind that can see right through you."

Anna smiled. "Well, hopefully he'll find something."

"Maybe. Gods," he said, interrupting his own thought. "I just get so pissed at the old man sometimes. Why couldn't he ever tell me anything? It was always tomorrow, tomorrow. Why did it need to be a secret? I felt like a passenger in my own life sometimes."

Anna squeezed his hand. "We all feel that way at times. I did...being dragged away from my family, even if it was by my own father. I'm sure Gorion had his reasons, though."

"Yeah, it's always for your own good," he sighed raggedly. "But I guess I shouldn't talk about him that way. He's gone now, and whatever he knew he took with him. The thing is...I think he was finally ready to tell me."

"Really?"

Finn nodded. "Just before he died. After we left the keep I kept hassling him about it—I said I was a man, or as good as, and he couldn't just order me about like when I was a lad. I wanted to know why we were leaving. I had a right to know."

"How did he take that?" Anna asked.

"Not well, as you might guess. But I think he agreed with me. Then we were ambushed, and all this nightmare started."

"What do you think he had to tell you?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. I don't know."

Finn sighed again and she leaned into him.

"Well...wherever you came from, you've had people that care about you. You might not ever truly have the answers, but...you're not alone. You have friends here. That's worth something, I hope."

Finn glanced at her.

"And a bit more than friends in one case?" he asked.

"You know that," Anna replied, turning a bit pink.

"Yeah, but...we don't always set off on the right foot, do we? We always seem to get crossed-up."

"I suppose," she said. His tone was odd and something caught in her throat.

"Well, maybe we should make things more official," he said slowly.

"Why, what...do you mean?"

........

Anna's heart jumped as Finn suddenly stopped in the street and took her hand.

"Tell me, then," he said. "Will you consider me your beau?"

_"Oh, _Finn," she said, swallowing her heart and resisting the urge to smack him across the head.

"No, I'm serious," he said. "I want to lay things out."

"Do you want to court me? Properly?"

"Yes, I do."

His look turned impish though and he went down on his knees, but instead of submitting to a courtly pose he wrapped his arms around her legs. He nestled his chin in her skirts and gazed up at her with a grin.

"What are—? Let go, you daft thing!" Anna exclaimed, trying to pull herself away.

People began to notice them and she glanced around at their amused looks, her face turning even redder.

"No you don't, not till you agree. I can sit like this all night, you know."

"Is this how you normally court a girl?" Anna asked, wobbling in his embrace.

"No, I've never tried this before. Is it working?"

He spoke so levelly that she burst out laughing in spite of herself.

"I think you've taken one too many knocks to the head."

"And I've got a feeling I might be in for another," he laughed back. "But what do you say?"

Anna gave him a look and made a noise between a sigh and a laugh.

"I accept your pledge, good sir. Now rise, you're embarrassing me!"

He rose up and drew her into a deep kiss. Anna wrapped her arms around him in turn, quickly forgetting all about the gawkers.

"I am serious, you know," Finn spoke into her hair when they parted.

"Alright," Anna said, smiling a little. "I believe you."

He took her hand and kissed her fingers gently, caressing each one in turn. Anna's mouth parted as she watched his lips on her skin, but she drew her hand away.

"We should get back to the tavern," she said.

Finn didn't respond but gave her another quick kiss. He wrapped his arm around her and they made their way through the streets towards the inn.


	57. Love and Law

Finn kept his arm around her even after they found their way into the Elfsong's large common room. The place buzzed with activity despite the early hour making Anna feel somewhat disoriented. Through the crowd she caught sight of a hand waving though and they went to sit with Imoen and the others.

"Hey, you," Imoen said. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere," Finn replied. "Are Khalid and Jaheira back?"

"No, they're still on their mysterious mission," she laughed.

Imoen cradled a goblet of wine between her hands and Anna smiled noticing the freshly-pressed frock had made an appearance. She'd managed to curl her hair as well and it hung in pretty ringlets around her shoulders. She gave her a wink and Anna swallowed another smile seeing Ajantis sitting next to her.

Kivan and Xan also sat at table though neither of them looked as pleased with the situation. The ranger had managed to lower his hood at last but he still kept his cloak close around him despite the warmth of the room. He greeted Anna and Finn but Xan scarcely looked up from his drink when they sat down.

"Is that elverquisst?" Anna said, reaching for something to say.

She nodded at the pair of fluted glass goblets sitting before the elves. Taverns she knew would never risk expensive and delicate glass on common wine, and the pure ruby liquid could hardly be anything else.

"Yes," Kivan answered. "The maid suggested it the moment we took our places."

"I guess she knows her customers," she laughed.

"I think I'll stick with ale," Finn said. "Wine?"

"Yes, please," Anna replied.

Finn managed the considerable feat of flagging down a barmaid, who returned with their drinks with an almost remarkable speed. He slipped his arm around her again and Anna inched her chair closer to him, earning herself a smile. His eyes drifted back to the room and they both watched the bustle with interest.

"I wonder why this place is called the Elfsong. Do they have elven bards here?" Finn asked.

"They might," Anna replied. "But this tavern is haunted by the voice of an elven woman."

"Just her voice?" Finn laughed.

"Yes, so the story goes. She was a great beauty and a talented bard. Her lover was a sailor who was forever departing to places unknown and leaving her behind. Eventually they grew tired of being apart and decided to marry—but after he went on one last voyage his ship sank in a gale, as they always seem to do in tales. Every day she sat at the window and looked out over the docks, waiting for a man who would never return. She sang to pass the time, and as it finally became clear that some tragic fate had befallen her love she faded away, till only her beautiful voice was left," Anna said.

"That's so sad," Imoen spoke wistfully. "Don't you think, Ajantis?"

"If it were true," he commented. "It seems every tavern up and down the land has a resident spirit, and without fail they are usually pining for a lost love. Such tales are generally designed to keep patrons intrigued, I would imagine."

Imoen seemed unimpressed by his lack of romantic imagination and her eyes narrowed at him as he innocently raised his tankard.

"But this one exists," Anna said, chuckling. "A bard I know said he once accompanied her on a hurdy gurdy."

"A hurdy gurdy?" Xan finally spoke. "If her disembodied voice truly decided to haunt this inn I should hope that she'd find a more dignified instrument to join in with. They make a frightening noise—I do not know if she were singing or crying out for the bard to cease."

Anna swallowed her laughter in her goblet.

"And who's this bard, eh?" Finn jibed. "Anyone I should worry about?"

"Yes, he's handsome and dashing and has a voice that drives women to madness," she replied with a grin. "You should most certainly beware."

"That's not him, is it?" Imoen asked, gesturing her head with a laugh.

.......

Anna looked up to see an alarmingly fashionable man with a lute stride onto the small stage and seat himself on a plain chair with all the dignity of a king onto his throne. Despite the number of attractive young women who had somehow found seats nearer to the platform he didn't look up as he held an ear to the lute, tuning each string in turn. When finally satisfied he looked out over the crowd, but other than his admirers none of the revellers seemed to notice his presence.

"I haven't seen him before," Anna replied, waiting for the bard.

The performance however didn't begin as expected—instead of taking to the strings the man sat looking out at the chattering crowd as if they were all hurling insults at him. Bemused Anna watched his handsome face growing darker and darker.

"Is he going to play at all?" Finn asked.

The bar manager apparently wondered the same and swept out to speak with him. The stage was too far for the conversation to reach them but by the looks on the men's faces Anna imagined she heard every word. The bard didn't budge and the manager finally sighed and raised a hand to the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen..._ladies and gentlemen! _May I have your attention please...._Oy!" _he bellowed, and the crowd at last began to fall silent. "The Elfsong has the pleasure tonight to present to you one of the finest lute players of Waterdeep..._er, _what was the name again?"

He turned back to the man and the crowd tittered. The bard looked even more sour but leaned forward and spoke.

_"Ah,_ yes," the manager continued. "Please give a warm welcome to the _lutenist_ Eldoth Kron!"

The response couldn't exactly be called warm but apart from a few cat-calls the audience clapped good-naturedly. The bar manager strode off with a shake of his head and the bard finally drew a breath and began to play.

Surprisingly his skill belied his attitude and Anna listened in delight as his fingers ran like water over the strings, coaxing forth remarkable melodies. He began to sing a sailor's lament in a rich tenor, the rhythm of his voice mimicking the rise and fall of the waves. The crowd seemed to forgive him as well and reduced their chatter to a low hum.

"Wow, he's really good," Imoen said.

"He looks like an enormous prat though," Finn replied. "How tall is that feather in his cap? He'd better hope he doesn't come across that pheasant on a darkened lane."

"It's the fashion, Finn," Anna grinned. "We're not in the country anymore."

Despite his words she thought Finn looked rather keenly at the man's stylish velvet jacket and silken shirt, a far cry from his own tatty jerkin and tunic.

"Looks like I'm in trouble, then. Could you imagine me in one of those? Sailors could climb up top to guide their way into port. I'd never make it through a door again," he continued with a laugh.

Anna sputtered into her glass but her reply was cut short as a grim-faced Khalid and Jaheira found the table.

.........

"Ey up. What's the word?" Finn asked.

The couple glanced at each other and Jaheira made an aggravated sigh.

"Our...comrades are not where we expected," she said briefly.

"What do you mean?" Anna said.

"We called at the safe house," she continued quietly. "But it was empty. We looked in at other possible addresses but were unable to find anyone."

"Is that typical of your organisation?" Ajantis enquired.

"It's not unusual for them t-to move at short n-notice," Khalid said. "But that we could not find them at all..."

"Does not mean that anything has befallen them," Jaheira replied, a little too quickly. "Though I can think of little worse a time for this," she muttered to herself.

"What are your plans now?" Xan said.

"We shall carry on as we discussed. We would certainly value your assistance, if you would be willing," she said to him.

"Of course," the elf replied. "There is little else that I can do now, either."

Jaheira nodded and Anna wondered what plans they'd been discussing. The conversation broke into halves—Khalid and Jaheira spoke quietly together while Xan and Kivan kept up their own conversation in Elvish, its volume increasing somewhat with repeated glasses of their strong wine. Imoen chatted merrily with Ajantis though the knight seemed to have little to say in return. Finn kept Anna's goblet full and when the studious bard was replaced by a more up-tempo trio he cajoled her along into a dance.

........

They joined in with the reel, each spinning and bowing with their partners till they found themselves together again. Finn seemed to forget his down-at-heel attire and danced with the enthusiasm of a country boy. Anna felt a twinge of jealousy spying the looks he earned from the other women, but it melted when he smiled at her.

She laughed seeing Imoen virtually drag Ajantis onto the floor. The girl was light-footed as her brother but the knight turned stiff, clumsily working his way through the steps without any of the grace Anna would expect of a nobleman. Heroically he carried on though until even Imoen seemed forced to acknowledge defeat. The pair went back to the table; exhausted Anna gestured that way and Finn reluctantly bowed out of the dance.

"I need a breathing spell. I can't keep up with you!" she laughed.

"Guess I'm used to it," he replied, wiping a hand across his damp brow. "Besides dancing at the tavern and playing cards in the bunkhouse there wasn't much to do of a night back home."

"No books to read?" Anna replied lightly.

"Not one in sight," he grinned back.

They collapsed at the table to find that Khalid and Jaheira had gone upstairs. Imoen brightly suggested another round of drinks but Ajantis excused himself.

"Thank you, but no. The hour is late and I have already drank more than I care to."

Glancing at him Anna noticed his face had finally managed to out-do the colour of his hair and his voice was thicker than usual.

"Oh, won't you just have one more?" she replied.

"No thank you," he repeated. "It was a pleasure dancing with you, Imoen. Good night, my friends."

He bowed and retreated quickly. Imoen made a face as he left.

"No joy?" Finn chuckled.

"Oh, stow it," she grumbled. "It takes time to melt a glacier, you know."

"Why are you so keen on him, anyway?" he asked. "I don't think he's up to much."

"Well, thank you for your opinion," she replied, giving him a stare.

........

Finn's reply was interrupted by a merry laugh at the next table. Anna glanced over, somewhat surprised to see an elven man sharing drinks with an attractive young human woman. She seemed to be a mercenary of sorts and chatted enthusiastically about a recent sojourn, relating her adventures to the slightly bemused elf who offered a comment now and then.

"Look there," Finn whispered, nodding his head at the couple. "Elves never can resist chasing a bit of human tail, can they?"

He grinned impishly at Xan, his jibe taking the intended effect.

"I beg your pardon?" the elf replied. "It would appear that she is the one flirting. He seems to be merely humouring her."

"Oh, come on," Finn said, continuing the bait. "Look at him! He can't tear his eyes off her cleavage."

The man did indeed seem preoccupied by the woman's barely-there neckline and glanced around, almost to see if any potential rivals had noticed her ample attractions.

"Hardly surprising, it seems to be her most prominent feature," Xan muttered, trying to hide a glance of his own. "I do not know why she bothered with a tunic at all."

Kivan swiftly reached for his glass and took a swallow, choking somewhat on the contents. The woman barely paused for breath and in the middle of a massive, heroic battle with orc brigands she slopped red wine down her chest, where it trickled in between her bosom.

"_Oops,"_ she laughed.

"By the stars, Kira!" the man exclaimed. "Did you need to wear this shirt?"

Anna snickered, looking on in surprise as he drew out a kerchief and began dotting her chest. The woman took umbrage and pushed his hand away.

"Oh, it's fine, Granddad! Don't worry, it's just an old top."

"How many times have I asked you not to call me that?" the man said irritably. "I am not some wrinkled old man with a pipe, I'm barely more than two hundred years old!"

.......

Finn's mouth opened and Anna nearly strangled herself holding back her laughter. Xan's eyes widened but Kivan suddenly threw back his head and let out a loud, short laugh.

Everyone at the table stared at him, unsure if they'd actually seen what just occurred. Kivan's face fell back into formation and he reached again for his wine. The elven man at least seemed to realise his granddaughter's performance was earning attention and ushered her off to bed, much to the young woman's annoyance. When they were safely out of earshot Finn, Anna and Imoen finally collapsed into laughter.

"Gods, I think I broke something," Finn gasped.

"I fail to see what is so amusing," Xan replied, still looking put out by his kinsman's unexpected laughter.

"You don't see anything funny there?" Imoen choked. "We all thought...oh, never mind."

"I do realise what you thought," Xan said sourly. "Do you know, such a thing actually happened to an acquaintance of mine? He was considered one of the most talented students in my class at the academy...personally I always found his charm work to be inconsistent, but that is beside the point. He desired to travel and found himself in some backwater, where he developed a fondness for a human woman. Predictably of course she soon became with child. He stayed with her for all her years, and each time I saw him it seemed he had a new babe in his arms. I do not know how many grandchildren and great-grandchildren he has now—I'm not sure even he can keep count."

Xan took a sip of wine and considered the calculations, not noticing that his moral story had earned more strangled laughter from the table.

"I believe he runs an inn now," he added thoughtfully.

Anna suddenly burst, her eyes unable to hold back the tears of laughter. She laughed until her body shook and Xan stared at her.

"Do not tell me you find that amusing as well," he said.

"Yes," she choked back.

She tried desperately to dry her watering eyes, her middle exhausted with exertion. Xan looked at them all, and at Kivan who seemed to put every effort into keeping his face still. The enchanter's face twitched.

"I suppose it is perhaps...somewhat funny."

Anna found herself smiling at the dry conclusion. Xan's eyes crinkled up slightly but he quickly coughed and reached again for the wine.

.........

The sound of boots in the hall woke her the next morning. Anna groaned and rubbed her eyes, feeling a vice tightening harder around her head as she gradually regained consciousness. Too much wine, she thought, too much wine.

She lay still for a time, staring at the boards of the ceiling as they shifted slightly in her vision. With another groan she decided to try again to sleep but a sharp knock sounded on the door.

Anna pulled the blankets down and glared at the portal. Finn was as inebriated as she by the time they stumbled up the stairs, and by the sun outside it was still morning. She knew him too well to think he'd be around at that hour. The assailant summoned her again though so she forced herself out of bed and fumbled with the lock.

Jaheira stood in the hall. When she saw Anna her eyebrow raised.

"Are you well?" the druid said.

Anna mumbled her response.

"What is it?"

"As we cannot locate our companions, we have decided to take our evidence directly to the Flaming Fist. I wanted to ask you to join us, but it seems you are not up to an excursion just now."

"Are you going right now?"

"Yes," Jaheira replied. "Now."

"Oh. No, I'll go," Anna muttered. "Just give me a minute, won't you?"

"The common room, then. One minute."

Jaheira spoke shortly but Anna saw something resembling a twinkle in her eye. She closed the door on the cruelly alert woman with another groan. Spying her bag resting against a wall she impulsively went to it, fumbling around in the pockets till she found the potion she sought.

"I made it, I can take it if I like," she said to herself before downing the emerald contents of a bottle of antidote.

........

She washed quickly and hurried into her clothes, still tugging at her robe's laces as she headed for the stairs. Jaheira, Ajantis and Xan glanced up as she approached but she was surprised to see someone else sitting at the table.

"Looks like I beat you here," Finn said, smiling at her through a rather pallid face.

"For once," Anna smiled back. "Where are the others?"

"Khalid is on errands of his own," Jaheira replied. "Imoen is unresponsive, and Kivan..."

"Seems to have decided to spend the night in one of the public gardens," Xan continued, rubbing his eyes. "I hope he hasn't fallen foul of the guards, that would be the last we'd need today."

Anna lacked the energy to laugh but she noticed Finn's mouth twitch.

They set off through the city and Anna felt her energy returning in the fresh air. The sky was clear and the streets were not yet too crowded with activity. Some merchants hawked their wares in sing-song tones as they passed, and here and there men with brooms attended to the messes in the street. Finn grasped her hand and she swung it lightly, singing a little tune to the morning.

"You seem awfully chipper," Finn remarked. "I feel like death—I think I might have to give the maid some extra coin this morning."

Anna grimaced.

"Well, I had my potions to spare me the worst of the trouble."

"Cheater," Finn replied, but Anna had to laugh a little at his look.

.........

They followed the streets downhill towards the river and her mood faded. The Flaming Fist compound grew like a carbuncle out of the same grey stone as the outer walls, a former guard tower converted to purpose. All along its height the narrow windows grinned with iron bars making her wonder if the entire building was a prison. A separate wall cut off the building from the rest of the city, its height nearly a match for the outer walls. The main gates to the complex were shut and several sentries commanded entry through a smaller wooden door.

"State your purpose here or move on," one said to them as they approached.

"We wish to speak with Duke Eltan," Ajantis said. "We bring vital information concerning the bandit attacks and the iron crisis that he should be made aware."

The sentry's eyebrow raised from behind his helmet.

"I'm sorry, but no one can see Duke Eltan. If you have news though you can report it to the shift captain."

"This information is too sensitive for your captain," Ajantis replied, straightening up to his full height. "I am Sir Ajantis, paladin of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart, and this lady with me is a representative of the Harpers. I have had an audience with the Duke on a previous occasion and I insist that we speak to him."

The sentry stepped back slightly, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Begging your pardon, my lord, but it's not that simple. I don't know when you last spoke with the Duke, but he's been laid up ill for some time now. Commander Angelo Dosan is acting in his stead and he doesn't take visitors without an appointment."

Ajantis seemed surprised by the revelation but Jaheira spoke.

"He will speak to us, I am certain," she said coolly. "Perhaps if you would be kind enough to relate our presence?"

The sentry made an almost nervous sigh but consented to pass on the news. The group stood waiting for some time outside the door, earning themselves the curious looks of people that passed on the street. Anna began to feel rather ridiculous and wondered if the man had gotten lost, but the messenger finally came hurrying back.

"The Commander says he'll meet you in his office," the man said, to the sentry's obvious surprise. "Follow me, please."

........

After reluctantly submitting to a brief catalogue of weapons and magic the group were ushered into the compound. A row of stables lined up along one wall and they had to move quickly aside to make way for a mounted patrol. Despite the sunshine of the courtyard and a general air of activity there was something uncomfortable about the place; it had an authoritarian feel that made Anna oddly nervous. She had a distinct sensation of being swallowed by a cold mouth as they passed into the tower.

The great room rang with the sounds of boots and armour as mercenaries tromped to and fro on their business. Off to the side a heavy door swung open with a creak and a clatter of locks. Two guards stepped through, pulling along several men shackled by their hands and feet. The prisoners didn't look up and shuffled slowly after their captors.

The messenger guided them through a series of padlocked doors before finally taking them up an endless winding staircase, leading into a room so austere in appearance Anna felt surprised that it was the office of one of the Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate. Like the rest of the complex the grey walls were mostly bare save for a few old maps framed upon the stone. The fireplace was barren and even on that bright day the narrow windows were insufficient for lighting, leaving the room rather dim.

..........

Behind a heavy desk were two men, each wearing the crimson livery of the Fist. A tall, sturdy-looking man stood by a bookcase and regarded them keenly, but the other merely glanced up from his writing as the messenger introduced the strangers.

"So...we have a knight of Amn and a number of Harpers, neither of which have any authority within this state, demanding to see the commander of the Flaming Fist," Commander Dosan said idly.

Anna looked him over carefully as she dared; he was past forty, she reckoned, with a lean, stern face and sharp eyes. His features spoke of neither kindness nor cruelty, typical of officers anywhere. He dismissed the messenger with a wave and turned his eyes back to his parchment.

"I can assure you we have not come here for a casual chat, Commander," Jaheira said. "We believe we have found the name of those responsible for the troubles in this region."

"An ogre named Tazok—yes, we know," Dosan answered. "We discovered his camp nearly a fortnight ago."

The party shifted slightly, surprised by the news.

"You found Tazok's camp?" Finn asked.

"Yes, as I just said," he replied, giving Finn a look. "Although the ogre himself was carrion we have enough evidence from numerous bandit confessions to prove he was the mastermind. We are still in the process of clearing out the remaining brigands, but the iron crisis is effectively at an end. You've wasted your time here, and mine."

"You are still missing a large piece of the puzzle then, Commander," Jaheira said. "Tazok was indeed in charge of the bandits, but his actions were governed by the Iron Throne."

"Iron Throne?" the standing man repeated. He'd been so quiet since they entered Anna had almost forgotten he was in the room. Now though he stepped forward and she winced noticing a deep, ugly scar down his left cheek. "What do you have on the Iron Throne?"

Dosan waved a hand and the man fell back into place.

"I'd like to know that myself," the commander said dryly. "This is certainly the first I've heard of their involvement, and I hear most things."

He set down his quill and leaned back in his chair, regarding them with an almost challenging look.

"The Iron Throne had taken possession of an abandoned iron mine in the Cloakwood Hills, which we believe they intended to use to their profit," Ajantis replied. "They coordinated their efforts with Tazok to disrupt trade in this region as much as possible. These brave people and myself helped to liberate the slaves that were held there and destroyed the operation, with the loss of noble lives."

"And what evidence do you bring of this?" Commander Dosan asked.

Jaheira cleared her throat.

"We regrettably have nothing from the mine itself. However—"

"You have no evidence?" he interrupted. "Then what did you expect of us? The Flaming Fist is not a group of vigilantes."

Jaheira's mouth opened but Xan spoke.

"Commander, we recovered a number of coded letters at Tazok's camp. Although none of them specifically mention the Iron Throne, you may see that they do give mention of an iron mine."

........

The elf drew out a small leather tube from his robe and handed it to him. Dosan took it up and smacked out the burnt and battered letters onto his desk.

"I took the liberty of translating them, however I expect you would wish your own men to verify the contents," Xan continued. "I believe them proof enough that Tazok was not acting alone and that he was receiving outside orders. We can also direct you to the mine itself...although, admittedly it is underwater."

Xan faltered at the last, seemingly becoming aware of the effect of the statement.

_"Hrm," _Dosan said, running his eyes lightly over the letters. "The trouble with that is, we only have your word these even came from Tazok's camp. You could have just as easily done these up yourself, my good Harper. And an underwater mine is pretty useless to anyone, unless these so-called slaves were mermen."

"I am not of the Harpers," the elf replied. "But I can assure you that these are not false."

Dosan snorted. "So you're just a strange elf offering me unverifiable evidence, then. These are even less use to me now than before."

Xan stiffened. "Commander, I am here on behalf of the people of Evereska, and that is not a duty I take lightly. I assure you that I would have no reason to present fraudulent evidence, and to do so would dishonour the very city I represent."

The commander gave him a look. "You claim to be an ambassador? I wasn't aware of any elven representatives in the city."

"I am of the Greycloaks," he replied gravely. "Our name is known to you, I am sure. Our representatives have met with your Dukes in the past."

"So you say. But the Greycloaks qualify as enforcers of law, and if you've been to Baldur's Gate before you'd know that all representatives of foreign powers need to declare themselves to us, or find themselves open to charges of espionage. I'd be within my rights to arrest you where you stand, Master Elf, but I'd prefer not to start a diplomatic incident before lunchtime," Dosan said.

Xan's eyes flashed and his face hardened but he took a slight step back from the man.

"With due respect, Commander, I find your cavalier attitude to such serious allegations unworthy of your station," Ajantis suddenly said, his own eyes sparking. "We did not expect you to arrest the leaders of the Iron Throne at our command, but we would hope that you would have more respect for our word."

"Your word?" the commander fired back. "Whose? Harpers, who're known the land over for meddling where they shouldn't? Elves? The gods only know what they've ever got planned. Or a knight from Amn, the very nation that so many have placed the blame on in these troubles? You can call me cavalier if you want, but I can only act within the law. I go before the Dukes with your evidence here and I'm just as likely to have it thrown in my face that Amn are trying to pin the blame on someone else. You've got no proof. Where are these slaves? What happened to the guards—didn't you take any prisoners?"

"The slaves remained behind for their own safety. As for the guards..." Jaheira coughed, "as my companion has said, we hoped you might at least consider our evidence. The Iron Throne have organised these troubles. Look into them, it is all that we ask."

.......

Finn had remained quiet throughout the exchange but he suddenly spoke.

"What about all the people who've gone missing lately? How do you explain that?"

"Carrion crawlers," Dosan said, staring up at Finn.

"What?"

"It's true people were going missing right and left. But looking for them we found a big nest of carrion crawlers in the sewers, along with the personal effects of many of the missing."

"Carrion crawlers rarely hunt for their food," Jaheira said, incredulous. "Surely they could not be responsible for the loss of so many."

"Normally not, but this nest apparently learned new ways. Since we've cleared them out the reports of missing people stopped as well. Their families were satisfied, case closed."

"Well, you're likely to think different when some of them show back up here and tell their tales," Finn replied angrily.

"Until then," Dosan said. "I'm sorry if you folks think I've been making you dance here. But I've got a job to do and I can't go about chasing after fairy stories. If you've got some hard evidence against the Iron Throne come back, and I'll be glad to hear it. Now if you'll excuse me, these execution orders won't sign themselves. Merion, if you'll show these people the door?"

He turned back to his writing without another word. The party stood and stared at him, and even the man behind the desk didn't move. With a jolt he roused himself though and beckoned for the group to follow him.

........

The mercenary stormed out of the office angry as a bee but whatever he was thinking he kept it to himself. Anna said nothing and didn't see the stone walls they passed. She felt numb and bruised, unsure of what to think. Merion led them in silence out of the tower and up to the gate. He gave them a hard look but bade them a gruff afternoon and turned back towards the stables.

"That—_arrogance_," Jaheira seethed when they were back on the street. "I should have liked nothing more than to slam his head into his desk to bring him to his senses."

"I cannot believe he dismissed us so readily," Ajantis replied, his own voice strained. "But—as much as it pains me to admit, he was not entirely wrong. Our evidence was weak and he has little reason to trust us."

"Oh, come on—the bloke was a complete jackass," Finn said. "Don't give him any credit. But what do we do now?"

"He may be acting commander of the Flaming Fist, but there are those who still outrank him," Ajantis said. "I believe I can arrange an audience with the Dukes...perhaps they will give our tale more heed. I can hardly think they would do worse."

.......

They wandered back to the Elfsong in silence. Jaheira and Ajantis walked ahead, but Xan trailed slightly behind the others. Finn stayed next to Anna but neither spoke. She felt something pricking at her though and finally quickened her pace.

"Jaheira," she said quietly. "The slaves. Do you think...?"

The druid bit her lip. "I do not know. Is arrogance equal to corruption? Perhaps the Fist have simply been led by a fool who cannot see the forest for the trees. _Silvanus_, where are they?"

She said the last to herself but Anna knew of whom she spoke.

"Perhaps we should stop and have a drink," Xan said, finally walking up beside them.

"What?" Finn said, turning in surprise. "You after the hair of the dog?"

Anna glanced at him as well, wondering what on Toril had persuaded Xan to come to that decision. His eyes were stormy grey as they'd been since the commander's veiled threat, but her gaze dropped to his hands. They moved subtly before him as if shaping invisible clay. He made a slight brushing gesture and she saw a faint flash of light.

"I feared we might be followed so I sent an orb off behind us," the elf said low. "And it seems my fears were correct—we have been trailed since we left the compound."

Jaheira's eyes widened but her face stayed neutral and she didn't look back.

"How many?"

"Just one. A man in a brown cloak. He is very clever in staying out of sight, but apparently not wise enough to realise I cast a spell. He is behind us even now."

Anna fought hard against the urge to whirl around, instead taking Finn's hand in hers.

"What do we do?" he said grimly.

"Have a drink, as Xan suggested," Jaheira replied. "That tavern will do, I believe."

.......

What the sign over the door was Anna didn't see; she followed in a haze behind the druid as she casually stepped over the threshold. A fair number of patrons sat at table, eating bread with cheese and meat while they downed their obligatory tankard of ale before heading back to their shops and stalls. A cloud of blue smoke hung in the air and from somewhere Anna could hear a hurdy gurdy playing. The sound brought back the conversation of the night before but the laughter had fled.

Jaheira kept them moving past the puzzled barman and into the kitchens, where an irate cook looked up from his chopping board.

"See here! No patrons allowed. Go on back the way you came," the man exclaimed.

"Do not trouble yourself, we are leaving," the druid remarked.

Jaheira strode through the outside door as if she lived there, earning them more comments from the cook and some amused glances from a scullery maid. Finn shut the door behind them but Anna suddenly paused.

"Wait," she said.

Jaheira turned with a look but she ignored her and cast a spell on the lock.

"That will keep them busy," the mage said, feeling rather pleased with herself for thinking of it.

"Well done," Jaheira said. "Now, can you manage this one or will we have to go over the wall?"

Anna nodded and cast another spell on the garden door, sending the padlock dropping open with a click. They emerged into a narrow alley littered with empty barrels and other refuse. Jaheira let her feet move and the others followed suit, running fast as they could from the inn.


	58. Doubt

"This is absurd," Ajantis said, pausing long enough to look over his shoulder. "We have done nothing wrong—we should stop and confront this man!"

"Nothing wrong?" Xan panted. "Since when does that matter? Run, if you value your liberty!"

Anna was too breathless to reply. She ran after Jaheira as she ducked through a series of back alleys and side streets, only slackening their pace where their flight would attract attention. She glanced behind and nearly fell over a broken cobblestone for her effort but she saw no one following them.

"Ajantis is right," Finn breathed as they paused again. "What difference does it make? We can't hide from the Flaming Fist, they own this town."

"No, but we can find somewhere more secure to await their next move, if there is one," Jaheira replied. "Come now, we are nearly to the inn."

The druid led them around the wide square up to the Elfsong, keeping to the crowds as much as possible. Anna's heart felt like it was trying to jump out of her chest but she tried to keep up the pretence of a casual afternoon stroll.

"Gather your things as quickly as you can, but remain in your rooms," Jaheira said as they slipped in to the common room. "Anna, Xan—find Imoen and Kivan and tell them to do the same. Hopefully they are here...I shall find Khalid."

........

No one questioned her orders. Anna's heart pounded even faster as she mounted the stairs and rapped lightly on Imoen's chamber door. A low moan came through the wood.

"Do the room up later," Anna heard Imoen's voice drawl. "But can you leave a towel?"

"It's me, Anna," she called in reply.

She heard a muttering and a swift _ow_ as the girl stumbled over something but at last Imoen opened the door, pale-faced and tousled.

"You're back," she muttered again. "I don't know if I'm up for a trip to the market right now..."

"You need to pack up," Anna replied quietly. "I think we're leaving."

"What? Why?" Imoen asked, her tired eyes growing wider.

"Just get dressed and pack, and stay in your room," she answered. "I can't explain now."

"Okay," she said meekly.

Anna left her standing in the doorway and hurried into her own chamber, where she began blindly stuffing her few things into her pack. Restlessly she waited, pacing the floor for what seemed like a lifetime. At last a knock sounded and she quickly drew open the door. Jaheira stood in the hall, with Finn and Imoen creeping up behind her like worried children.

"Listen to me," the druid said low. "We cannot all leave here at once. Khalid has gone ahead—look for him by the market gardens north of the shambles. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes, but—" Anna began.

"This is no time for questions. Go, I shall see to things at the inn. Mind you are not followed."

Anna drew a breath but didn't say another word. She looked at Finn and Imoen and beckoned them to follow her through the common room and out of the inn.

..........

The streets were crowded in the afternoon and Anna imagined that every stray pair of eyes that glanced their way were spies. Still she hurried on, keeping her head down as much as possible. Her heart leaped seeing the red colours of the Flaming Fist walking towards them on the street and she tugged the siblings into an alley.

"Did they see us?" Imoen whispered as they tried to shelter behind a rain barrel.

"I don't know," Anna replied. "What do we do if they have?"

"You could make us invisible, couldn't you?" Finn asked.

"I could. I didn't think of that. We could make it to the gardens and no one would see us at all."

"Yeah, but...how could we follow you if we couldn't see you?" Imoen said hesitantly. "Finn and me don't know where it is."

"Good point," Anna replied.

She peeked out towards the street but the patrol passed by without even glancing in their direction.

"Gods, I hate this," Finn muttered. "Let's just go, aye?"

Anna drew a breath and nodded. After waiting a moment to make sure the patrol had gone they slipped back out of the alley, hurrying on as much as they dared to find the half-elf.

..........

Khalid stood waiting by the garden wall, his hood pulled up over his face. He nodded at them but said nothing as he led them further into the shabby eastern side of town.

The buildings grew closer together, shading the streets from even the afternoon sun. Grimy-white laundry stretched on lines high above the cobbles and fluttered like weary flags of defeat in the light breeze. Anna glanced up as a woman's angry voice burst out of an upper floor but she saw no one. An unseen dog barked and the sound of a recorder drifted ownerless through the air.

At last Khalid turned into an alley, leading them past numerous garden doors before finally pausing at the last. Surprisingly he pulled the pin from his jerkin and pressed it against the door, speaking under his breath in words Anna couldn't hear. She heard a lock click and Khalid pushed open the heavy door.

The yard within resembled more a jungle than a garden; the grass grew high between the cracked paving stones and the flower beds were rampant with weeds. A few remnants of crates littered the place and the moss had made them their own. Patches of green grew up the chipped garden walls and Anna spotted a snail casually making his way down the brick.

The house was in no better repair than the yard—the shutters were nailed closed over the windows and the door looked like one pulled from a barn. Imoen glanced up at it and made a noise.

"Ugh, what's this place?" she asked.

"Just follow me," Khalid replied, performing his same trick on the door's lock.

He ushered them inside and quickly drew the door shut behind them. Anna stood silently in the darkness, afraid to move for fear of what might be crawling under her feet. Khalid fumbled with the windows and when a block of sunlight burst in she blinked in surprise.

They stood in a tidy, well-appointed kitchen. The brick walls were freshly whitewashed and the floor was swept clean, and though no fire burned on the hearth it too was swept clear of ashes. Anna slowly realised that the shutters Khalid opened were on the inside.

"The outside shutters are an illusion?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied with a little smile. "This is a H-harper safehouse."

"Seriously?" Finn said, looking around. "This place must be warded up to the rafters, then."

"From cellar to chimney. I'd advise you n-not to go sneaking out of here at n-night, Imoen," Khalid said with a chuckle.

"If the Flaming Fist are looking for us I think I'm happy enough staying at home," the girl replied, letting her pack slide down.

"What do we do now?" Anna asked. The novelty of the house quickly wore off as the reason for their flight sunk back in.

"Jaheira and the others shall b-be here soon," Khalid replied. "You can take your p-packs upstairs in the meantime. There are two small ch-chambers that you and Imoen may have, and others are up in the l-loft, Finn."

Finn made a face at being relegated to the garret again but said nothing. Khalid went into the next room and Anna looked in surprise again as the sunlight revealed a small but pleasant sitting area, complete with shelves of books that she hoped weren't an illusion as well.

..........

She led the way up a narrow staircase and discovered three more rooms, the larger of which Khalid and Jaheira must have meant for themselves. Finn pulled open another door and bravely scaled steep attic steps scarcely wide enough for his pack.

Imoen hesitated in her choice and Anna directed her to the larger of the two single rooms. Her own seemed clean enough, although unless the brick hid more illusions it had no window. With a sigh she tried to push her pack under the bed but it refused to go. Kneeling she discovered to her surprise a trundle bed underneath her own; the Harpers apparently planned to squeeze as many people into the small house as possible. In resignation she leaned the pack against the wall and went back down into the sitting room.

Khalid told her to wait and went back into the kitchen. Anna took a seat on a cushioned chair. She tucked her feet in and sat quietly with her hands folded, like a nervous child. A faint ticking caught her ears and she noticed a clock sitting on the mantle. Dwarven by its appearance, as all good clocks were. The moon phase rose up through a small glass window near its top, and several other dials that Anna couldn't make out were lined up below. She wanted to examine the rare device but sat still, her legs unwilling to move.

Imoen came downstairs and sat across from her. She took on Anna's appearance and sat biting her lip, waiting for whatever would happen. She seemed almost lost in the large chair and her toes barely rested on the floor. A few wisps of tangled auburn kept clinging to the horsehair fabric. She smoothed them down but they returned to their place.

Finn followed soon after but paced before the mantle, tapping at it now and then with a finger. He looked at Anna and she thought the dark circles that had rimmed his eyes since the last night's excess had grown deeper. His mouth tried to smile but his muscles seemed to have forgotten the expression.

Khalid finally returned. He looked like he might speak once or twice but stayed quiet, sitting still as the women on one of the slippery horsehair chairs. His brow furrowed and his mouth was tight, making his unlined face seem older. He seemed thinner too—had he always been that thin, Anna wondered? His cheeks were always fine and delicate but now they seemed hollow. He brushed a strand of fair hair away from his face and she looked back down at the carpet.

..........

At last the back door opened and the group rose up as one. Jaheira stepped into the room, followed by Ajantis.

"Where are the elves?" Khalid asked after kissing his wife in obvious relief.

"Kivan was not at the inn. Xan is looking for him," she replied, somewhat breathless.

"We should not have left him," Ajantis said. "We should not be here."

"I do not like it either, but Xan can take care of himself. And where else would you have us go?" Jaheira said. "This place is likely more secure than any other in this city, save perhaps the palace itself."

"I care not if we have our own garrison at our disposal," he replied grimly. "I am not used to hiding like a criminal, especially when I have no cause to fear the law. We should not have left the inn. This was a foolish flight."

"You did not need to accompany us if you feel so, sir knight," Jaheira said, an edge in her voice. "We have done nothing wrong, as you said, and our residence does not change that. But time will only tell if we have cause to fear the Flaming Fist. In the meantime, I prefer to gather that knowledge somewhere secure. This house is certainly more private than an inn."

"That at least is true," Ajantis replied.

"Gods, even in the city we have to hide," Finn broke in. "I'd almost rather stay back at the inn. Let whatever come, come. I'd rather face it than spend my life hiding in a burrow."

The others stayed silent but Anna could feel their agreement with his statement.

"I understand," Jaheira said. "I would rather this weight be gone from all our shoulders, but we cannot wish it away. These people are clever enough to organise the iron crisis and possibly corrupt the Flaming Fist, and they cannot be ignored because you would rather spend your evenings drinking and dancing. I am sorry, but that is the way it must be."

"And I don't get a say in it?" Finn grumbled. "Guess we're back to nursemaids, then."

Jaheira's eyes flashed and she ran a hand over her braids in irritation.

"Oh, go on then if you are so keen!" she snapped. "The door is there. No one is holding your hand, Finn. If you want to leave, feel free."

No one else said anything and Anna bristled at the sudden tension. Finn glared at Jaheira but rather than continue bickering he stormed away up the stairs, his boots making the boards sound like thunder. Anna let out a long sigh before she realised it.

"I'll go talk to him," she said quietly.

"Don't," Jaheira replied. "Let him learn to act like an adult for once."

.........

Anna threw her a look but her head hurt too much to argue. Imoen gave her an unreadable glance and crept away up the stairs. Jaheira and Khalid began discussing some plans and retreated to the kitchen, ostensibly to organise the house's provisions. Ajantis looked at her but Anna turned her head away.

"Are you well, my lady?" the knight asked.

"Yes," she sighed. "I'm just...tired."

"I feel rather tired myself," he said with a small smile. "Why do you not sit? I shall try my hand at starting a fire, though I may well fall foul of whatever strange magical traps this house contains."

He spoke ruefully and Anna smiled slightly in return. Gladly she retreated to a chair and watched the knight repeatedly strike flint against steel from the small tinder box on the mantle, trying in vain to light the kindling.

"Do you want help?" she asked. "A spell would be quicker."

"No thank you," he said.

He continued with the work and eventually some tiny sparks caught the straw, sending up billows of black smoke into the chimney. Ajantis encouraged them into flames, guiding them towards the sticks and logs. When at last he was satisfied he stretched up from the hearth with a grunt.

"That is good," he said to himself, holding a hand out to the flames. "Strange but I find this place chilly, even on this bright day."

"Heavy magic has a tendency to do that," Anna replied. "It seems almost built into the walls here. The Harpers don't do things lightly, I imagine."

"It is not something I know much about," he said, still feeling the flames.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? That I am a mage," she asked quietly.

"No, my lady," he said, turning back to her with a smile. "I am not so prejudiced against arcane magic as many in my nation. However...I admit it troubles me at times that mortals should wield such power, without even the blessings of a god. We should stay humble in our talents, not aspire to the might of the divine."

"Well...Mystra is a god, and without her will no one can wield arcane magic. In a way I suppose it is a divine blessing," Anna said.

"Perhaps you are right," he conceded. He left the fire and seated himself in a chair near her. "But if that is true then I shudder at those to whom Mystra is willing to grant her gifts. Some years ago now the Order was called out to a village in the south. The citizens had begun disappearing into the woods—men, women and children alike, simply laying down their tools and toys and walking away without a word to anyone. None could be found either dead nor alive. Foul magic was suspected, and I was dispatched with a number of my fellows to find the cause."

"And did you?"

"We were aided by the local representative of the Cowled Wizards. An unappealing, spindly excuse for a man—I could not stomach him on sight," Ajantis said, his lip curling in memory. "Such an ill stench about him. He tried to place the blame on a group of ogre mages, he showed us a corpse...but I was not convinced. I rallied my fellows and we followed him back to his abode. I...will not say what we found there, my lady. Only that I have never felt I had done my duty more, than when my blade found his chest."

The knight fell quiet and sat rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Anna drew a breath.

"I have wondered that myself, at times. To me magic is beautiful, the ultimate expression of the elements. But it can also unleash true horrors. How are the two rectified? I do not know."

"At least, you do not fear doubt. It is those who are so assured of their path that can cause the most destruction," Ajantis said.

She glanced at him, surprised to hear that statement from the knight.

"Do you ever doubt your path?"

"Doubt, my lady? Every day I face doubt," he said quietly. "But I carry on. I do what I must, and that is all any man can do."

"You are right," she said. "But how do we know what we must do? There is no guidebook for me here. I feel so lost sometimes...everything is beyond my control."

A lump began to harden in her throat and she stared into the flames.

"You are not alone," he said gently. "Perhaps it is as Delas used to say—it is not the tool, but the man who wields it that is the measure."

Anna glanced at him again and saw a smile creep over his face.

"The pitcher and the broom," Ajantis said oddly, then laughed. "Forgive me, my lady. We were sparring one day, Delas and I. We'd been discussing much this same topic, and to prove his point...he put aside his weapons and armed himself with a pewter pitcher and a broom. And by Helm! He held me at bay. Though in truth I was too plagued with laughter to fight properly."

He chuckled to himself Anna found herself laughing at the image.

"He sounds like a fine man," she said.

"Aye, he was," Ajantis replied quietly.

The knight said no more and his face fell sombre. Anna leaned back in her chair and left him to his thoughts.

.........

The clock ticked impatiently and the patch of sunlight moved slowly across the floor. Finn and Imoen didn't come downstairs and the Harpers stayed in the kitchen. Anna and Ajantis spoke politely but idly, their thoughts each drifting in other directions.

She began to be increasingly worried about their missing comrades. Anna didn't ask for Ajantis' opinion of where the elves were; he knew no more than she, and she didn't want to speak her fears out loud. Wherever they were, they could do nothing.

She rose up hearing the back door finally open and elvish voices enter the kitchen. Before she could make a start though they all came into the sitting room.

"It's good to see you," Anna said, and Ajantis echoed the statement.

"Yes," Xan replied. "I hope we did not cause concern but as I was saying, Kivan and I decided to watch the inn. Our pursuer appeared but after making enquiries he departed back to the fortress. We saw no other Flaming Fist beyond the common patrols."

"Which to me says we have no cause for fear," Ajantis said. "How do we know if this man simply wanted to speak with us?"

"There seems to be little alarm amongst the soldiers," Kivan said. "Once we came face-to-face with a patrol but they paid us no heed."

"My concern is who sent him out in the first place," Jaheira replied, sounding slightly strained at the news. "Why not speak with us at the compound? Why have a man trail us?"

"Whatever his mission he was plainly trying to stay out of sight," Xan said. "That is suspicious enough in itself. I think you were wise to bring us here, though I fear we may now be more cornered than before."

"Cornered? This entire city is like a mine above ground," Kivan remarked. "Each way you step your path is blocked. What does it matter, this building or the other? It is all a cage."

"A cage where our path has lead us, _mellonamin," _the enchanter said. "I care for it no more than you, but for now we must stay."

Kivan scowled in reply and Anna had the feeling it wasn't the first time that subject had been breached between the elves.

..........

She heard steps on the stairs and looked up to see Finn and Imoen appear.

"Hey, you're back," Finn said, clapping Kivan on the shoulder. "What's the word?"

"Difficult to say," Khalid remarked. "I think we should j-just do as I suggested?"

"Yes," Jaheira sighed. "We know little more than we did this morning. We should all make ourselves comfortable as possible here and await news."

"What about food, then? I'm starving. We could pop round to a tavern for a quick bite," Finn said.

"No, I think not," the druid replied. "There is wine enough here to keep you occupied, if you must, and provisions for a meal."

"I can do the cooking," Imoen spoke, her voice sounding more cheery. "My pork pies are a work of art! Or...maybe something more sophisticated," she said, glancing in Ajantis' direction. "Stewed chicken with a white leek sauce, or maybe some pigeon if we can find it. Braised beef would be nice too...we could get some broad beans and young turnips, and fruit for tarts—"

"I said I was hungry, Im, not having the king around," Finn joked.

"I'm afraid we cannot satisfy your culinary aspirations, regardless," Jaheira said. "There is flour and rice and lentils, and some vegetables in the cellar. You can find herbs in the garden as well, if you are so motivated."

"What, no meat?" Finn said.

"You will survive, I am sure," Jaheira said dryly.

"But we could go to a butcher's, surely," Imoen pleaded. "It's not that dangerous, is it?"

"I saw a market street not far from here," Anna chimed in. "The shops are likely still open."

"I do not much find a lenten feast appealing, myself," Ajantis said. "If Imoen is willing to cook for us we should indulge her."

A crooked smile swept over the girl's face and she looked imploringly at Jaheira. The druid frowned.

"Very well, if you must. I am outvoted at every turn today, it seems. But I think that Anna and Xan should run the errand."

"Why do you wish me to go?" Xan asked. "I have little interest in this venture."

"The fewer that leave here, the less likely to cause attention. Anna is a merchant of sorts and rather good at bartering, and if she should meet with trouble your abilities would be useful. Besides, I feel reasonably assured that neither of you would take a detour into the nearest tavern," she replied, throwing a glance at Finn.

"Oh, come on," he said. "How hard up do you think I am?"

"Maybe she's right," Anna said. "We could slip around and be back before you know it."

Finn grumbled to himself and Xan looked sour. Anna tried to ignore them both as she vainly attempted to process the list of ingredients Imoen rattled off, while Jaheira stuffed a small bag of coin in her hand and a basket on her arm.

"Let us be on with this," Xan said, and she followed him out the door.

..........

He fell further behind as they left the house and Anna had to glance around once or twice to make sure the elf was still with her. He walked slowly with his hood up, drifting lightly around the people who passed in the street. Anna turned round with a little sigh and continued on her mission.

They found the high street easily enough. Though the afternoon was fading the shop doors were still all open to the air. Anna paused at a greengrocers and found herself forced to banter lightly with the aged shopkeeper who sat near the bins of fruit and vegetables, smoking a pipe. The vegetables were mottled and soft, not up to the quality of the country but she picked the best ones she could find.

Another shop sold overpriced almonds but she still managed a bargain with a pot of honey. Xan stayed behind her like a distant shadow, watching the street in a falsely detached manner. It made Anna fidgety and she fell back to speak with him.

"You don't need to be quite so cloak and dagger about this, we're only shopping," she said, trying to make a joke.

"You seem to be managing well enough on your own," he replied, keeping his gaze on the street.

Anna sighed and wandered into the butcher's shop. The faint scent of blood hung in the air and she regarded a few buzzing flies with disgust. Still, the various hams and sausages and joints looked hale enough so she enquired about the chickens to the stout butcher.

"Five gold, 'less you want it dressed, then it's eight," he said, wiping his hands on his stained apron. "Though for a smile I might dress it for ye for free."

He grinned in a manner resembling an old farm dog but Anna forced out a smile for the cause.

"That's better, love," he continued, and laid a greasy-feathered black hen on the counter. "How's this one for you? Nice and plump, killed it myself just today."

"It looks lovely," Anna replied, still smiling.

"And you and all," he said, his own smile growing wider.

.........

He barked for a lad and sent the boy out back to scald the hen. Anna coughed a little and hoped another patron or some work might distract the man, but he plainly had other ideas.

"Where d'you hail from, pet? I've not seen you round here before," the butcher asked.

"Oh, I'm just—travelling," she said briefly.

"Oh, aye? Lots of travelling folk coming through here now, though we don't see too many of 'em in this neighbourhood. You stopping over at the Nag?"

"No, with friends," Anna said.

"Do tell. Who abouts? I might know 'em."

"Friends," she repeated.

"No need to be tetchy, love," the man said, his look turning sour. "It's only a simple question."

"I'm sorry," Anna replied.

She didn't feel the words but there wasn't much else she could say. Thankfully the boy returned with the hen and the butcher began to pluck it rather forcefully.

"Me mate's landlord over at the Nag," he continued, not dropping his chain of thought. "He brews up some powerful ales. Maybe you and your friends could have a pop round later, eh? Share a drink with an old fellow for doing you a favour?"

He smiled again through crooked teeth and Anna groaned inwardly. Butchers had a reputation for lechery and she wondered if all his female patrons received such swift treatment. She fumbled for a reply that wouldn't sound overtly rude but the man suddenly glanced over her shoulder, a strangely startled expression on his face. Anna turned to see Xan standing behind her.

"Sorry, mate. Is this your bird?" the man said to him.

"The chicken?" Xan replied.

The elf's laconic remark perplexed the butcher enough that he went back to dressing the hen in silence. Anna felt her face flame and wished she could melt into the floor. Xan stayed where he was but she didn't dare look back at him, for fear she would burst.

.........

At last the bird was ready and the butcher wrapped the giblets in parchment paper.

"That's five gold then, mate," he said to Xan.

"My companion ordered the fowl, she has the coin," the elf replied.

"Ah, right. Cheers then, love," he said to Anna. "See you, mate."

He took the coins from Anna's hand and promptly disappeared into the back. She snatched up the prize and gladly hurried towards the street.

"He changed his tune rather abruptly," she said to Xan. "What did you do to him?"

"Me? I merely walked into the shop," he replied. "I hardly gave him any brutal looks, if that's what you were thinking. It likely was a guilty conscience—I happened to notice a rather rotund-looking woman making her way up the stairs to the flat above, and I suspect her claim on him is rather tight."

"Oh, that poor fellow," Anna said, a chortle slipping out.

"I would not waste pity on him," Xan said with a frown. _"Mate_ indeed—of all the human expressions I find that the most irritating, especially as it always seems to come from the mouths of those I would least consider for the role."

Anna finally gave way and burst into loud laughter. The elf glanced at her, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Could you be more quiet? We are not meant to be making a scene," he reminded her.

"You're right," she gasped. "We wouldn't want anyone to think...that I was your chicken!"

She nearly doubled over with laughter despite Xan's look and the glances of people on the street. The elf grabbed at her arm and she struggled for breath.

"I'm sorry. I think my head's gone funny anymore," Anna said, glancing up at him and trying to dry her eyes. "But—what is it?"

Xan's face had lost its puzzled impatience and he stared straight ahead, his eyes keen and bright.

"There is someone behind us. That is the third time I have seen him here, and he buys nothing," he said quietly.

"Who?"

"Don't turn around. Just come this way."

He led her rather forcefully by the arm and they walked swiftly as they could. Xan turned them onto a cross-street but ducked into the nearest alley, where he broke into a run.

........

They hurried at last into the alley behind the Harper house, now filled with shadows from the sinking sun. Anna looked around as they burst through the garden door, but the alley was empty. Xan knocked hard and the door to the house opened.

"What...?" Jaheira began.

"Someone behind us," the elf panted. "I think we lost him, but I cannot be sure."

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, bolting the door behind them. "I knew we shouldn't have been so lax."

"Do we need to run?" Imoen asked, looking up from the pastry she'd been rolling.

"We would have no time," Ajantis replied. "But I for one would stay here, regardless."

"You're right," Finn said. "If they want us, they can come and get us."

He grasped at his sword's grip, his fingers caressing the metal. Imoen abandoned her pastry and yanked off her apron. Anna laid the shopping in a corner, her adventures with the butcher now a forgotten memory.

"The rest of y-you gather your weapons," Khalid said. "If we—"

His thought was interrupted by a deep knock on the door.

Imoen jumped back. "Oh, gods," she whispered.

The knock sounded again, hard and persistent.

"Well, let's see who it is," Finn said.

Kivan slipped up beside the door, pulling his dagger from its sheath. Xan retreated slightly but stayed at alert, and Anna slid closer to Finn, ready to cast her own spells. The pounding came again. Jaheira drew a breath, and opened the door.

.........

One man stood in the twilight, hooded and cloaked. With the fading light behind Anna could make out nothing of his features but she could feel his eyes on the tense group.

"Evening," he said. "Hope I'm not interrupting your tea, but I hoped we might have a word."

"Are you alone?" Jaheira demanded.

"If I'm not then I've got problems," the man replied. "Don't worry, I've only come to talk."

"Raise your hands then, and step inside. Slowly," the druid said.

He did as commanded. He wore a plain brown jerkin but Anna could see the flash of chain peeking through the collar, and a sword hung at his waist. When he'd stepped inside Kivan slammed shut the door, bolting it securely.

"Shall we not have a look at you?" Jaheira said.

The man raised his hands and slowly pulled his hood down. In surprise Anna saw that he was the scarred mercenary from the Flaming Fist compound.

"You led my lieutenant on quite a chase," he chuckled, a bit uneasily. "But you needn't have bothered. We knew you were set up in the Elfsong—I only sent my man out to arrange a meeting."

"You were watching us?" Finn asked, looking at the man through narrow eyes.

"It's our job, son," the man said, lowering his hands. "We've been getting reports for awhile now about a group of adventurers that've had their hand in dealing with these troubles. Anywhere we go, it seems like you've already beaten us to it. I ordered the bridge wardens to keep an eye out for any groups matching your description on the chance you might come to the city. And lo and behold, you show up. I was planning on seeking you out as it happens, but you beat me again."

"I see," Jaheira said. "And you are...?"

"Hells, my manners. Most people I deal with already know my name. Captain Telvin Merion, at your service. The men all call me 'Scar' behind my back though, and no prizes for guessing why," he said, rubbing the nasty gash on his face. "I was third in command of the Flaming Fist, but now that Angelo's taken charge you could say that makes me second."

"Talk is free, Captain," Jaheira said coolly. "What is it you wish of us?"

"You don't need to be so terse, though I can't say I blame you. As I said, I've been getting reports of you from patrols all up and down the road, from Nashkel to this ogre camp. But these mines were news to me. I wanted to confirm your identities before I talked with you, but you did me the favour of bursting into the Duke's office. Nobody else would be that foolish and brazen, I reckoned."

"Why do you say foolish?" Ajantis said. "The Flaming Fist are the law in this region. To whom else should we bring our news?"

"Timing, friend, timing," Merion replied. "A month ago I'd say you did right, but now you've just likely set us all up for more trouble."

"Why is that?" Jaheira asked.

..........

Merion paused, his face losing the hint of tense humour.

"You understand, what I have to say here isn't easy. I've been in loyal service to the Fist for nearly thirty years, and never once have I gone against orders. But since Angelo's been in charge..."

He broke off. Jaheira sighed a little, her shoulders hunching. She moved away from the man and gestured to a chair.

"We understand. Please, sit and tell us your tale from the beginning."

"I'd rather stand, but you're right," Merion replied. "It all started when Commander Eltan took ill. He's not a young man, mind, but he was strong as an ox—then one day we get word he can't so much as get out of bed. I went to see him in his villa and he was in a right state, boils and...the fever had got him, let's leave it at that. His private healer couldn't do a damn thing for him. He handed the reins over to Dosan and we've barely heard a word out of him since."

"That is unfortunate, but even healthy people can fall prey to illness," Jaheira remarked. "But you said the trouble began when Dosan took command?"

"I can't call it trouble as such, just...you know when something's not right," he said, rubbing his temple. "We've never really been mates, Angelo and me, but we've served together a long time and I've always had respect for him. He's a good officer. But since he's been in charge...it's the little things, you understand? Reports overlooked or gone missing, orders that should've been given that weren't—the only thing he's been keeping up with are the bandits he's sent to the gallows."

"All you say may be due to a simple lack of competence. Although you sound as though you suspect more," Xan said.

"Until this morning I let it slide," Merion continued. "But when he completely dismissed your story, I'll admit I nearly lost it. No sensible officer would throw a report like that in the bin. He didn't even have your letters looked at. Nothing. Why? It doesn't make any sense. The greenest recruit would know better than that."

"Have you heard any reports about the Iron Throne before this?" Ajantis asked.

"Nothing to do with the iron troubles," he admitted. "Their leader here, Rieltar Anchev is a proper piece of work, and his bodyguards all seem to have crawled out of a sewer somewhere. But there's another odd thing. Since they've been in town merchants have been complaining of their strong-arm tactics, but as far as we could see nothing they did was illegal. But now the merchant house that made the most fuss—the Seven Suns—has not only dropped their complaints against them, but they're in talks with the Iron Throne to buy them out! It seems their managers have been making bad investments everywhere and they're near to debtor's prison."

"Seven Suns?" Anna said. "One of the slave women was complaining about them."

"I'm not surprised. The head of the Suns, Henerick Jhasso, is an old friend of mine. He was the sharpest fellow you'd ever hope to meet but now his wife says he can't remember his own name half the time. He locks himself in his office and won't see a soul. It's not like him. We had nothing to connect it to the Throne, but with this mine business and Angelo acting strange it all adds up," the captain said.

"You're right, but what do you want us to do about it? You're the law here, not us," Finn said.

"Exactly my point," Merion replied. "Our hands are tied. I can't go against Angelo without the Duke's order, and we've got nothing solid on the Throne regardless. But there's nothing stopping you from looking into things. You've proved a pretty dab hand at this so far, and maybe you can find what we can't."

"How, exactly?" Ajantis spoke. "I will not submit to skulduggery and underhanded dealings, no matter what the cause. And without any true authority I fail to see how we could do any other."

"I'm not asking you to break into the Iron Throne," Merion said slowly. "But maybe we could organise a little play-acting."

"What do you mean?" Jaheira said.

"Well...we've got a warehouse filled with unclaimed merchandise that we recovered from the bandits. And Mistress Jhasso tells me that they were expecting a consignment from some new trading partners in Cormyr, but they never showed up. If you'd be willing to play along, I reckon we could fit you out as the missing merchants. It would be enough to get you into the Seven Suns. Maybe then you could ask around, maybe even get in to talk with Jhasso."

"There's a great deal of 'maybe's' in your plan, Captain," Jaheira remarked.

"Aye. But I'm at the end of my tether here. There's nothing else I can do. Eltan won't hear a word against Angelo and the other Dukes respect him too much to overrule his decision. But it's clear as day now that the Iron Throne are involved, and something needs to be done. We've got to take a chance. What do you say?"

.........

The party glanced at each other, sharing various looks.

"I am extremely uncomfortable with this idea," Ajantis said. "Even acting on behalf of the Flaming Fist we are still participating in thievery and fraud. Is there no other way?"

"None that I can think of, and believe me I've tried," Merion said. "The board of the Seven Suns won't talk to us, and if they won't make a complaint what can we do? Every man's free to run his business as he sees fit."

"And what would happen to us if our ruse was discovered?" Jaheira asked. "I do not fancy a stay in your prison cells."

"If you get caught I'll do whatever I can to spring you loose, you have my word on that."

"And if you will forgive me for saying, with those of suspect morality outranking you your assurance does not comfort me, Captain," Xan remarked.

"I don't blame you. But I still have a few friends around, and Angelo doesn't need to hear about everything I do. But the choice is yours," Merion said.

There was further silence in the room.

"I think perhaps this warrants further discussion, Captain," Jaheira said finally. "Many of us are acting on behalf of other organisations here and there is a great deal to consider."

"I understand. But the quicker we can act, the better. We're not the only ones who likely know you're in town, and if you've been rattling cages you're going to attract attention. I'll be having supper at the Baldurian Tavern tomorrow. If you want in, head round back to the kitchens—the cook Terrance is a mate of mine. Until then."

He bowed stiffly and turned to Kivan with a look. The elf stared at him with cool eyes but unbolted the door. Without another word the captain pulled his hood up and strode back out the way he'd came. Kivan watched him for a moment, then slowly drew the door shut.

"Well," Finn said, clearing his throat. "What are we going to do about this, then?"


	59. Inside

"The Flaming Fist truly must have exhausted their options if this mad plan is their best idea for bringing the Iron Throne to justice," Ajantis said, shaking his head. "You cannot think to go through with this."

"It is not...entirely mad," Jaheira said slowly. "Risky, yes, but we stand some chance of gaining information."

"Information on what?" Xan remarked. "We know the Iron Throne are behind these troubles. I for one am almost surprised he didn't ask that we charge into their compound and slaughter all that we find. It is not for us to put the Flaming Fist's house in order. I feel we would risk too much, whatever his assurances."

"And if we leave this, justice would not be done," Kivan said. "What of all the innocent blood they have spilled? It cries out from the very soil of this land. I too dislike playing such a ruse but the soldiers are weak here, and we must aid them. Whatever we may achieve it is still better than hiding in this house like mice."

The idea of action seemed to light a fire under the elf and he looked more animated than he'd been since they crossed the river. Ajantis still looked unconvinced.

"Is justice to be equal to vengeance, then?" he asked. "I have suffered great loss at the hands of the Iron Throne, and there is none who would better like to see them in the gallows than I. But we are not the law of this land, and we should not act as such."

A tense silence filled the kitchen. Anna stood with her arms tightly folded but offered no comment. Khalid cleared his throat and Imoen gingerly dusted some flour off the table's edge.

"Don't you think you're all being a little too theoretical?" Finn spoke. "Nobody's asked us to kill anyone here. I wouldn't stick my neck out too far but anything that'll help bring down these bastards, I say we do. They've got it coming."

"Be that as it may, I am still unsure what the captain expects us to accomplish," Xan said, running his long fingers over his chin. "Does he think the Iron Throne is foolish enough to leave incriminating papers lying around where any passer-by can see them?"

"Well, what would the Greycloaks do here then? You must have some tricks up your sleeve," Finn said.

"I am not a spy, if that is what you're insinuating," the elf replied. "And as Ajantis said, this is not our land. Any action I might take here is limited."

"Maybe, but you're pretty good at getting people to tell you things they rather wouldn't. This'd be a snap for you, right?"

"Perhaps, but this is not—" Xan grumbled. "If Anchev himself were here, then yes. But we have nothing to suggest the Seven Suns are criminals. I cannot invade every mind I happen across simply because it would make my life easier. Unfortunately," he added with a sigh.

"But you heard the captain," Finn continued. "Something's up. Maybe they've all been charmed, eh? You'd be doing them a favour."

Xan grimaced but Jaheira spoke.

"It is not quite as easy as that. Mental manipulation has long been a trick of the underhanded merchant and it's certain those at the Seven Suns would be wary of such things, whether from Xan or a competitor. We would need to be careful," she said.

"We should not attempt such a thing, regardless. Using magic to bend wills? There is no greater low," Ajantis remarked.

"I am sorry you think so," the elf said coolly.

"I meant no disrespect," Ajantis replied. "While I am certain you make good use of your enchanter's skills, I will not hide that I find the idea disturbing."

"Can we leave off this?" Finn said, eyeing the strained pair. "It doesn't matter now. Why don't we just go talk to this fellow? We don't need to do anything, just hear him out."

"That may be for the best," Jaheira said. "Let us...rest on this. Silvanus knows I am too tired for argument tonight. Do you want to carry on, Imoen? I suspect we might think better on full stomachs."

She spoke with a kind of sigh and looked around the kitchen with a distracted glance. Imoen pursed her lips.

"Yeah," she answered quietly.

..........

Imoen seemed to compensate for the tension by laying out as elaborate a banquet as the Harpers' larder could provide. And the girl hadn't exaggerated her cooking skills; as she took another bite of flaky crust and spicy, syrupy fruit Anna considered that even Maya couldn't have done better. The silent table ruined her appetite though and each swallow caught in her throat.

Afterwards Anna volunteered for dish duty and refused all offers of help, happy enough to have a quiet moment alone in the pantry. Her headache had increased over the day and it throbbed in her brain with a slow, steady pulse. The plates clattered in a soft way as she moved her hands slowly through the tub. She set a wooden bowl gently on the water and it floated there, bobbing like a little boat on a greasy, soapy sea. Anna regarded it with a weary smile, pleased at her creation. She set the dishrag onto it but the weight proved too much for the craft, sending it drifting away to the bottom.

At last she tugged the dishpan full of dirty water to the door. Night had blanketed the city and a while few glimmers of candlelight shone in the open windows along the row their own garden was solidly black. With a grunt Anna sent the water spraying out onto the stones—but too late she heard a cry barked from the shadows. She tried vainly to stop the water's flight and nearly stumbled down the step in the process.

"Oh, gods, Kivan—I'm sorry, I didn't know you were out there," she said to the grim-looking elf who drifted into view. "Did I get you very wet?"

"Not much," he replied, examining his cloak's damp hem. "Fortunately I moved more swiftly than you."

"I'm sorry." She tried to laugh but Kivan's face didn't show much humour. "Are you keeping watch?"

"No. Jaheira tells me this place's magics keep it guarded well enough. But I do not care to be inside—the air is too stale, and even though the air of this city is filled with smoke I still can see the stars."

Kivan's eyes drifted upwards. He looked towards her but not at her as he spoke, the way he often did. Anna clenched her fingers on the dishpan.

"It's always nice to see the stars," she fumbled. "Well...goodnight."

_"Tenna' tul're," _the elf replied, and slipped back into the shadows. Anna retreated back into the house and quietly shut the door.

.........

She found Khalid, Jaheira and Ajantis talking before the fire but didn't join them; she knew well enough what they would be discussing and had nothing to add. Instead she told them goodnight and mounted the creaking steps to her room. Thankfully there were no spells to memorise and she could just go to sleep.

Opening the door though she was surprised by candlelight, and even more surprised to see Finn reclining on her bed, his arms tucked behind her pillow. The bed was too short for his long frame and his boots rested on the footboard.

"Hey there," he said, stretching further out. "What took you so long?"

"Making yourself comfortable?" Anna muttered in reply.

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't think you'd mind. I wasn't reading your diary or anything—I looked, but I couldn't find it."

He gave her a cheeky grin and Anna shook her head, laughing a little in spite of the pain.

"What are you doing here?"

She sat down on the plain chair by the bedside and braced herself as it wobbled on uneven legs.

"I just wanted to chat," Finn said. "Why not lie down? That chair's in a state, it nearly chucked me onto the floor."

He slid over on the narrow bed and made a space for her. Anna's eyebrow raised at his generosity.

"I'll manage, thank you," she said.

"What's the matter? Not like we haven't cuddled up before."

"Not on a bed," Anna replied, feeling her cheeks pink slightly. The chair sent her rocking back and she grabbed at the side.

_"Aw, _don't be like that," Finn answered. "I'm not going to try anything. What difference does it make, a bed or the forest floor? You can't talk looking like a drunk who's trying to stay upright."

He spoke jokingly but Anna gave him a sour look.

"That's never stopped you before."

Finn's eyes opened in surprise. "Alright, fair enough. I don't want to get on your bad side tonight. I just wanted to talk."

"I'm sorry," Anna said, feeling a twinge of guilt for snapping at him. "I just have an awful headache. It's almost making me ill."

She groaned and rubbed her eyes. Finn sat up on the bed.

"Well, who do you know who's got magic healing hands?"

"Jaheira?"

"Ouch. Come on, sit down here. Let me take care of it," Finn said, patting the bed beside him.

"I don't know..." Anna hesitated.

"I promise to keep my hands above the shoulders," he replied dryly.

"It's not that..." she hesitated again. "It's just—I don't know if it's right. Using your...powers for something trivial. We still don't know where they come from. We don't know what they are."

She hated to say those words, but she couldn't deny them. Finn's humour faded and he regarded her with a look that made her turn away.

"Are you afraid of me, Anna?"

"No," she replied, startled by the question.

"Do you trust me?"

Anna glanced up at him. His face was serious.

"Yes," she said, though she heard a wavering in her voice.

"Then can you trust me enough to know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you? I've spent more time than I care to think pondering where these gifts come from. I admit, I haven't found the answer. But if I thought there was even the slightest chance I might be doing harm I'd never touch you. It's all right. Let me help you."

Anna looked down. Finn remained still on the bed. Slowly she rose up from the wobbling chair and sat down next to him.

.........

Finn pulled back on the bed till he was slightly behind her. He pressed his fingertips against her forehead and Anna drew a breath feeling that bright energy of healing flowing into her, breaking the hammer and releasing the tension. The release was palpable and she shut her eyes, feeling her shoulders truly relax for the first time that day.

Finn kept massaging her temples, running his fingers in soft circles back into her hair and down the lobes of her ears. She shuddered at the light touch but kept her eyes closed as his hands moved down her neck to her shoulders, where he began working her muscles with strong hands.

"Good?" he asked quietly.

Anna made a soft noise in her throat and Finn continued. The movement of his hands lulled her backwards into his body and she didn't resist the motion. As he worked Anna became aware again of that keen, physical closeness she felt with him. She knew she should have him stop. But his hands brought a pleasure that went deeper than the massage and she didn't want it to end. Only when his lips began caressing her neck did she pull away from him.

"That's...enough. Thank you."

She spoke quietly, trying to moisten her dry lips.

"It doesn't need to be," he said, his hands still brushing her shoulders.

"No, Finn, it does."

She pulled his hands down and squeezed them in hers. Finn drew them closer, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You don't feel anything?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she said, moving away slightly as he kissed her neck. "I'm sorry. I know you want more from me, but this is as far as it can go."

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"You know why," she replied.

Finn let out a long breath and released his hold on her. His hands drifted down to her lap where they toyed idly with the silk of her stained mage robe. The fabric caught slightly on his calluses, making a soft noise.

"I am sorry," Anna said again. "What...what is it you wanted to talk about?"

"I forget," he murmured.

She tried to chuckle but it stuck in her throat. Finn pulled her close again, their bodies swaying lightly together. Neither said anything. After a moment he released her waist.

"I should probably get some sleep," he said. "You look knackered too."

He rose up slowly from the bed and Anna looked at him, startled by his serious face.

"You don't need to leave. We can talk," she said.

"No, it can wait. 'Night, pet."

Finn leaned down and kissed her briefly, then slipped out and shut the door behind him. Anna stared at the wood. What had just happened? He seemed so quiet. She felt the absence he left behind and fought against an urge to run after him. But there was nothing to say, really, and certainly nothing to do. With a choke she rose up, blew out the candle and crawled into the empty bed.

..........

The windowless room felt too dark and oppressive for sleep, but it wasn't the atmosphere that kept sleep away as she tossed and turned, lost in her thoughts.

Anna always said she would wait until marriage before letting a man touch her. That was what she was taught. It seemed the right way. Love was meant for a family, her aunt said. It was her proper role, and it never occurred to her that a woman of her standing should do anything _but_ get married.

Even at Silverymoon, where love seemed to flow freely between her classmates she waited. She remembered in particular debates in darkened gardens with a certain young wizard, the point and counter-point, articles of clothing slipped off and on—she won the battles but lost the war. At least her honour was still intact, she tried to console herself, even if her heart wasn't. She always said she would wait until marriage. But then, she always assumed that she'd get married.

It wasn't that she'd never been asked. When she was seventeen a young man took it upon himself to court her. He was a son of a prominent family, a man whom some might describe as a catch. But she found him so dull it destroyed any flattery his attentions might've had. The man would appear like clockwork at her door every few days, filling up the sitting room with his idle chatter, or worse, his silences. So little threat did he seem to be that her father virtually ignored his presence, and she very much did the same. Subtly cruel she was to him, mocking, yet he still came.

She remembered his inevitable proposal well; his soft, slightly pudgy face, his dull blue eyes, his level voice as he recited words of love in a tone more usually reserved for reports. She laughed at him. Laughed! He noticed then. He looked…hurt. The fellow didn't seem capable of anything nearing the indignant rage of a spurned lover, but he looked genuinely pained at her reaction.

Had he been so sure of her acceptance? Anna felt guilt but with her fiery young pride she hated him at that moment. She was pretty, she was going to be a mage, why should he ever think she wanted to marry him, the boring son of a local merchant family? No…he went away, and never came back.

Her father moved them around a good deal, and the studies he kept her working on left little time for the socialising girls her age enjoyed. There were other young men, precious few, but they all slipped away. She eventually joined her father in Beregost, where needless to say the numbers of appealing men weren't high. Instead she focused on her work, always still assuming in her romantic way that fate would one day play its hand and bring the man she'd been waiting for to her door. As more empty years drifted by though she began to doubt her faith.

But perhaps it finally had? Finn had his faults, but he did genuinely seem to care for her. Perhaps she'd been too hard on him. If nothing else the years alone gave her time to consider her mistakes. But there were no guarantees. She could lose either way. At last Anna could think no more and she faded off into an empty sleep.

..........

She awoke to a dark chamber, but the daylight filtering in from under the crack in the door told her the sun had long since risen. Anna fumbled out of bed and lit the candle with a quick spell so she could see to dress. She began to brush out her hair, but found herself staring at her reflection in the small mirror. The candlelight reflecting off the greenish glass couldn't be called flattering but she knew it wasn't to blame for the tiredness she saw.

Her eyes seemed too far apart and earnest, and there were shadows living there that she didn't recall. Her cheekbones were more angular than they once were but considering the effect was a result of too many meagre meals of plain bread and stew she couldn't call it an improvement. With a sigh she drew up her braids and went blinking into the sunlight of the hall.

She found Imoen, Ajantis and Xan in the sitting room. Imoen sat near the knight, talking enthusiastically about some subject that eluded Anna's ears. The elf glanced up from his reading and graced her with a brief nod before turning his eyes back to his book. Imoen however failed to notice her until Ajantis rose and bowed.

"Good morning, my lady. I am pleased to see you looking so radiant this day," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Anna replied politely, wondering to herself what unlikely school of flattery the knight had attended.

"Hm, radiance doesn't really suit a prisoner," Imoen said with a laugh, trying to ignore his compliment. "But I've still got it in spades!"

"Prisoner?" Anna asked.

"Yeah. Jaheira's not letting anyone out of the house today. She's got us all under lock and key."

"Why?"

"The ease with which the Flaming Fist captain discovered this house has them concerned," Ajantis said. "And if they could find us, it seems likely that the Iron Throne could as well. She thought we should not risk any other unnecessary journeys around the city."

Anna sat down into a chair with a noise, not much pleased at the news.

"Where's Finn?" she asked, feeling oddly nervous at the question.

"Still in his room, I suppose," Imoen answered. "What a lie-abed!"

She laughed at the ironic comment and went back to her conversation. Anna sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of her imprisonment bearing down on her. She would gladly part with all she owned for the endless game of hide-and-seek to be over, once and for all.

.........

"Are you still unwell, Lady Anna?" Ajantis asked.

She jerked up her head, surprised by the question.

"No, I'm fine," she replied.

"And I do not like to throw doubt on a lady's declaration, but sometimes I must," he said, smiling gently.

Anna felt almost startled by his keenness, but not for anything would she have related the truth of her troubles. Before she could reply though Imoen suddenly rose out of her chair.

"I think I've got something to do in the kitchen," she said.

"What?" Anna asked.

"I don't know, but I'll find it," the girl responded, and swished her skirts out of the room.

The pair watched her go with surprise, and Xan even glanced up at the sudden movement.

"Have I offended her in some way?" Ajantis asked quietly. "She seems to take umbrage at the simplest of remarks, I have noticed."

The knight spoke with such a sincere innocence that Anna wondered if it was possible he truly had no idea of Imoen's intentions.

"Well, she is a...young girl," she hesitated. "They can be easily offended."

"So it would appear," he replied, then let out a long sigh of his own. "She is bright and decent-hearted, but I...confess I do not know how to engage her in conversation. I feel it is rude of me, but I cannot match her colloquialisms nor her enthusiasm."

He spoke gravely and Anna tried hard to suppress a short laugh.

"You should address her as you would any lady," she replied. "Is she so different?"

"Different? The ladies I have known speak of poetry and music—but just last eve she told me a tale of a barmaid that I could scarce believe came from the mouth of a young girl. What can I say to her?"

"You might be honest, and say such talk makes you uncomfortable."

"Easier said than done, my lady," Ajantis remarked. He leaned forward slightly, as if to see if the girl was within earshot. "Truth be told—I fear her attention may have some design."

Anna didn't know how to respond and looked around the room for words. Xan's mouth twitched, she noticed, though what humour resided in the ponderous-looking tome she couldn't imagine.

"And would you be pleased if she had?" Anna said.

Ajantis gave her his own sympathetic look.

"No, my lady. I am flattered by her attentions, but I cannot return them. You must see that this is so."

Although Anna never expected to hear him say differently, a part of her twitched in Imoen's defence.

"But as you say, she is bright and good-hearted. Perhaps she is too...enthusiastic, but she speaks with the excitement of youth. Give her time, and perhaps—"

"No, this cannot be."

.........

Anna glanced at him, surprised at his interruption.

"I have mentioned it to no one, but," the knight paused. "My good mother has not abandoned her desire to see her only surviving son married, and by her recent letters I believe she may have found a suitable match. No betrothal has been arranged however, and I—"

"You expect to be married?" Anna said, interrupting him in further surprise. "You should have told Imoen of this, if you even suspected she held affection for you."

The knight stared down at the carpet, rubbing his chin almost forcefully. Xan glanced up from his book, but slowly turned his eyes back to the page.

"I know it. I know I have wronged her," Ajantis sighed. "I suppose as I knew that nothing would ever come of it, I somehow assumed she felt the same. It was foolish of me, but in truth I know more about armour than a lady's heart."

Anna leaned back in her chair. Ajantis kept his eyes down, still running his hand over his chin.

"Who is this lady, then?" she asked quietly.

"The daughter of a wealthy landowner near Murann. He has many daughters, I gather, and despairs at finding suitable bridegrooms for them all. Lady Jacinda is her name, and she has just this year come of age," Ajantis said darkly.

Anna felt somewhat queasy at the revelation, and she noticed Xan biting his lip. Ajantis' eyes narrowed at the elf but he said nothing to him.

"That seems some distance to find a bride," Anna replied, searching for something to say.

"The last lady I was betrothed to came from further away," Ajantis remarked.

"You were betrothed before?" she said, growing even more surprised.

"Yes, but the agreement was dissolved."

Anna stared at the knight, unsure of what to think, and hoped that Imoen didn't decide to reappear. Ajantis rubbed his neck.

"I do not doubt you have questions, my lady," he said. "There was no scandal, and the lady was of the highest virtue. However I cannot say either family was pleased with my decision."

"Your decision?"

"Yes. It is the custom amongst the Amnish nobility to arrange their children's marriages, but it is a business contract first and foremost, as is everything in my country," he said, his lip curling. "I felt I could not fulfil this contract and as a man of majority age it was my right to break it. With damages paid, of course."

Xan made a soft noise in his throat and the knight turned to him.

"If you must sit there and eavesdrop at least have the courage to speak your mind like a man, rather than tutting like an old woman."

"I am not lurking around the corner, as others are," the elf replied. "If you truly desired privacy you should have chosen somewhere else to speak. Whatever your customs happen to be, I have no comment. They are yours, not mine."

Ajantis stood up quickly and for one moment Anna thought he might challenge him. Xan raised his head and regarded him with a level look, though his eyes were keen. Anna heard a faint rustling near the kitchen door and the knight's shoulders dropped.

"It does not matter," he said, letting out a long sigh. "Excuse me, my lady. I have something I must attend."

.........

Ajantis bowed stiffly and walked up the stairs, his firm, heavy gait causing them to groan underfoot. Anna glanced at the kitchen door, but whoever was standing there did not appear. She twisted her hands in her lap and looked at Xan.

"How long was she there for?"

"Long enough, I imagine."

Anna sighed and looked to the cold fireplace. Xan went back to his book but after a moment he spoke, almost to himself.

"Arranged marriages—I can almost think of nothing worse. I don't know why they simply do not call it for what it is, slavery. A child sold to the highest bidder with no regard to love."

"It is terrible," Anna said, smoothing her robe. "Thankfully such things are rare in the Dales, and in Cormyr it's only strictly practiced by the royalty, who do their best to preserve family lines."

"It is still little excuse."

"Are there no such customs amongst the elves?" she asked.

"No, thank Corellon," Xan said with a slight shudder. "Not for a very long time. Although some matches are more...encouraged than others."

"You might be forbidden from marrying someone?"

"Not forbidden, no," he said slowly. "But if a member of the nobility, for example, were to choose a commoner to be his bride it would create tension in the family, and earn him subtle hints that a more suitable match might be made."

He trailed off with a sigh and glanced out the window.

"You are of the nobility," Anna remarked.

"Yes, but—I was not speaking of personal experience, before you ask."

His voice had a slight edge of ruffled propriety that brought a smile to Anna's face.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, quite," he replied, regarding her with a frown. "And I would prefer not to carry this conversation further."

"Oh, but why?" she said, her smile growing wider. "I should like to hear more."

Xan looked up from his book, his jaw set.

"Very well, then," he said, turning to her. "Let us talk of our personal lives. Why are you not married? Aren't you of an age where the humans begin to refer to you as an 'old maid'? Forgive me if I've added incorrectly."

Anna's smile dropped like a stone and she stared at him in surprise.

"Now you see," Xan said, and turned back to his book.

Anna remained frozen for a moment, her face turning red. Xan continued reading peacefully as though she were never in the room. Mustering all her dignity she stood up and walked to the elf, and slammed the book in his lap shut with a hard clap. Whatever his reaction was she didn't see as she avoided his eyes on her way to the stairs.

..........

She paused at the top, trying to make her heart stop pounding. _Old maid. Hedgewitch. _Xan truly knew how to find the words. She couldn't go back downstairs, but neither could she bear the idea of sitting in her windowless room. Anna glanced up at the attic steps, leading steeply into darkness. With a deep breath she lightly set a foot onto the bottom step. It creaked. She pulled back for a moment, then forced herself onto the stairs.

The wood walls were close around her and she braced herself against them for balance as there was no handrail. She felt the air change as she stepped into the attic but the doors were all shut and there was little light to guide her.

Anna paused outside the first door. Daylight flowed from under the frame, but all seemed still inside. She moved on to the next. No light issued from within and she only knew the door from the wall by touch. Silence again. She thought to knock but hesitated somehow, and moved onwards.

What looked like candlelight penetrated the next door; it must be windowless, the same as hers. Inside she heard a faint clanking, a sound of metal. She raised her fist to knock but thought suddenly of Ajantis—only the knight would be polishing his armour in the middle of the afternoon. There was only one door left.

Sunlight penetrated the cracks in the door and her heart leaped seeing a shadow pass by. She heard the creak of floorboards and the sound of subtle noises within. Anna stood listening to them like a mouse in the darkness, trying to determine what each one might mean. A strangely panicked voice crept up from somewhere, telling her to go back downstairs. She hesitated a moment more, then rapped lightly on the door.

Anna heard the latch working and her stomach jumped with nerves. She stepped back, but then stared in surprise at the figure who appeared.

.........

"Khalid?" she asked.

"Yes, the l-last I heard," he replied, giving her one of his shy smiles. "Can I h-help you?"

"I—no. I was just looking for Finn," she said.

Her mouth twitched trying to match his smile, but the half-elf's faded.

"You won't f-find him here. He must have sneaked out this m-morning."

"He did?" Anna said.

She felt like someone had struck her, though why she didn't know. Khalid nodded.

"Yes. I n-needed to look at some papers that are in his r-room, and he wasn't here. I know he's not in the house. I didn't tell Jaheira. She's b-been tense enough, and she takes t-too much notice of him, regardless."

Anna glanced up at him. His fine face seemed lined and strained as it had the day before.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" she asked.

"That one?" Khalid said sharply. "Don't worry about h-him. The g-gods almost seem to be looking after him, and m-making more trouble for us to balance it out."

Anna didn't know how to reply, but Khalid's smile returned.

"Are you looking for s-something to do? I could use some help working through these b-books, if you don't mind."

"Yes, of course," she said, shaking herself. "What is it you're looking for?"

"References to the Iron Throne, and the n-name Anchev. Harpers keep good annals, b-but nothing is organised very well here."

He ushered her into the small room. The walls were lined with shelves and they were practically bursting with books and parchment scrolls, in numbers that could easily match the small library downstairs. Anna's eyes were drawn to the bed. The pillow was flattened and the sheets were mussed, the coverlet hanging halfway down the bed. Finn's pack rested on top. The buckles were open and some of the contents spilled out onto the sheets.

"I'd have done up the b-bed, but I didn't want t-to touch his things," Khalid said, following her gaze. "Do you want to t-take that stack th-there?"

.........

Anna nodded and lugged out a number of heavy books. She took a chair by the window and faithfully opened the tome, scanning the pages for any reference to their quarry. Khalid moved on to another stack and sat with his back to her while he sorted through the bookcase.

She worked with a will for awhile, glad to have something else to occupy her mind. But her eyes grew tired and she found herself glancing more often out the window. The blue sky gradually dulled as a grey sheet of clouds moved in from the sea. Anna glanced down at their garden, and the gardens of their neighbours.

They all looked the same; little patches of flagstones bordered by scraggly bits of green and surrounded by brick walls. The refuse of civilisation filled them all—a broken barrel here, bits of sodden rags there. The bones of a small animal littered the garden next door, cast onto the stones after supper, their divinations ignored.

A black cat marched proudly along the walls, his stride interrupted by something Anna couldn't see. He changed his path and disappeared into a garden. Noticing movement down below she craned her neck to see Imoen. The girl wandered aimlessly in the small space, regarding the rubbish. Eventually she knelt and began picking small flowers from the weeds in the border, holding them in her hand as though they were the finest of Turmish roses.

Anna heard a faint tapping on the glass. Rain began to strike softly, driven by the distant sea breeze. She watched it pattering, almost hypnotised until more movement caught her eye. A man walked up the alley hooded and cloaked, but Anna recognised his gait. He paused at the garden door and looked around him like a guilty schoolboy, but then breezed inside. Anna drew a breath hearing Imoen's muffled surprise and his laconic reply.

The pair approached the house and she faintly heard the sound of the kitchen door closing, and the far more audible sound of Jaheira's voice rising up through the floor. Khalid raised his head, listening, then turned back to his parchment, his body moving with a sigh that Anna saw more than heard. She let out a long breath, and looked back out at the rain.


	60. Change in the Winds

Anna heard the heavy sound of Finn's feet on the stairs, chased up by Jaheira's shrill tones. He shouted something in reply and Anna cringed as she'd done so often before. The footsteps pounded fast up the attic stairs and Khalid stood up as Finn burst into the room.

"What's all this?" he said, looking around at the chaos of papers and books.

His cheeks were red and his eyes looked like fire. Anna rose to her feet as well, feeling somehow conscious of her intrusion.

"We have research to do," Khalid replied. "I d-did knock, but you weren't here."

"What is the matter?" Anna heard a voice say, and peered around Finn to see Ajantis standing in the hall.

"Nothing's the matter, except I came back to find a little party in my room," Finn said.

"I severely doubt there have been any festivities in your absence," the knight said. "And this house belongs to the Harpers, regardless. Is it worth shaking the entire building over?"

"I think it is, yeah," Finn snapped back.

"Then I apologise," Khalid said. "Clearly we should've w-waited till you returned to f-find information about the Iron Throne, if we knew it w-would _inconvenience _you so. We have a meeting tonight, in case y-you've forgotten."

The half-elf adopted a tone snatched straight from his wife's mouth and Finn's eyes narrowed.

"Right. Well, if you don't mind?" he said, gesturing his thumb to the door.

"Khalid has done nothing wrong," Ajantis continued. "He has spent many hours here working for all our benefit while you have been gadding about the city. And I must say—I find your attitude at times to be appalling. If we were in the halls of the Order I would assign you latrine duty for your insolence."

His words seemed to take everyone by surprise, not least the knight. Anna took a step back but Finn just scowled harder.

"Hey, it's scrubbing bogs what made me the man I am today. Now if the moral lesson's over?"

...

Khalid's lip curled but he gathered up some books and brushed past Finn into the hall. Ajantis looked at Finn for a moment, then at Anna, but he sighed and strode firmly down the stairs. Anna moved to follow him but Finn held out a hand.

"I didn't mean you."

He slammed the door shut behind him. Anna flinched at the noise and stood uncomfortably, clutching at her wrists. Finn didn't appear to notice.

"Gods, what the hells is wrong with people?" he demanded, shoving aside his pack and sitting down hard onto the bed. "I'm sick of asking permission to even take a shite. Even the monks weren't this bad. Nobody else gets this kind of treatment, why am I the lucky one?"

"Where were you?" Anna asked.

He yanked open his cloak clasp and tossed the garment into a ball on the floor.

"Just out, wandering around. I wanted a little time to myself."

"Oh."

Finn glared at the floor and drew a deep breath, but when he looked up at her a strained smile was on his face.

"I know I should've asked you to come—it wasn't decent of me to leave you at the mercy of this place all day. But I needed to get away quick and you weren't up yet."

He held out a hand and she took it. He pulled her down into his lap where he gave her a cuddle and a kiss, but Anna stayed stiff.

"I got you something, though. I didn't forget about my girl!"

"What is it?" she asked quietly.

"Here, shift a little and I'll show you. I hope they're not all squashed."

Finn promptly slid Anna over onto the bed and began fumbling through a bag on his belt. He pulled out a small paper parcel and held it up with triumph.

"These are proper nice," he said. "I had a few already. Sorry."

Anna gingerly unwrapped the paper, revealing a handful of elaborate sweets that perfectly resembled flowers. The bright colours of their petals shone like glass though some were cracked and broken into dust at the bottom of the parcel.

"They look nice," she said, still quiet.

"You can have one, you know, they're not for keeping," Finn said, looking at her. "But don't worry, I didn't just get you a bag of moldy sweets. Here."

He reached into the bag again and drew out a small wooden box. Anna opened the lid and her mouth fell open in surprise. Resting on the wool was a pretty pair of earrings—warm, filigreed gold with green cabochons, and a small pearl set below. Anna held them in her hands and touched them delicately.

"I noticed your ears are pierced, though I don't remember ever seeing you wear earrings," Finn said. "I hope you like them. I thought they matched your eyes."

"They're beautiful," Anna said.

A broad, sheepish smile spread over his face at her quiet admiration of the gift. He looked so boyish and sweet she found it hard to believe a moment earlier he was storming up the stairs in a fit of temper.

"Thank you," she said, and leaned in to give him a kiss.

"Well, now I know you like them..."

He reached into the bag again and pulled out another box, holding it up with a crooked grin. Anna laughed and shook her head as she drew open the lid to find a matching necklace.

"Finn—this is beautiful. You must have spent so much on these, though."

_"Meh," _he said, shrugging his shoulders. "What else am I going to do with my coin? Best to give it to you. They weren't too much. I mean—they cost a proper king's ransom," he coughed. "I had to hire porters to help me carry all that gold. You should probably reward me, right now."

"If you say so," Anna laughed, and gave him another kiss.

"Ah, you can do better than that. Put some effort in, woman!"

...

Anna squealed as Finn pulled her down onto the bed, placing little kisses all over while mercilessly tickling her anywhere he thought might result in even louder peals of laughter. She fought back till her eyes were wet and her insides were exhausted with the effort of laughing.

Finn began kissing her more gently and Anna stretched out feeling a sharp little pain on her scalp.

_"Ow," _she muttered. "Your pack buckles are caught in my hair."

"Oh, sorry," Finn chuckled, and helped draw the blonde strands away from the claws.

Anna sat up and ran her hands over her hair, trying to determine the extent of the damage. Finn pushed the pack onto the floor and propped himself on his elbow to look at her.

"Why don't you wear your hair down? We're in the city now, no bugs to worry about anymore."

"We just haven't stayed at the right inn, then," she said ruefully. "And it's just the way a woman wears her hair."

Finn said nothing. There was something of that look in his eyes, the one she saw last night. Anna hesitated for a moment, then slowly drew out the pins that held up her long braids. She let them slide down and he took one up in his hands, where he ran his fingers over it thoughtfully.

"So, did I miss anything here today?" he said, still regarding her hair.

Anna sighed. "Well, I'm sure Imoen will tell you all about it."

"She did seem more pie-eyed than usual," he replied.

Finn shut his eyes and leaned back on the bed with a little groan. He hadn't shaved again, Anna noticed, and that stubble she'd grown familiar with was getting heavy. She resolved grimly to buy him a decent razor the first chance she had.

His eyes stayed closed and she watched him lying there. Finn's tunic collar was open and she recalled somehow that time she watched him changing, far away in the Friendly Arm. She remembered his shape, the way his body moved. Such a simple motion, but she remembered. Finn's eyes drew open again and she caught a breath.

"All right?" he asked, his mouth curling into a smile.

She nodded. Finn reached out, inviting her down onto the bed. She accepted and he wrapped his arms around her. Anna could feel the coolness of his pillow on her cheek and the rough wool of the blankets underneath. They had his scent. She opened her eyes and watched him kissing her, watched as his lips found their way down her neck.

She reached up and slowly drew open the laces at her collar. Finn smiled and slipped his fingers in with hers. He kissed the skin of her chest, making it hot with his breath and the rough touch of his unshaven skin. Anna let out a slight moan and he slowly drew back.

"I think that's...enough for now," he said, trying to draw a breath.

Finn's cheeks were flushed and he shifted his body away from her. He stared out the window, looking blankly into the darkening grey sky. Without thought her hand drifted up and touched his sleeve. It didn't seem to be her hand, moving instead with a will of its own. She let her fingers explore the fabric, feeling the shape of his arm underneath. Finn looked down at her but she continued her caress.

She turned her eyes from his gaze, looking back at his body. Her heart pounded but she felt strangely calm—a false feeling, she knew. Finn took her exploring hand and she drew a sharp breath.

"They'll come looking for us soon," he said quietly.

"Yes," Anna said.

She squeezed his hand in hers, still unable to meet his gaze. Finn looked at her, looking as though he was trying to decipher her soft touch. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Do you want me to lock the door?"

The heat in her finally burst and she looked to him. He regarded her with parted lips, waiting for her response.

"...Yes."

Her body shook with that word. Something passed over Finn's face, a look she didn't understand. He kissed her and rose up from the bed, then drew the bolt closed.

He stood by the bedside and pulled off his jerkin and tunic, then his boots, then slowly undid his belt. Anna inched back on the bed, watching him, not daring to breathe. He undid his trousers and they too fell to the floor.

Finn didn't seem real to her somehow, standing there on the rug. His flesh was alive, strong and defined, but he wasn't real. The room itself lost its reality, so changed from that mundane little chamber where she waited, cramped, her eyes running over endless lines of notes. Slowly she reached up and touched her amulet, wondering if she was still real. Finn came to her and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the heat of his skin and trying to make sense of his new kiss.

...

Anna rested with her head on Finn's shoulder. Her fingers traced little lines in the hair on his breastbone. It rose and fell with his breath, feeling slightly damp to her touch. Strange, to notice the little differences between his man's body and her own. It seemed obvious but she never really knew. His skin was different than hers. It felt different. It smelled different.

Finn ran his arm over her bare shoulders, drawing her closer to him. His eyes were open and his head rested against the pillow as he stared at the ceiling. He said nothing though and Anna seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

"All right?" he asked quietly, finally, regarding her with a little smile.

She nodded her head and tried to smile back.

"Are you?" she asked.

His smile widened at the question.

"Yeah, love."

He squeezed her tight and Anna laid her head on his skin again. The room was nearly dark now, filled only by the thinnest shadows. The rain had increased and it pattered against the window as if it had some message to relate. A burst hit the roof above and filled the room with the liquid sound.

Reality drifted back to her in short waves, driven by the sound of the rain. She'd felt almost like an observer in her own body during their lovemaking, the touch and sensation drawn in by someone other than herself. It seemed different somehow from the whispered stories that made her blush at the academy, different from the novels passed from hand to hand, not meant for reading in public. She moved her hips and felt a twinge of pain; that was real enough, at least.

"You surprised me though," Finn said quietly. "I didn't think you wanted this."

Anna's face grew hot.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not," he chuckled, squeezing her again.

Anna drew in a deep breath then slowly let it out again. She thought of the others downstairs. She'd have to face them, to look them in the eyes. What if they heard? What if they could tell? The thought drove her and she sat up quickly, wrapping the covers around her body.

"You don't need to get dressed that fast," he joked, rising and caressing her back.

"Finn—"

"What is it?"

He drew himself closer to her. She felt his breath on her shoulder and she winced.

"It's all right," he said quietly.

"Is it?" she asked, more to herself that him.

"Yes, it is."

Finn wrapped his arms around her.

"Don't worry. It'll feel better next time," he said into her hair.

He meant the words to sound comforting but a shock ran through her body—she hadn't thought about a next time. Did she really think he'd only want her once? She felt her foolishness strike her as she realised she had no idea what he'd want.

Finn seemed to notice her tension and he loosened his hold.

"Did you...did you like it at all?"

"Yes," she stammered, but the question was so far from her thoughts she felt tears coming into her eyes.

"Okay, then," he replied quietly.

She reached up and clutched at his arms and he pulled her close again. He pressed his cheek against hers, brushing his lips gently against her skin.

"You know, I...I think I'm in love with you, Anna."

"Finn?"

She stared off into the darkened room, wondering again if she were dreaming.

"Yeah." He laughed softly but his voice had a strange wobble. "I think so. I look at you and I think, 'that's my lady'. I like that. I've never felt that before. I just want to...hold on to you. How limp does that sound?"

Anna laughed with him but she couldn't answer.

"So I just...wanted you to know that."

He pulled her closer still. Anna choked; the tears finally broke through and fell dripping from her face. He felt them and raised his hand to help her wipe them on.

"Gods, don't cry. You know, if I thought this jewellery thing would work so well I'd have tried it ages ago."

Anna let out a laugh. She kept laughing and Finn joined in. They held each other in the darkness, listening to the sound of the rain. Anna drew a deep, shaking breath. A smile grew on her face. The world still wasn't real, but she found herself beginning to like it.

...

They stumbled around each other trying to find their clothes; Finn suggested lighting the candle but Anna suddenly felt too shy to look him in the face. She kissed him once more and slipped away quickly as she could to her own little chamber.

She lit the candle and stared blinking into the glass, searching for what she didn't know. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair mussed, but beyond that she looked the same. She smiled nervously into the glass and the woman on the other side smiled back.

Anna washed and repaired her appearance as much as possible. She could hear the voices and noises of the others downstairs but she stayed in her room. It suddenly hit her that she was very hungry, but she stayed hidden. Eventually though she heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a knock on her door.

She drew it open with a nonchalance that seemed gifted from heaven but it predictably faded under Jaheira's gaze.

"We are going to the tavern now, if you wish to join us."

"Do you want me to go?" she asked, faltering.

"That is generally the point of asking," the druid replied, looking her over in a way that made Anna more uncomfortable.

"Is everyone going?"

"No, that would attract too much attention. Xan, Ajantis and myself shall go, and you may join us."

Anna felt puzzled at being included in that group but she asked the more obvious question.

"What about Finn?"

"He has had...enough exercise for today," she said coolly.

Anna started but if there was hidden weight in Jaheira's words she couldn't find it. Before she could speak she heard footsteps on the attic stairs. She caught her breath again as Finn emerged, fastening his cloak around his shoulders.

"Time to go?" he asked, avoiding Anna's flushed gaze.

"We are going, yes," Jaheira replied, a strange tone in her voice.

"Alright, then," Finn said.

He looked Jaheira directly in the eye. A spark rose up somewhere in the druid but she drove it aside with a stiff little toss of her head.

"Very well. Meet us downstairs."

She walked briskly past him down to the sitting room. Anna watched her go in surprise. Finn stared after her as well but he too shook off his mood.

"You feeling up to this?" he asked, giving her a little grin.

"I'll manage," she said, smirking back.

"Good." He kissed her on the nose and Anna made a face. "Downstairs then. Yesterday!"

Anna laughed and pinched his sleeve. She snatched her cloak from the nail where it hung in the bedroom and followed him downstairs.

...

The sitting room was bright with firelight but Anna stayed near the staircase and kept her eyes down as much as she could. Xan barely glanced in their direction as they entered the room; his own hood was up and he looked predictably grim. Ajantis bowed to her as he always did and she thought again how odd it was seeing him out of his armour, like a part of him was missing. If ever a man more suited to wearing heavy plate walked the land she couldn't imagine one.

Imoen gave Anna an almost stricken look that no doubt stemmed from the overheard story of Ajantis' romance, and it made her feel somewhat relieved that their mission would spare her having to engage the girl in a potentially awkward conversation. Kivan stayed to the shadows and Khalid spoke with his wife, mostly ignoring the pair of newcomers.

"Well, now that we are all here, shall we be on?" Jaheira said.

She gave Anna another rather sharp glance and the mage turned her eyes to the carpet. Though Anna was conscious of every little twitch and look no one else seemed to suspect anything was out of the ordinary, and she let out a breath in relief. Finn took her hand and she followed the others out into the wet night.

The rain fell steadily, the drops glinting in the street lamps' light and soaking into her hood. It kept most people off the street and Anna thought the weather might be a boon after all; fewer people to see meant fewer people that might tell of their presence.

Anna didn't know the Baldurian Tavern but Jaheira led the little group swiftly through town, her feet walking with purpose. Except for Anna and Finn they walked single file, and all in silence. Warm light spilled out of the houses and pubs they passed—laughter and talk, music, a man clearing his throat, the noise of stabled animals, they all mingled together to make the comforting little sounds of a city, hidden though they were from the rain.

Anna squeezed Finn's hand. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, as much as she could see beyond the edge of her hood. His own gaze wandered around the streets but he didn't loosen his grip. Though he was covered by hood and cloak she suddenly recalled his skin, the strange but pleasing feel of his bare flesh against her own. Again that unreality hit her and she drew her hand away from his.

Jaheira led them downhill towards the city walls, down to a quieter part of the business district where the more staid merchants would meet to discuss trade and politics over glasses of fine port. They passed a number of taverns and inns, each overflowing with the low murmur of respectable activity.

Through the rain Anna saw the sign of Balduran hanging over the door of a stone building. Looking through the windows she caught a glimpse of maids busily carving roasted goose and ham and other meats to fill the bellies of the patrons who sat in the plush common room. Anna's stomach barely had time to cry out before they disappeared from view as the druid led them cautiously into the alley behind the tavern.

They found the door to the tavern yard open, a sure sign their date hadn't been forgotten. Jaheira rapped on the kitchen door and a sturdy-looking man in a leather apron yanked it open, looking at the lot of them through narrow eyes.

"Good evening, my man," Jaheira said in a tone that made no mention of their strange entrance. "Are you by chance the cook Terrance?"

"Aye," the man replied.

"Excellent. I believe we have friends here who are expecting us, if you would kindly point the way?"

The cook peered out into the gloom, examining the group as if they might be wearing signs that confirmed their identity. He sighed though and opened the door wider.

"Right, then. Come on this way and don't fall behind. I've still got my share of work here, you know."

...

He led them through the hot kitchen, pausing long enough to stir a pot and bark a rebuke at a manservant whose pastry arrangements didn't suit his standards. He mounted the narrow service stairs and led them up, twice moving aside for harried maids carrying trays of empty dishes.

The cook stepped out into a carpeted hall. The wool muffled the sounds of their feet, and from behind the doors Anna could hear the likewise gentle tones of diners who had paid for private rooms. The cook paused and rattled the lock on the next-to-last door in the hall before knocking on its neighbour.

"It's Terrance. Just bringing you your friends like you asked," he said to the figure who replied.

The door opened a crack, revealing a scarred face.

"Good then. See you, mate," Merion said to the cook. "You still up for the fight tomorrow?"

"Sure am, even more so if you get the ales in like you promised."

"Never fear, I'm a man of my word," Merion laughed. "Though knowing you I'll be in the poorhouse by teatime."

The cook muttered something in reply and hurried back to the kitchens with a wave of his hand. Merion ushered the little group into the room.

"He's a top fellow, is Terrance," the captain said. "Got a heart of gold, though if word of that ever got out he'd skip town. I'm glad you folks decided to show."

"Yes, well, your offer was an interesting one, though we still have not decided on it one way or another," Jaheira said.

She lowered her hood and paused slightly, her eyes focused on the room's other occupants. Two young men stood off to the side; one stood practically at attention, his ordinary clothes not hiding the fact that he was likely a member of the Flaming Fist. The other leaned up against the mantle, pushing aside a fine knee-length cloak that swept around his velvet doublet. He regarded the newcomers with curiosity but didn't move.

Anna's attention was drawn primarily to the well-dressed woman at the table though, likely due to the sharp bark that issued from the small ball of fur sitting on her lap. The little dog shook and whined at the newcomers but the woman silenced it with a caress.

"Hush, Spicer," she said. "Are these your people, Telvin?"

"It's them, Lavinia," the captain replied. "Folks, this good lady here is Mistress Jhasso. I imagine she'll have more to say to you than I will tonight. And these two young fellows are her son, Edmund, and my lieutenant Andris, who you led on a little tour of the city yesterday."

The stiff-looking man looked slightly embarrassed and the well-dressed young man smirked.

"The captain tells me you can be trusted. I will rely on his judgement in these matters, though it is so difficult to know on whom one can place trust in these times," Mistress Jhasso said after the short introductions. She tucked a grey curl behind her cap and continued. "But there seems little left to do now except throw caution to the wind. We may well be ruined either way, but at least this way we will have a fighting chance. Please, sit."

She gestured to the table and all but the stiff young man sat down; he moved instead towards the door and stood at attention. Despite the seriousness of their mission Anna sat on her hands to keep from reaching for the platters of meat and pastries whose fragrance began taunting her. Mistress Jhasso took up a flagon of wine and began pouring out drinks.

"Perhaps some...background would be helpful," she said as she worked. "When my husband first began in business it was just him and his wagon running merchandise between the city and the villages. I would stay at home and manage the accounts with our babes clinging to my knee, while Henerick would be gone for days. We both have poured our sweat and tears into this venture, and we've built it up to be one of the finest consortiums on the Sword Coast. Which is why I cannot accept that it would all fall to dust in a matter of months! Henerick's grandfather went mad, they say. But men do not fall into madness overnight. I cannot think..."

Her hand began to shake on the flagon and her voice wobbled.

_"Ah, _Lavinia," the captain said gently. "Shall I do that?"

"What? Oh, no," she replied, steadying herself. "If I cannot even pour wine I shall be little use rescuing our business. Now, where was I? Our business is made up of a number of independent merchants who have pooled their resources for purchasing and shipping, and as the primary stakeholder my husband has the final say in all decisions. But last year the Iron Throne came to this city and there isn't a merchant in town who doesn't curse the moment they were let through the gates. Immediately they began undercutting us, making better deals to the smaller merchants to lure them away. Some even told stories of threats, though they were all too afraid to go before the law. This has been happening all over town but these criminals refuse to be caught."

"Yes," the captain said, taking advantage of a pause. "We investigated where we could but couldn't find anything to charge them with."

"No one is blaming you, Telvin," Mistress Jhasso said. "If anything I blame the Dukes. Some of them have sat in the palace too long, if you ask me. It's time this city had some new blood."

She spoke with conviction and the captain's face turned sour for a moment, but he said nothing.

...

"But that was not the worst of it," the woman continued, passing around the drinks but ignoring the food. "After bleeding our business dry the Iron Throne actually had the nerve to approach us with an offer of _consolidation_. That Anchev had the gall to smile and pretend to be a gallant knight come to our rescue—he said he could not bear to see a family's business destroyed and such fine people left in ruin. _Hmph! _Our daughter found him quite appealing, but I know a fox when I see one."

"Celia finds the man who comes to clear out the gutters appealing, Mother," Edmund said from over the top of his wine goblet. "It's in her nature."

"And I'd sooner she eloped with that gutter-rat rather than spend a minute alone with that Anchev," his mother spat. "He...troubles me somehow. Something about him is not right."

Her keen face fell and she grew thoughtful. Xan cleared his throat and spoke.

"Pardon me, but the captain told us your husband had been acting strangely. Might I ask for details? What exactly has he been doing?"

The woman shook her head and scratched the sleeping dog's ears.

"That is the worst of all. He left for work one day and came home a different man. A wife can tell, my good elf, and even if he had never said a word I would know something was wrong. He forgets things. He stares at me like...like I was a stranger, and he grows angry if I remind him. Even his oldest friends have noticed. He talks in his sleep but his words make no sense. It's almost as though he's repeating what he needs to do in the morning. He's never done that before. Henerick isn't well, and I don't know what to do."

She looked almost like tears might fall, but Edmund placed a hand on her shoulder and she drew a breath.

"It is possible he is under magical control," Xan said, staring at the table. "Though I would need to examine him to be sure. Is there nothing else that might explain his behaviour?"

"No," Mistress Jhasso said. "The gods help me, at first I started to believe he had taken a mistress. He was so cold to me. I am not proud of it, but I had him followed. He goes to the office and he comes home, that's all. But I do not see how he could be charmed—Henerick always wears a ward against charms on his person, and he carries it still. I've seen it."

"A clever mage could find a way around wards," the elf replied. "And without speaking to your husband, to me it seems the most likely explanation."

He sighed wearily, as though he'd hoped to avoid his own conclusions. Mistress Jhasso nodded and said nothing.

"So now you've heard about the troubles we're in," Captain Merion said. "Would you care to hear more of our plan?"

"Yes, please tell us," Jaheira said, fingering her still-full goblet.

Mistress Jhasso roused herself with a shake and fed the dog a piece of the neglected ham.

"Henerick is growing worse. I can get nothing out of him, and it seems that even some of his dearest compatriots are falling victim to the same vile disease. I have been virtually shut out of the business I helped build, but I will be damned if I let Anchev take everything away from us so easily! As Telvin told you, I made a deal with a merchant organisation out of Cormyr in a vain attempt to bring in new allies. But they never arrived, and now I fear they have come under the blade of these blasted bandits. I have letters and official documents enough to help you masquerade as these merchants—not that you would need them now, our business is in chaos and likely no one will look at you twice. Go there and speak to whom you can. Try and talk with my husband if you are able—he rarely even returns home until the small hours now, and I hardly see him. Do whatever you can. Just please—help us. Everything is falling apart."

Her voice cracked and Anna flinched seeing the emotion behind the staid woman's face. She glanced at the others; they had that same cornered look that Xan had taken on earlier. Anna leaned back in her chair and waited on the inevitable.

...

"It seems we can do little but aid you, madam," Ajantis said. "Truly there has been a grave injustice here, and if my comrades agree we shall do whatever we can to set it right."

"Yes," Jaheira said slowly. "I think it will be for the best."

Finn took Anna's hand under the table and squeezed it. She grasped his in return but kept her eyes on the food, realising her hunger had past. Merion slowly rose up from the table.

"Right then. Shall we say tomorrow afternoon? It'll take us till then to organise our end."

"That would be fine, Captain," Jaheira said, her voice sounding distant.

"Good. I can't go myself, it might attract the wrong sort of attention. But I'll send Andris round to yours with some gear and more information. I hope you'll let him in this time and not skip round to the other side of town, eh?"

He tried to laugh but even the captain found little humour in the moment. Mistress Jhasso rose up from the table and the others did the same.

"Yes. Edmund will try to be at the offices tomorrow for you, hopefully to smooth your way with the guards. I wanted him to see your faces though just to avoid the possibility of even more intrigue. I...cannot thank you enough for this, good people. You will all be in my prayers."

She smoothed the little dog's hair and he regarded them with less affection than his mistress. After a few more words and required pleasantries the group found their way out of the door again, down towards the kitchen. Anna took Finn's hand again and followed him blindly, lost in her thoughts. She almost wasn't aware of a hand on her shoulder until Jaheira spoke her name. The mage turned to her in surprise and Jaheira spoke again.

"There is something I forgot to mention to the captain. You others may go back to the house, it won't take long. Anna, if you would stay with me?"

"We can wait," Finn said. "It's not a problem."

They all looked at Jaheira expectantly but the druid shook her head, trying to smile.

"No, don't trouble yourselves. We shall see you back at the house."

Finn looked to argue but sighed and shrugged. Anna said nothing, still puzzled, but she gave Finn a kiss and followed Jaheira back up the stairs while the others slowly made their way towards the door.

...

As she walked Anna had an increasingly uncomfortable feeling that Jaheira's request had nothing to do with their meeting, and after the druid paused on the stairs she found her suspicions confirmed.

"In truth, I have nothing to say to the captain or Mistress Jhasso," Jaheira began, craning her neck to see if they'd been followed. "It is you I wished to speak with."

"Oh?" Anna asked.

She folded her arms casually but her heart did a painful jump.

"Yes. There is little room for privacy at the house, and Finn tends to always be underfoot like a...never mind," she said, clearing her throat. "But there are things that need to be said."

"What is it, then?"

Anna stood stiffly, trying to quickly draw up the druid's reprobation and her own response. She could think of little though and Jaheira sighed and spoke.

"You understand I would not normally resort to such a discussion, but both Khalid and I agree there is little else to be done."

"Khalid knows?" Anna squeaked without thinking.

"Of course. It is obvious to everyone," Jaheira replied, giving the mage one of her looks.

"Oh, gods," Anna said. She felt her face turning bright pink and Jaheira's gaze continued unabated.

"You need not look so upset," she said. "I only wish to talk about Finn."

"What about him?" Anna stammered.

"You need to ask?" Jaheira said. "His temper has never been what one might call even, but lately it seems to grow worse and worse. We have done nothing but try and protect him in all the time we have been together, and as a reward he continually flies in our face. His sneaking out today was the final straw. We are at our wit's end with him."

"So you don't..."

"Don't what?"

"Nothing."

"The strain he has us all under is becoming unbearable," Jaheira continued. "If not for pursuit of duty I know for a fact that our group would be considerably smaller than it is today, simply because of him. And I—Silvanus, I swore to Gorion to help protect his child, but even I question my ability to fulfil that promise."

...

Jaheira ran a hand over her jaw, staring off into space. Anna's mouth opened and she looked at her.

"Surely it is not so bad as that?"

"You do not know. In fact, that is the very reason I wished to speak with you. He seems to...listen to you, Anna. Far more so than us. And you know well enough how dangerous our mission still is, even if he refuses to accept it. I need you to convince him of that—for his sake, for the sake of this mission, and for yours."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, people such as him have a habit of dragging others down with them," Jaheira said, looking Anna straight in the eye. "I believe Finn has a good heart, but he is too reckless, too angry. We need you to help us guide him onto a better path. You are the only one who has any chance of succeeding. And if you fail, I do not know what we shall do."

Anna stood still. Jaheira's words struck even harder than the ones she'd been expecting. Although she couldn't deny they had a ring of truth she strangely felt herself growing angry.

"Have you not spoken to Finn about this?" she asked.

"How could we?" Jaheira replied. "We have tried, but he listens to nothing we have to say."

"Perhaps if you actually spoke with him rather than chiding him like an overly-protective nurse you might have more luck."

"I hardly think—"

"No, you do," Anna interrupted. "I know Finn respects you, but he's not the sort you can browbeat and expect a good response. You need to talk to him honestly, not as though he were a misbehaving child."

"And if he ever acted differently, perhaps we would treat him as such," Jaheira snapped. "Do not try and place the blame on us."

"Did you ever give him a chance?" Anna shot back. "Ever since I've been with this group I've seen how you treat him. You try to tell him to be responsible, yet you act as though he can't tie his own bootlaces. How is he supposed to react? Your message isn't exactly clear."

"Survival? I think that is clear enough," Jaheira said angrily. "Would you put him in charge of this group? In honesty, would you? Those were our orders, but I have never been issued a command that I felt so little able to fulfil. He is not ready, and it is by his own choice."

Anna's mouth clapped shut. She knew Jaheira was right.

"Gods, I want to go home," she said, more to herself than the druid.

"At least you have one to go back to," she replied unexpectedly. "You are fortunate in more ways than one. Remember that."

Anna drew a breath, feeling her eyes growing hotter.

"Do you have any nara root?"

"What?" Jaheira asked, shaking her head at the oddity of the question.

"I don't have any," Anna replied.

"You two are a pair," she muttered. "Yes, I have some. Though you would be wiser not to let yourself run out of such important herbs."

"I haven't run out," Anna said, her eyes following the lines on the carpet. "I didn't have any."

"Well, what have you been using? Surely you cannot be so reckless as that. You as an alchemist ought to know better. But—I have heard that Chaunteans do not usually make use of herbs. Why—_oh_, Silvanus, please don't tell me that you think—"

"No!" Anna interrupted. "No. I don't know why I asked, just...never mind."

"Are you well?" Jaheira asked.

"I...don't know," she answered quietly. "Can we go back to the house now?"

"Yes," Jaheira said. She stared at the mage but Anna kept her eyes away. "Let's go."

...

They left the tavern in silence. Anna feared that the others might be waiting at the gate but the rainy alley was empty. The pair walked slowly, each woman left to her thoughts. Suddenly though Anna spoke.

"Why don't you and Khalid have any children?"

"What?" Jaheira said, clearly startled by the question.

"You mentioned something before about children, when we were washing. I just...would you tell me?"

Jaheira said nothing. She was silent so long that Anna gave up on a response and turned her strained eyes back to the rain.

"We had a son," she said, so quietly Anna hardly heard her speak.

"Where...where is he?"

Jaheira drew a breath. "I came with child not long after we were married. I had tried to take precautions, but... Khalid was overjoyed," she said, trailing off with a little laugh.

"And what about you?"

"I was happy, of course. But I hadn't thought of children so soon, and I was less willing to leave the Harpers than I would admit. We returned to the grove so I could bear the child."

Anna said nothing, waiting for Jaheira to continue. She drew another breath and when she spoke her voice was cracked.

"The birth was...a difficult one. The child was so weak, he could barely breathe...the druids spent all their blessings and I prayed and prayed, but...he died. Our son came into the world and he left it on the same day."

"Jaheira, I..." Anna began, her mouth feeling numb.

"It was difficult to bear, but I realised it was meant to be," she said quickly, wiping her face with a hand. "Perhaps he is running free even now, through the forests with Silvanus. Khalid thought that we could have another child, but...I knew then that I was not meant to be a mother. Khalid has accepted that, but I know he has never been happy with it. Sometimes I feel that I have wronged him, to willingly deny him that which is expected of a wife. I told him that he could leave, that I would bear him no ill will, but...he has ever stayed. He is a good man. The best of men. I...forget that at times."

She seemed to speak more to herself than the mage. Anna had no words for her. Jaheira wiped her eyes again.

"This blasted rain," she said. "The autumn is coming in, and it never ceases then."

On impulse Anna reached out and wrapped her arm around the woman's shoulders. She was surprised when Jaheira responded in turn, squeezing Anna close as though they were sisters or old friends. They walked on in silence, a bundle of cloaks and hoods wrapped against the rain.


	61. House of Troubles

Anna was relieved to find the kitchen empty and dark except for the dim glow of embers in the grate. She paused by the table but Jaheira kept walking.

"The root is in a bag on the top shelf of the pantry," she said over her shoulder. "Though I trust you'll make purchase of your own soon—I do not want to run low myself."

Without another word she disappeared into the sitting room. The druid's voice was still thick and cracked though she made every effort to sound as businesslike as usual. Anna sighed. She heard quiet voices in the other room but none sounded like Finn's, and she was strangely glad of it.

Carefully she stepped onto a chair and lit the oil lamp that hung from a beam in the ceiling, sending a thin light flickering into the kitchen. She stirred up the embers and set the heavy copper teakettle over the heat. The spindly, dry roots were sitting where Jaheira said they would be. Anna pulled one from the bag, tugging lightly to loosen it from the tangle. She washed it quickly, then taking up a sharp knife she methodically peeled the pale flesh away in shavings. Her nose crinkled at the sharp anise scent and hoped the brewed product would have a better flavour.

Though Anna didn't grow nara root herself she knew of its uses; it was familiar as willow bark for headaches or honey for coughs amongst the housewives of the land. Keeps the womb barren the old women would say, though a woman needed to drink it daily to be much use. Despite being fairly commonplace Anna was never entirely sure what she thought of it—denying the womb was like denying the earth its seed. In truth though, her beliefs might have been coloured by her own existence.

.........

Anna lived always under the knowledge of what her aunt and father had the propriety never to say; it was there clear as the illuminated months in the book of hours. She was born five days after Greengrass, when the earth was softening and the seedlings sprang into life—little more than seven months after her parents made their wedding vows.

To marry between the Harvestide and Greengrass was considered unlucky by the country folk; the Witch of Uktar would come uninvited to the wedding, and her gift would be the winds. But marry her parents did, quietly, in her grandfather's home. No feasts or endless parade of well-wishers, no merriment crowned with wreaths of flowers under the canopies of trees, nothing that normally marked a marriage in those parts. A marriage to avoid embarrassment, or to secure her mother her prize? Anna wondered, but that never knew.

Her abundant herb gardens made Anna something of an apothecary by default for the neighbouring farmers in Beregost; they traded their cheese, eggs and apples for her concoctions and so her pantry was never empty. But she never sold nara root, a fact that was greeted by shrugging acceptance in that area of Lathanderians and Chaunteans.

There were worse herbs, she knew. Others did as well. A wide-eyed and nervous maid knocked at her back door one night, asking for _something for the baby_. Anna sent her away in shock and disgust, but lying in her bed that night she could feel that young woman's fear. To what old backwoods matron the girl took her plight Anna never learned, but as no gossip reached her ears she assumed she'd found what she was looking for. She shuddered slightly in the memory as she sipped at her new tea, in full awareness of the irony of her situation.

.........

How long she sat there Anna didn't know but she looked up suddenly, surprised to see the spectre of Imoen standing beside her.

"Hey. What are you drinking?" she asked.

"Nothing," Anna said, setting down her cup.

"Looks like nara root," the girl replied matter-of-factly.

"You know what this is?" Anna said, surprised.

"Well, yeah. But I don't _use_ it or anything."

Imoen laughed but then turned pink, her mouth opening as though the significance of the root suddenly dawned on her. She sat down at the table and gingerly pushed the bag to one side with a finger like it contained live mice. Anna fought against the urge to melt onto the floor.

"How are you?" she asked instead.

"Okay, I guess," Imoen shrugged, still not looking Anna in the eye.

"Well, I'm...glad you're not too upset," the mage replied.

"You know, don't you?" Imoen asked. "That I know, I mean."

"Yes," Anna said, managing a small smile.

"I used to be pretty good at sneaking around the keep," Imoen continued with a puff. "But I guess ancient monks are easier to get past than old fox-ears the elf there."

Imoen gestured in a half-rude, half-impressed gesture to the sitting room. Anna laughed and a slight smile appeared on Imoen's face.

"Well, at least you know why Ajantis was so reluctant now. Though I do wish he'd told you earlier," Anna added to herself.

"It just isn't fair," Imoen said, shaking her head. "Why should he have to marry some woman he's barely even heard of? That's not right. I'd run away if they tried doing that to me."

"He can't run away from his entire life," Anna replied. "And it's just their traditions in Amn. I don't like it either. Just be thankful it isn't you."

"He could stand up to them, though. I would, you bet."

"I'm sure you would," Anna said, smiling into her cup.

"He's too good for that, though, isn't he?" Imoen asked quietly. "He won't ever go against his family. It's his duty, and he'll do it or die trying."

Anna raised her eyes, surprised by the girl's tone.

"I like that about him," Imoen continued. "I know he's all stuffy, but he's—_devoted._ No matter what, he's there. I could never do that. You know me, I'm always all over the place. Like a grasshopper Winthrop used to say. I wish I could believe in something like that. I wish...I wish someone would be that devoted to me."

She sighed and looked down at the table. Her eyes drifted over to the sack and she poked at it again, scraping her fingernail lightly along the fabric before pulling her hand away.

"Someone will be," Anna said. "It just...wasn't this one."

Imoen sat silently, biting her lip and staring off into space. At last though she pulled herself up with a smile.

"Well, like they say—nothing ventured, nothing gained!"

"What do you mean?" Anna asked.

"I'm going to talk to him. I'm going to tell him that it doesn't need to be this way."

"Oh, Imoen—" Anna began.

"Nope, I'm going to! He's upstairs now. Wish me luck!"

She rose up from the table but Anna reached out and caught her skirts.

"Imoen, _don't."_

"Why not? What have I got to lose?" she demanded.

"It's not so simple as that. You'll regret it, I know. Just leave it be."

"You think he's just going to laugh at me, don't you?" she said seriously. "Don't worry, I'm used to making a fool out of myself. If he laughs then I'll live with it. But when I have something to say you can bet I'm going to say it. Ignoring all this isn't going to make it better, is it? I need to talk with him, and I'm going to."

Anna sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"Okay. You do what you need to, then. But if you want to talk afterwards, I'll listen."

"Thanks," Imoen said.

She smiled nervously and straightened her dress, and walked out of the room with her head held high. Anna made a little noise and massaged her belly; either the tea or conversation wasn't sitting well and her stomach felt somewhat ill.

..........

She cleared away her mess and wandered into the sitting room. It was empty except for the elves; they sat together near the fire talking quietly in their tongue. They paused when she entered but they said nothing to her and she said nothing to them. Anna lacked the mental energy to translate the conversation and their words flowed by like water. One word alone seemed to catch in her ears—_edainme, _woman.

Kivan lowered his head in greeting but Xan just looked at her in that way which made her wonder if he truly saw her at all. She had little motivation to care though and mounted the creaking steps to her room.

Once again she found her candle already lit. Finn was waiting for her, though this time he braved the tipsy chair rather than sprawl out on her bed.

"I'd have thought you'd get tired of sitting around in here," Anna said quietly, shutting the door behind her.

"Believe it or not, I have infinite patience," Finn declared. "Though I actually just came down from my room a few minutes ago."

Anna smiled at him. He rose up and took her face in his hands, softly touching her cheeks while he kissed her deep. Anna wrapped her arms around his waist. Finn squeezed her tight and she rested her head against his chest.

"Tired?" he asked, caressing her hair.

_"Mm," _Anna replied.

"Me and all. It's been a busy day."

Anna laughed slightly and Finn ruffled her hair.

"So, what did Jaheira have to say to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, glad she didn't need to look him in the eye.

"Well, I can't think of any other reason she'd be so keen for you to stay behind. Did she have something to say?"

"She did," Anna sighed. "Though I don't really want to talk about it right now."

_"Ah. _So it was about me, then," Finn said.

She looked up at him and saw his lip curling.

"Would you blame her if it was?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Though I don't think much of people who can't say something to my face."

"Maybe she thinks you wouldn't listen."

"Yeah. I forget that I'm the rotten apple at times," Finn said dryly.

"She hardly said that," Anna replied.

"She doesn't need to."

He let out a groan and sat back down in the chair, his muttering turning to a curse as it rocked like a mad horse.

"Damn this thing," he said. He flipped the chair upside down and sat on the bed to examine it. "I'm used to it though. Back home it was the same way—watch out for Finn, he'll cause trouble. Alright, fair enough I wasn't an angel, but I didn't stir things up on purpose. And if people say things often enough you start to believe them, you know?"

"Who said you'd cause trouble?"

"Everyone. Started with the monks and filtered out to the whole keep. Mind you, the maids seemed to appreciate my reputation. Nothing like a bad lad to get the ladies excited."

He gave Anna a naughty look and she made a face at him.

"You do have a temper, Finn," she said more seriously.

"I know."

.........

He pursed his lips, looking at the chair.

"I can level this out, though I think Khalid's got the saw in his pack and I'm not his favourite person just now. Looks like this whole bloody leg's coming loose, too—I'll need to find some nails. Best to leave it till tomorrow."

"I didn't know carpentry was a talent of yours," Anna sighed, sitting next to him on the bed.

"Wouldn't call it a talent, but I can fix a chair all right. I did a bit of everything back home. Woodworking, gardening, shovelling shite in the stables—sorry," he said at Anna's look. "Gorion reckoned a man's hands were as important as his mind. Kind of funny though, the one thing I wanted to do most of all was the one thing he was adamant I wasn't going to do."

"Become a guard?"

"Yeah. I don't know why he was so dead set against it, it seemed practical to me. I could train at the keep and get a few years experience before heading off to become a soldier. I remember when I first told him. He almost seemed—horrified."

Finn's brow knotted and he played idly with the loose leg.

"That's a strong word," Anna replied.

"Aye, but it's true. I'll never forget it. I was fourteen or abouts, thinking I was well on my way to being a proper man. Gorion looked right at me and asked, 'do you want to kill?'"

"Strange," she said quietly. "Though I suppose it's a fair question."

"It took me back a pace, I admit," Finn said. "It sounds stupid, but I never really thought of it that way. Of course a fighter would kill, that's what they do, right? He almost put me off it. But I knew that was what I wanted to do."

"Why though? I know you said it had good opportunities but there are plenty others that don't involve blood being spilled. A man could make a fair living working as a carpenter, or a gardener even. I know that myself."

She gave him a little smile and Finn smiled back.

"I'm not sure," he said. "I just loved the way a sword felt in my hand. I'd grab a spare sword from the armoury when no one was about. I could barely lift the damn thing but I loved everything about it. It's shape, the way the light shone on the metal. Sounds a bit wet, but it seemed—beautiful, in a way."

He grinned at her and Anna smiled in turn.

"But now you're a fighter for real. Do you still feel the same?"

"It's a lot harder than I ever thought," he admitted. "Though every day I'm thankful that I stuck with it. If I'd have been a carpenter I wouldn't be here right now."

He set the chair back down. His hair was loose and it spilled over his shoulders but Anna could see his face. It had that lost look, like something was drifting inside him, like a ship that had slipped its moorings. She took his hand and he grasped hers tight.

"It's over now though, or as good as," Anna said softly. "Could you try to...be calmer? You don't need to fight everyone around you. It doesn't help any of us, and to be honest...it upsets me."

"And what if they're fighting me? I'm sick of being put upon like I don't know my own mind," he said, looking her in the eye.

"Then, let it go."

She squeezed his hand and Finn stared off into a corner of her room. He didn't respond in words but leaned in to kiss her. Anna felt the drive in his light touch and she drew back from him, feeling strangely bare though she was fully clothed.

"I suppose we should get some kip. Another fun day ahead of us tomorrow," Finn said.

"Yes," she replied.

"Though I could stay for awhile, if you want."

He leaned into her again and nuzzled at her neck. The touch was soft and Anna finally noticed that he'd shaved. That keen awareness of his body flowed over her and she gently pushed him back.

"No," she said through an oddly dry mouth. "Not tonight."

"Alright." Finn looked like he might say something more, but he kissed her fingers instead. "Maybe tomorrow, then."

..........

He kissed her again and departed. Anna sat on her bed for some time after he left, still in the silence. She knew something had changed but sitting alone in her room she lost the ability to recognise it. She had that sense again that she was inhabiting a stranger's body; surely, this could not be her.

But who was she anymore? Her home, her past life, they seemed so distant now like a snippet read from an old journal. Not her, not her own memories. Where was that woman? The one who lived with certainty, who knew the order of the days, who knew the people around her and their reactions before they did. Everything had order then, it was predictable, known. This could not be her. This wasn't the life she knew. But there was no one else she could be; this was her, here, after all.

Reaching out with a toe she sent the chair rocking back and forth, wondering idly what time it was. She was tired, that was all she knew. Slowly she undressed, blew out the candle and crawled into bed.

.........

The next day was strangely empty. The rain had ceased, leaving a high ceiling of grey covering the city and cloaking the buildings in a muted daylight. The house's occupants were all fidgety and restless though not even Finn mentioned the prospect of venturing out. He and Anna played endless games of chess in the sitting room, but her mind was elsewhere and she lost more often than not. She drank another cup of tea but no one seemed to notice the simple act.

Imoen and Ajantis were both quiet, with no hint of hearts being laid bare to be seen between them. They sat separately in the room, each attending to their own business. Anna wondered but Imoen said nothing and she didn't feel a desire to press the point.

At last Anna jumped hearing a brief knock at the kitchen door. After a moment Khalid ushered Lieutenant Andris into the room and they all looked at the young man expectantly.

"Good afternoon," he said, looking as if he couldn't decide whether or not to bow to the group. "I've brought you some papers and things from Mistress Jhasso. We should probably head out as soon as you're ready, the wagons are waiting."

"Wagons?" Imoen asked.

"Yes," Andris said, brightening. "The captain's got a whole setup worked out for you. Pretty clever, I have to say. He doesn't want to leave any holes for doubt with anybody as to who you really are."

He handed Jaheira a leather case and a sealed letter. She broke open the wax and read the contents.

_"Hrm," _Jaheira said. "Mistress Jhasso has provided us with some background on the missing merchants and her copies of the contract agreements. She's also managed to create a facsimile of their official seal. It appears we are now part of Larauntian House, merchants of fine tableware and proud members of the Worshipful Guild of Pewtersmiths in Suzail."

"Pewter mongers? Works for me," Finn laughed. "What's our names to be, then?"

"I want to be something fancy. Elliadne? Ellabelle?" Imoen said.

_"Ellabelle?" _Finn repeated. "You're not going to be my sister with that one!"

"Why not? It's pretty!" she declared.

"Do not rush in," Jaheira said, holding out a hand. "Only two names listed here are women's, and I do not think—"

"Let me guess—you don't think I'd pass for either of them," Imoen said. "Figures."

"I am sorry," the druid said. "Though we have more difficulties than that. None of these names would pass for elven, for one."

"And wouldn't it s-seem strange that we are so many of elven blood?" Khalid spoke. "They are n-not so common in Cormyr as men."

"I would gladly volunteer to remain behind, though my skills will almost certainly be needed," Xan sighed.

"Yes," Jaheira said thoughtfully. "Perhaps you could claim to be an associate who joined the party at the last moment? No one is likely to question that."

"If we are fortunate," Xan sighed again. "As you wish, then. Call me Master Greenleaf if you must, and pray no one asks me any questions about pewter."

"Greenleaf? Is that your real name?" Imoen asked. "You've never said."

"Of course it is not," Xan replied. "But elves are always called Greenleaf in these lands, are they not? No one will blink an eye."

"Then shall I be a Greenleaf as well?" Kivan asked. "We might be best served to pass ourselves as kin."

"But you don't look anything alike," Imoen commented.

"Again, who will notice?" Xan said. "I should be honoured, _toror'amin._ The Greenleaf brothers shall travel together."

Kivan bowed his head but his mouth curled slightly into a smile.

..........

"And what about the rest of us?" Imoen said.

"What about guards? Are they on the list?" Finn asked.

"There are only merchants as far as I can tell," Jaheira replied.

"Well, there you go then. You and Anna can pose as the lady merchants. Ajantis and me can pick some names as well, and everyone else can play guard. Problem solved."

"But who's going to believe that I'm a guard?" Imoen piped up. "I know, I can be a cook or something! Or your maid. People need servants, right? I could sneak into their kitchens and talk with the other servants—they know everything that's going on in a place. You'd find out more by talking to them than anyone."

She clapped her hands together, looking pleased with herself for thinking of it.

"I don't know—" Jaheira began.

"Actually, the Seven Suns has a big kitchen—they used to hold dinner parties there quite a bit before all this started. It's a pretty good idea, I think," Lieutenant Andris said.

The druid raised an eyebrow and he snapped back to attention, but Imoen gave him a gratified smile.

"Be that as it may, pushing people for information is not so easy as you might think. One wrong word said and you could destroy our ruse and put all of us in danger," Jaheira said.

"Oh, come on," the girl said. "I'm not so thick as that. I'll be careful. Besides, I know all about Cormyr if anyone asks—I read about it at the keep. And I won't have any trouble passing myself off as a maid, that's for sure. Let me do something for once, will you?"

Jaheira opened her mouth to reply but Khalid spoke gently.

"I c-could stay with her and pretend to be a manservant, too. It is a g-good idea, and y-you must think so yourself, my love."

"Very well," Jaheira sighed, and Imoen did a small dance on the carpet. "If we split up we stand a better chance of finding what we seek. But no risks, do you understand?"

"Loud and clear, Cap'n!" Imoen chirped.

Jaheira rolled her eyes. "You are not off to the best start, dear Imoen. Now, shall we be on with this business?"

..........

They decided it was best to claim the caravan was attacked along the way; it would explain both their lateness and the loss of many expected merchants. Anna repeated the name Kea Fentrish over and over but she still found herself coming up with infinite variations on a theme, and hoped she wouldn't need to introduce herself to anyone.

The Harper house had a few odd bits of clothing stashed within and Anna found an overdress that looked more like one a merchant would wear than her own stained woollen frock. It was rather tight-fitting but she played with the laces and managed to squeeze into it while retaining some degree of respectability. Finn at least seemed to approve of the change and she felt her cheeks growing warm at his glance.

Andris capably led them through a series of alleyways and side streets down towards the river, at last ducking into a courtyard that Anna slowly realised was familiar.

"Your drivers have stopped in at the Baldurian for a bit of supper," the lieutenant said with a grin. "A bit out of the way but their roast beef is famous. I think they're all set to move out now though, if you're ready."

Three covered wagons with sleepy-looking horses were waiting by the wall. Their hooded drivers held the reins lazily and looked as tired and bored as any long-distance caravaner. Anna wondered who they might be, but catching the glance of one she realised he was the mercenary who let them into the Flaming Fist compound. He gave her a quick wink before his face melted into a yawn.

Finn hopped into the back of the first wagon and offered Anna a hand.

"And _up! _Watch your step, my lady."

"I'm a commoner, Finn...I mean, _Haluren," _she said, correcting herself. "Jaheira's the noblewoman here."

_"Delene," _the druid replied, trying to hold her unfamiliar skirts out of the way as she mounted the wagon. "And am I? Mistress Jhasso's note said nothing of a title."

"No, but Summerstar is a noble name. The family has an old estate in the north. They're considered a bit rustic in manner, but they're still nobility," Anna said, swallowing a laugh at Jaheira's look.

"Well, I shall do my best to preserve my dignity, even if my house is of poor regard," she said. "Driver, if you would?"

..........

The wagon jerked as the driver whipped up the horses. Watching the city bobbing by through the gap in the canvas Anna felt her apprehension grow. She'd never been much use at lying; how could she convince anyone that she was really a pewterer from Suzail? She hadn't been to that city in years and she knew next to nothing about pewter, save it was made from tin and Maya took great pride in polishing it even though she rumbled like a thunderstorm the entire time. Anna shifted uncomfortably against the wooden corner of a crate dug that itself into her side and sighed.

"Nervous?" Finn asked.

"I can't help it," Anna said.

"Don't worry. The lady said nobody'll look at us twice in here. Though I admit I'm a bit nervous myself," he said, trying to smile.

"And I still do not care for this at all," Ajantis remarked. "It goes against everything I believe, to pretend to be ought but who I am."

Anna glanced at him. The knight had gone along with their arrangements reluctantly as though he'd been driven by a tide, and his face told her all she needed to know about his opinions on the matter.

"Sometimes the ends justify the means," Finn said.

"I have heard that said, but I do not believe it," the knight said. "How will tainting yourself in pursuit of a goal lead to victory?"

"Maybe," Finn replied. "Just keep it in perspective, eh? We're not here to kill children or anything. Just a little white lie to get our feet in the door. Your honour will survive."

"Survive this, aye. But what of tomorrow? One step follows another, and before a man knows what has happened he is on a road that will lead to ruin."

"Then just keep your eyes on the road," Finn said flatly.

Ajantis leaned back and sighed. He shut his eyes and said nothing else.

.........

"There's the Seven Suns now," the driver said.

Anna leaned forward as much as she dared in the cramped, rocking wagon. She saw a great stone building looming up from the street, its many glass windows shining like jewels in the light. Above the wide steps she caught sight of a painted sign of a wagon protected by an arc of suns. The driver swung around into a smaller street and stopped the horses before a large wooden gate.

A man sat in a small booth beside the entry, carving a stick of wood. He rose up almost in surprise when the wagons pulled in and came to speak with the driver.

"Larauntian House, out of Suzail," the driver said. "We should have been here a fortnight ago, but I'm afraid we had some losses."

"Bandits, eh?" the man asked, his eyes wide. "It's terrible out there. Mind you, it's not much better inside these days. You were smart, you'd turn straight back around and head home. I haven't had a wagon through here in days."

"What's the matter, my man?" Jaheira called, leaning out past the driver. "We have our seal here."

She held out the carnelian disk but the guard merely glanced at it.

"It's just not good, ma'am. Best not to say much else, me job's hanging by a string as it is. You go on in, though if you want to come back out again I can't say as I'd blame you."

Without another word he unlocked the gates. The driver glanced at Jaheira but clucked to the horses. They passed under the stone arch into a wide, empty courtyard. A few wagons stood abandoned and the sounds of the horses' hooves on the cobbles echoed against the walls.

"Where is everyone?" Finn asked quietly.

He helped Anna from the wagon and she stood close to him, looking around at the fine facades as though they were goblin caves.

"Let us find out," Ajantis said. _"Hallo! Hallo!"_

He called out into the courtyard, his booming voice mocking him as it bounced around before fading away. They all stood in silence, looking, waiting. At last a door opened and Anna relaxed seeing the figure of Edmund step out.

"Thank the gods, you're here," he said. His face was pale and he seemed oddly nervous. _"He's _here too. I just managed to get away. _Ah, _you'd better show me your papers, in case someone's watching."

"Who is here?" Jaheira asked, handing him their documentation.

"Rieltar Anchev. He's having a meeting with Father. A private meeting...Father told me to leave. Maybe we should give up on this?"

..........

The group looked at one another, startled by the revelation. Finn's mouth opened but his face turned dark.

"Might be an opportunity, after all. We've been wanting to meet this fellow for some time."

"Finn, no," Jaheira said quickly. "We do not know how much he might know about your bounty, and there is every chance he might recognise you. We will go in, but I think you should wait with the wagons."

"Then I _definitely_ want to talk to him," Finn replied.

"She's right," Anna said. "We don't want to cause a scene here. Besides, we might need someone out here, wouldn't we? To keep an eye on things."

"Yes," Jaheira said.

"So I'm just to sit out here while you go in, maybe even getting into a fight? I don't much care for that."

"I will stay as well," Ajantis said. "I would prefer it, to be honest, unless you feel you would need me."

"Please, Finn," Anna implored.

"Those Iron Throne bastards are strutting around like they own the place," Edmund said angrily. "I've told our servants to keep out of their way. You'd really have to work at it to stay out of sight, if you have reason to hide from them."

Finn scowled and Jaheira sighed.

"If we cannot get to speak with Jhasso this may be a short visit, regardless. Khalid, take Imoen and Kivan down to the servants' quarters. See if anyone has anything relevant to say, and for Silvanus' sake try not to call too much attention to yourselves. Xan, Anna, we shall hope that Rieltar's meeting does not last all night. The rest of you, be on alert. We may need to make a swift exit from here."

Finn looked tense as a drawn bowstring but he said nothing more. He glanced over at the now-locked gates, and up at the three stories of stone surrounding them. Anna leaned in to kiss him goodbye, but hesitated wondering if her adopted merchant would do the same. Finn gave her a strange look but she followed along after the others into the cold stone building.

..........

Edmund pointed out the way to the kitchens and Khalid, Kivan and Imoen disappeared down a staircase. Imoen looked less keen about her mission than before but she followed along behind the men with a resolute expression.

Their feet echoed down corridors that opened out into a wide central hall. Mistress Jhasso had spoken true about the Seven Sun's wealth; fine frescoes of caravans bravely mounting wild landscapes and ships proudly breaking over the waves decorated the walls, and patterns of coloured marble lined the floor. Carved statues guarded the corners but few other souls could be seen, leaving the beautiful building feeling haunted and empty.

"It would normally be heaving in here," Edmund said quietly, as though he read Anna's thoughts. "Merchants from every corner of Faerun pass through our door. Nowadays though they're usually just stopping in to tell us they've moved their business elsewhere."

Jaheira made a comment that Anna didn't hear—her eyes were focused instead on a man walking up one of the curving staircases. She was sure she recognised him, but from where? He was well-dressed, a merchant likely, and she racked her brain mentally running through a list of the traders she'd had dealings with in Baldur's Gate. The answer struck like a bolt from the blue. He was the hunter from the forest, the man who'd rescued her from her absurd plight with the hounds.

Her face went red and she prayed the man didn't turn around as Edmund hustled them past the staircase. But her bad luck never faltered; attracted to the sounds of footfalls the man turned his head, just long enough to see Anna. Their eyes met for only a moment but she saw that same dim flash of recognition, and his inevitable surprise. She turned her head away and gratefully followed Edmund into another hall.

..........

"Jaheira—" Anna whispered. "That man—he knows me."

"What man?" she asked, startled.

"The man on the stairs. He recognised me, I'm sure. I've seen him before."

"Does he know your name?"

"No. We just met for a moment," Anna replied, trying to make her heart stop leaping.

"Then let us not worry about it for now."

She tried to speak calmly but Anna saw concern growing in her eyes. Edmund fished out a set of keys and let them into a small parlour.

"We keep this locked now," he said, bolting the door behind them. "Hopefully it'll give us some privacy."

He collapsed into a chair and wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

"There's brandy and port. Help yourself if you like," he said, gesturing to a cabinet. "The gods know I could use a drink."

"Thank you, but it's best if we keep clear heads," Jaheira said. "Do you think your father's meeting will go on much longer?"

"I don't know," Edmund groaned. "I wasn't expecting Anchev at all. He wasn't in the appointment book, not that we bother with that much now. But they've been talking for hours. I can't think of what—in Father's state he's likely to sign away the whole business. I considered sending for Mother, but she's nearly at breaking point herself. I hoped I could handle it but Father threw me out. Can you do anything?"

"Other than force a confrontation with the leader of the Iron Throne? I would prefer not," Xan said. "Is it possible to lure your father out of the meeting?"

"Short of setting the place on fire I don't see how," Edmund remarked. "He never left a meeting even before he went mad. I could try telling him that some important clients have just arrived, but I don't know if he'll even care."

"You might try, at least. As my companion says forcing a confrontation would not be wise, but we have little else to lose. Give him this," Jaheira said.

She handed Edmund the seal and his pale face brightened somewhat.

"This is Celia's work. She copied it from a wax impression and carved it herself—she's something of an artist and enjoyed the challenge of a little forgery. But I—"

He physically jumped at a sharp rap on the door. Anna waited, tense, as Edmund hesitated unbolting the lock.

"Who is it?" he called instead.

Anna couldn't hear the muffled reply but Edmund drew open the door. A thin, worried-looking manservant stood in the hall.

"He's leaving, Master Edmund. I thought you'd want to know."

"Thank Helm," the young man muttered. "Come with me, I'll...show you to Father's office."

..........

He guided them out of the room, taking care to bolt the door behind him. They walked slowly hearing the sound of voices echoing in the central hall. They sounded unpleasant to Anna's ears though the tension might have coloured her judgement.

"Damn, I shouldn't—" Edmund began. "They'll see us, we should go back—"

"Who's that hiding in the shadows there?" a voice demanded. "Is it Jhasso's little whelp?"

A shock seemed to go through Edmund's body but he steeled himself and stepped forward. A group of men in heavy, well-polished armour stood in the hall. They were all tall and sturdy but Anna could hardly stomach their faces; they were cruel as any bandit she'd happened across in their travels. The guards parted like leaves and let another man step through.

He was grizzle-haired and slovenly despite his fine clothes; his jacket was unbuttoned and his cap was skewed, and Anna saw traces of food stains on his shirt. At first glance he seemed shorter than the rest, but she realised he leaned heavily on a strange white cane. His brown fur-trimmed cloak flowed around his shoulders and gave him a hunched appearance, like a bear. His size could easily match one though and he stepped forward, limping on his staff.

"It is you. Where've you been, boy? Nurse changed your nappies yet?"

He let out a laugh and his face twisted, his humour giving him an even more grotesque appearance. The other men joined him in his laughter and Edmund drew himself up straight.

"Yes, sir. She has, Master Anchev, and fed me too."

The man let out a deep chuckle.

"Oh, aye? Send her round to mine later. See, it's not so hard to have a bit of a laugh, is it, boy?"

"No, sir."

"But who're your friends here, eh?" Anchev asked. "I don't suppose you're lucky enough to have either of these ladies for your nurse, are you?"

He stepped towards them. Each click of the cane came with a heavy, sighing grunt, and he obviously walked with pain. Anna tensed and prayed he wouldn't come any closer.

"Just some friends of my sister's who're visiting," Edmund said quickly. "They wanted a little tour of the place."

_"Hm,"_ Anchev said.

His eyes ran over the three strangers. Jaheira twitched, just barely, and Xan's face stayed frozen like ice. Anna had to look down though when the man met her gaze.

"It's a fine building here," Anchev said. "Nearly a hundred years old. Used to be a warehouse, if you can believe that. Just shows what determination can do. Keep an eye on the sign over the door though, it might just be changing soon. Give my regards to your womenfolk, Eddie, and tell them I'll be seeing them again before long."

Edmund tensed again but managed a bow. Anchev made another deep noise and turned, the cane thankfully tapping away. His guards followed him and the four stood still, hardly daring to breathe until they'd made their way out the front doors.

..........

"I'm going to kill him," Edmund said through clenched teeth.

His eyes were moist and his voice shook. Jaheira laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not despair. We have not come so far to be defeated now. Show us to your father."

Edmund nodded and wiped his eyes. He hurried up the staircase, leading them down another elaborate corridor. He paused at a carved wooden door and knocked.

"Father? It's Edmund," he called.

There was no response. He knocked again, but the room stayed silent. Edmund pushed at the door and the bolt caught on the lock.

"Gone?" Xan asked.

Edmund shook his head. "No. He's in there. He's done this before."

He pulled out the ring of keys and set one into the lock. He opened the door slowly, beckoning the others to follow him.

..........

They stepped into a large office. A bright fire burned in the marble fireplace, making the room uncomfortably warm. Bookcases, paintings and certificates lined the walls like trophies but the office seemed empty. A large desk stood near the window, framed in silhouette from the grey daylight outside. Edmund walked up to it and put a hand on the chair.

"Father? _Father! _These people want to talk to you."

He swivelled the chair around. Anna's stomach felt ill as she looked into the face of the man who sat there. He was thin and grey. Everything about him seemed grey; his long hair hung grey, and his beard, and his face had an ashen look seldom seen in the living. His fine robes seemed too large for him, like he'd shrunken somehow while wearing them. He stared at them through empty eyes.

"Who? Who are they?" Jhasso blurted out, seeming startled by the sound of his own voice.

"They are friends, Father. They've come to help," Edmund replied.

"Help? There are rats in the cellar. Get the rats," the man muttered.

Edmund looked at them in pain. Xan stepped up to the man behind the desk, cautiously taking his face in his hands. Jhasso just stared at him.

"What is your name?" the elf asked in a level voice.

"My name? My name..."

"He's bad today," Edmund remarked. "Sometimes he almost seems normal. Yesterday..."

_"Shh," _Xan said, not breaking his gaze from the man. "Your wife. Do you know the name of your wife?"

They stared at each other, the elf's gaze keen, the man's vague and soft. Jhasso's mouth opened like a child shaping words for the first time.

"La...Lavinia," he managed.

"Good," Xan said. He lightly pulled Jhasso's eyelids down but the man suddenly twitched.

_"Lavinia. _They hurt...Lavinia."

"No one has hurt your wife," Xan said soothingly. "She is safe. Now, can you tell me your daughter's name? Your daughter."

_"No," _Jhasso said, sounding almost in pain. _"Lavinia!"_

"What are you doing to him?" Edmund asked.

"I must get him to remember," Xan said. "He is locked within his own mind, his will a prisoner. To break the enchantment suddenly would be too much of a shock to him. He needs to remember."

Edmund stood back on his heels but Anna could see doubt in his face. She glanced at Jaheira but the druid was focused on Xan. The office was silent save for Xan's quiet questions and the faint snap of the fire. Another noise began pricking Anna's ears though; a clanging, growing louder. She looked over her shoulder but had no time to cry out before the door to the office burst open, sending several guards into the room.

..........

_"Halt!_ Unhand Master Jhasso!" a guard shouted, pointing a halberd straight at Xan.

"What's this?" Edmund exclaimed.

"We were told that Master Jhasso was under threat," the guard said. "Step away from him, now!"

Xan released the man and moved back. Anna stayed rooted to the spot, too startled to move.

"We are no threat to your master," Jaheira said calmly. "We have cause to be here."

"That's not what we heard," the guard replied. "Now come with us, quietly, or we will be forced to use violence."

"Derek, these people are with me," Edmund said. "Who told you they were a threat? Lower your weapons, now!"

"I'm sorry, Master Edmund, but we can't do that," the guard said. "Not till your father gives us the word. Master Jhasso? Are you all right, sir? _Stone branches!"_

Anna expected no reply from the dazed old man but he suddenly snapped into life.

_"What...who_...why are you people in my office?" Jhasso demanded, looking at them. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Father, what...?" Edmund said, looking like he might be losing his own mind. "You don't remember? They've been talking to you..."

"Remember what? All I remember is I have a stack of paperwork up to the ceiling to deal with. I can't be troubled with these things, Edmund. I don't know these people. Where have they come from? Derek, get them out of my office."

He gestured with a wave of his hand, and even the guard looked confused.

"Shall we...call the Flaming Fist, sir?"

"What? Why?" Jhasso demanded again.

"For the intruders, sir," the guard said.

"What intruders? _Oh_, them. No. No more interruptions! Take them out of my office. I want some peace and quiet!"

He bellowed and began rifling through some papers on his desk. Edmund stared at his father but slowly spoke.

"Who told you to come in here?" he asked the guard.

"It was the major domo, sir," Derek replied. "We thought..."

"Never mind," Edmund said. "You may go back to your posts. I think...I think we're all done for today. I want to talk to Father. See if he's..._signed _anything."

He gave the group a stricken glance. They looked at each other, but Jaheira made a resigned sigh.

"Very well. Keep us informed, and hopefully we can...speak again soon."

..........

Edmund looked up from the desk and nodded. The old man seemed hard at work, unaware that anyone else was in the room. The guards showed them out of the office and Xan spoke earnestly.

"Stone branches...you said 'stone branches'. What does that mean? Is it a codeword?"

"No, sir," Derek replied. "Not that I know of. It must mean something though, for the major domo told us specifically to say that to Master Jhasso. It is a bit odd, but that's life these days. You'd better be on your way now, unless someone else takes it into their heads that you're not meant to be here."

They left the group and the sound of their armour clattered back down the hall.

_"Stone branches...stone branches!" _Xan repeated angrily.

"I noticed that as well," Jaheira said.

"What?" Anna asked.

"A trigger. A suggestion planted into his mind which forces him to act a certain way—Corellon, a few minutes more and I might have been able to help that man. Though in truth, I fear he may be beyond my aid," the elf said.

"What do you mean?" Anna said.

Xan shook his head. "Someone has gone through a great deal of effort to control that man's mind. Layer upon layer of enchantments...I felt it the moment I laid eyes on him. He was obviously strong and a part of him still battles to free his will. Unfortunately fighting against such strong mental manipulation is damaging as any battle, and his mind is bearing the scars. Even if I were to break the enchantments I do not know if he would ever be truly sane again."

Xan continued muttering to himself as they walked, his face dark.

"The guards said the major domo gave the command. We should find him, and hope he has not discovered Khalid and the others in the kitchens," Jaheira said.

Anna's heart leaped. Her first impulse was right after all; that place was a goblin cave. She wished she could find a window to see if Finn were still safe, but she had no time. Jaheira's feet were set in only one direction and she hurried after the druid and the elf, down towards the kitchens.


	62. One Day Out

"We should take care," Xan said as they hurried down the stairs. "If this servant knew the trigger words to Jhasso's enchantments he may well be the mage who put them there. I know how to deal with such things. Let me be the one to speak with him."

"That may be wise, though we shall not be far behind," Jaheira replied. "Blast these machinations! No matter how many layers we peel away there is always more to be found."

Anna bit her lip. Layers indeed, she thought. A major domo was one of the most senior servants of any house, one who had likely been in trusted service for years. The idea that he might have in fact been a powerful mage, biding his time until the right moment to move against his masters was frightening—how far back could this conspiracy spread? It didn't seem likely, but then little she encountered made sense any more.

A servant stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the strangers who paid him no heed as they hurried around. Surprisingly though he called out to them.

_"Er, _excuse me, miss?" the man said to Jaheira. "I've got this for you."

"What—?" she said, pausing on the step.

"This here. I was told to pass it on."

He held out a small piece of parchment. It was folded like a letter, sealed in what looked like candle wax. Jaheira gave the man a blank look but took it from him.

"Who is this from?" she asked.

"Don't know, miss. One of the maids passed it on, said to wait here for a lady matching your description. I think she took the coin and left me with the work, the lazy old goose. We'll see about that! I'd better be on though, the dishes won't wash themselves."

The man shrugged and walked away, glad to be free of his duty. Jaheira stared after him but tore open the paper. Anna leaned in to see a brief note, written in a hurried but flowing hand.

_"We know you are not all you seem. We have the answers that you seek, but we cannot speak openly. Meet with us tomorrow night in the Helm and Cloak. Ask at the bar for Olin. No guards._

–_Your Friends."_

"And what new intrigue is this?" Jaheira muttered.

_"Olin_—Elvish for 'secret'. I cannot imagine that is a coincidence," Xan remarked.

Jaheira handed him the note and he turned it over in his hands, regarding it.

"Do you think it's a trap?" Anna asked.

"Corellon knows. Though we are already floundering in the spider's web, are we not? Setting a trap would be rather redundant," he said, holding the letter up to the light.

"Floundering, but hopefully not yet caught," Jaheira said with a sigh. "Come, we shall puzzle over this message later."

.............

They discovered Khalid, Kivan and Imoen safe in the kitchens, though apart from repeating the obvious fact that the Seven Suns was near to ruin none of the servants they questioned had much to reveal.

"What of the major domo?" Xan asked. "Is he here?"

"I don't think so," Imoen replied. "Everyone's a bit too relaxed to have the boss around. Someone did mention him, though, said he was the only one who was keeping his head. A servant dropped a whole case of wine not long back—smashed it all to bits right in front of him, but the major didn't blink an eye. If that was Winthrop he'd have me living in the cellar for a hundred years!"

"Perhaps we should retreat for today, regardless," Jaheira said. "Mistress Jhasso should be informed of these developments as soon as possible."

"I agree," Khalid replied. "If this m-man is a wizard as you believe, I would not w-want to start a fight with him here in the kitchen with all the s-servants about."

Finn and Ajantis likewise had little to report; they'd seen no guards and no one had even offered to help unload their merchandise. Anna thankfully took her place next to Finn as they departed the compound, wagons and all. There seemed little point in leaving them there and the last traces of Larauntian House disappeared back through the stone arch, into the street.

The party left their Flaming Fist drivers to take the merchandise back to wherever it came from and made their way to the Baldurian tavern. Lieutenant Andris lead them upstairs to a room where Captain Merion waited for their report.

.............

"This could be from anyone," Merion said, eyeing the mysterious note with a scowl. "I know the Jhasso's major domo though, and if ever a less magically-inclined man existed I've yet to meet him. He's fussy and stiff, more interested in chasing dust than cantrips."

"Whoever wrote the message was likely a man, it seems like a man's handwriting. And no delicate one either by the size of the thumbprint in the wax," Xan remarked. "Most would use a button or some object to seal, but pressing his finger into hot wax obviously was of little concern to him."

"Or he may have been in a hurry and willing to risk a little pain. I wouldn't read too much into it," the captain said. "Though from what you say, I can't see Renseo writing this."

"We do not know for certain if it was the Jhasso's servant, but the guards said it was he who reported us and I do not think they were telling a lie," Jaheira said.

"I don't know. I don't know." The captain slapped the letter onto the table with a loud sigh. "Are you planning on keeping this date here?"

"We may as well," Khalid replied. "Without p-proof of who is manipulating Jhasso it is the b-best we can do."

"I'm just worried you might find yourselves in trouble. I could have some of my men set up around the Helm and no one would ever know the difference. Be a lot less risky that way."

"We have no real reason to suspect an attack, Captain—after all, we walked unarmed out of the Seven Suns. And if this informant feels watched they may not appear. No, we must manage on our own," Jaheira sighed. "We shall report back to you in a couple of days."

"Alright then," Merion said slowly. "I'll let Lavinia know what's going on, see if maybe I can't convince her and the kids to spend a couple days in the country. I doubt she will, but it's worth a try. I know she'll appreciate what you've done though, and so do I."

"Thank you. With luck perhaps we may have more to relate soon," the druid said.

............

They filed back to the house silent and weary. Over distant city streets Anna could hear temple bells counting eleven times. At the house they made motions for a late meal but she felt too tired for food. Anna silently kissed Finn goodnight, but he followed her into the sitting room.

"I am just...going to bed," Anna said.

He wrapped his arms around her and she hoped he'd take her silent cue. Finn looked down at her and she turned her eyes away.

"And I just wanted to kiss you properly."

Anna drew a breath as his lips met hers. She felt the meaning in his deep kiss and began to waver but he slowly loosened his hold on her waist.

"Goodnight," she said quietly.

"Yeah. Goodnight."

It sounded more like a resigned response than a wish for a pleasant eve. They said nothing else and she made her way to her stuffy little room.

...........

Anna knelt again beside Xan, her knees feeling pain from the cold stone floor of the cave. His eyes were closed and she had no way of knowing if he was alive or dead. But he was dead—he must be. The elf was so cold she could feel it through his robes. She knew her potion could save him though so she held the bowl to his lips, trying to get him to drink.

He turned his head away from her, speaking something in Elvish she didn't understand. Over and over—what was he saying? Tree, branches, it made no sense. What tree? There were no trees in that cave. She shouted at him to speak in Common but he didn't hear.

In frustration she looked up into the solid mouth of black through which they fell. So black, how could they ever get through? It was impossible. They were trapped in the earth, swallowed forever by stone.

Anna turned back to Xan but her heart jumped—the elf was gone. Where did he go? Was he ever really there? No, she was alone. She realised then that she'd always been there. The outside world was a dream. _She _was a dream, forgotten and alone. There was no one, no one.

But she wanted to get out. She needed to—there was no air in that cave, she couldn't breathe. She screamed loud as she could but her voice made no sound as the air became water. They'd flooded the mines. They forgot about her. Her skirts wrapped tightly around her legs as she struggled to swim in the darkness but the force of it pulled her down into that crack, to fall forever.

............

Anna's eyes flashed open. Her heart hammered and she couldn't move. All around her was solid black. Slowly though she realised that she was in bed, with the covers constricted around her legs.

She sat up and a wave of cold washed over her, with her shift clinging to her sweat-damp body. She freed herself from the blankets then drew them closer again in a vain attempt to stop shivering.

Anna breathed deep, trying to remind herself that she'd been having a nightmare, but the solid blackness of her room refused to let her forget. The mines—in the day she could forget them, yet more than once she'd seen that horrible place in her dreams. Never with such vividness, though. She could almost still feel the stone scraping against her knees.

She lay back down but that coldness kept pressing into her. Her mouth was dry and her throat sore as though she truly had been screaming. Had she? Likely not; she heard no sounds of stirring in the silent house. Anna thought of her water pitcher but remembered with a groan that she'd forgotten to fill it.

She rose out of bed and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like a shawl. The hall was dark with the doors all closed but she padded downstairs softly as the creaking steps would allow.

The sight of a low fire surprised her. A chair was drawn near the flames and a figure stood at her approach.

"My lady? I have not disturbed you from your rest, have I?"

Ajantis seemed startled enough that he forgot to bow. He was dressed in only tunic and trousers, making the knight seem strangely bare. At her glance he quickly drew the laces of his collar tighter closed.

"No, you haven't," Anna said, suddenly aware of her own strange fashion. "I just...wanted some water."

"I have some watered wine here, if you wish," he replied, "It is quite weak."

Ajantis turned to the table at the chair's side and held out a clay pitcher before apparently realising she had nothing to drink from. He looked oddly embarrassed and hurried into the kitchen for a cup.

"I do not normally sit up at nights with a pitcher of wine, though I could not sleep and I never can bring myself to drink plain water," he said by way of apology. "A habit learned through many years spent on the road."

"That is wise, especially in the city," Anna said, taking the drink he offered.

Ajantis smiled a little and bowed his head, but even in the firelight Anna noticed his cheeks growing red as his eyes rested on her shift.

"Why can you not sleep?"she asked, adjusting the blanket so that it covered more of the linen.

"Foolishness," he sighed. "But it is nothing to concern yourself over."

"I often have difficulty resting myself now," Anna replied. "It was a nightmare that drove me from my chamber."

"I am sorry to hear that," he said.

"Would you mind if I sat awhile?" she asked quietly. "I do not feel like retiring just now."

"Of course," the knight said. "I should be glad of the company."

...........

He drew up a chair and Anna sat down, wrapping the blanket around her. The fire snapped and spoke to itself in the grate like a living thing and she found it strangely comforting.

"It is the spark of life, is it not?" Ajantis said, likewise admiring the flames. "I cannot bear a night without a fire, even in the height of summer."

"In Athkatla you must roast, then," she said. "I've heard the city can be dreadfully hot in summer."

"Aye," Ajantis smiled. "The sea spray drifts over the town, making it hard even to breathe some days. But the breeze from the water at night is a pleasure indeed."

"I sometimes wish I lived closer to the sea. I've always been quite land-locked, and the water seems like magic to me," she remarked.

He nodded. "It is in my blood. Many of my ancestors were sailors, and many in my family go to sea still. My grandfather's brother was a captain of great regard and waged many battles against pirates in the Nelanther Isles."

Anna laughed a little. "So your family are knights of the sea, as well."

"One might say so," Ajantis said, smiling.

Anna reached out to place her cup on the table but paused as she nearly set it on a letter.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, trying to wipe away the drops of condensation that spattered onto the parchment.

Ajantis seemed strangely startled though and snatched it up in his hands. He turned it over and Anna realised the seal was unbroken.

"From my mother," he said.

His strong fingers ran thoughtfully over the red wax of the seal.

"When did it arrive?" she asked quietly.

"I have had it for days," Ajantis said. "It was waiting for me at the Temple of Helm when we came to the city."

"And you haven't opened it?"

"No."

They both fell silent. Ajantis sat leaning forward, holding the letter between his knees as though the paper were heavy as iron. A strange look passed over his face though and he suddenly cracked open the wax, letting bits of it fall onto the carpet.

Anna watched him read, trying to gauge by his face what news the letter might contain. His expression stayed grim as he scanned the pages but at last he set it down with a sigh.

"My mother is well," he said. "She writes that my Uncle Keldorn has finally returned to the city after a long mission near Eshpurta. He is hale and thankful to be home, but his squire is causing him difficulties again. The guest list for my sister's wedding changes by the hour and the scribes are growing impatient."

"I see," Anna said.

Ajantis went quiet and she leaned back in her chair.

"Mother says that my uncle will travel to Murann once he is rested," he continued. "There he will..."

He folded the letter hard, nearly crumpling it in his fist.

"Is there nothing you can say in this?" Anna asked after another silent moment. "You are a man, after all."

Ajantis shook his head. "No. I broke off one engagement, and the family honour will not stand for another. If the dowry is accepted, the wedding will take place."

He rubbed his face and groaned. When he lowered his hands Anna thought his eyes looked moist.

"Why does it trouble you so?" she asked. "I can't imagine, but...if it is the tradition, you must have expected it. I do not think it would be as bad for a man as a woman, regardless."

Ajantis turned to her.

"I think you are wrong, my lady. And would you wish to remind me what my intended bride must feel?"

"I'm sorry," Anna said, feeling heat rise to her face. "I didn't think."

"No," he sighed. "It is I who should apologise. How should I know what this lady feels? I have never spoken with her."

"You are right, though," she said. "Will you at least meet before the wedding?"

"Likely not, as she lives so far away. I only met my last intended once, and then called off the engagement."

"Was she so bad as that?" Anna said, surprised, making the knight chuckle slightly.

"I did not mean it in that way. My family made a fine match. But I had just received my knighthood then and did not think it right to wed whilst I spent so much time in the field with the Order. The lady's family understood at first, but after several years they became quietly insistent that the marriage take place. I...my uncle said that many knights were married, and that a good wife would understand the sacrifices required by the Order. But I...did not want that to be."

"What did happen, then?" she asked.

Ajantis cleared his throat. "By chance I found myself near the lady's estate, and decided to call on her when my work was done. Her parents were surprised by the unannounced visit but they allowed us to speak privately. I remember she seemed almost...frightened of me. I wanted to reassure her that my reluctance was not a slight on her nor her family—but this lady revealed to me her own pain. She said she was in love with a young nobleman, but although his family had offered marriage the proposal had been turned down in favour of an alliance with the Ilvastarrs. I knew then I could not carry on with the engagement, and I dissolved it as soon as I could."

"That was a noble thing, even if it displeased your family," Anna remarked.

"Thank you, my lady. I felt so, but it was never easy. I took some comfort at least in hearing that this lady's family afterwards accepted her beloved's offer of marriage."

"That is good," she smiled. "But I wonder...did you never think to wed after that? Surely there must be some lady who would appreciate a fine knight such as yourself."

"You are kind, but no. I have lost so much in my life—my father, my brother...my dearest of friends," he said, letting out a shaking sigh. "I feel that so keenly, I cannot describe. Helm teaches us to put duty above all. To not attach ourselves too strongly to any in this life, for they are dust the same as we. That we have done our duty is the only true comfort. But is it? Where is joy? Where is...love? That most human of bonds, gone away."

"It is never gone," Anna replied, thinking the knight looked strange. "There can always be love."

"No. Sometimes, there cannot. But I have been a fool, have I not? That my good mother and uncle would go through such trouble to find a match, that I have such a good lady waiting for me...it is fortunate, is it not?"

The question didn't seem directed at her. Anna sighed.

"Has Imoen spoken to you?" she asked. The knight jerked his head.

"No, has she spoke to you?"

"No," she said. "Perhaps it isn't my place, but I know she cares for you. You should—"

"Then she is a fool," Ajantis said suddenly. "Believe what you like, but it is true."

Anna stared at him, but said nothing else. She rose up and left the knight to his thoughts.

............

She faced the morning more tired than she should have been, though she was surprised to find Finn awake and in the sitting room.

"Hey there," he said, looking up from his chair. "Up for a little trip?"

"Where to?" Anna asked.

"I thought we might check back in on that from the other day."

"What's that?" Imoen asked before Anna could respond.

"Nothing, flower. So, do you want to go?" Finn continued.

"I would, if we're allowed to leave the house today," she responded.

Finn made a face. "Half the city must know we're here by now, if that note's anything to go by. This business could go on forever, but we sure can't stay here that long. I'm willing to risk it."

"I need to venture out myself," Xan said from over the top of his spellbook. "My supply of components grows no fuller, and there is business of my own to attend."

"There you go then!" Finn said. "We'll gang up on our mam. She can't say no to us all."

"I hope you don't call Jaheira that or she's going to turn you into a nice quilt," Imoen remarked. "Let's give it a try though, I'll go mad if I have to sit around here for another day."

..........

'Mam' seemed less than thrilled with the arrangements though Anna could see her own resolve cracking.

"Khalid and I have things we must attend as well, not least to try and find our comrades once again," Jaheira said. "Though I do hope you will _try _to stay inconspicuous."

"What, no grand battles in the marketplace?" Finn quipped. "I'll do my best, but you know how our days go."

Jaheira's eyes narrowed. "I am serious, Finn."

"So am I," he replied. "But that's good enough for me. You ready, love?"

"Soon as I can get my cloak," Anna replied, feeling a tangible release approaching.

"What about me?" Imoen said.

"Isn't there anyone else you'd rather spend your day with?" Finn said knowingly.

Anna felt a slight guilt over last night's conversation but Imoen merely frowned.

"Nope," she said.

"Well, where are you off to, Xan?" Finn asked.

"To the sorcerer's arcade, for one," the elf began. "But why—_oh,_ no."

"What do you mean, 'oh no'?" Imoen demanded. "Great. If nobody wants to be my friend today I'll wander by myself."

She folded her arms and looked sour.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Xan didn't mean it like that," Finn said, giving the elf a look. "And I just want a little time with Anna. Why don't you go with him and we'll catch you up?"

Less-than-enthusiastic expressions spread around the room but they all seemed too glad for a day out to argue much. Anna dashed upstairs to fetch her cloak and purse, trying to run over a list of ingredients she needed to buy at Sorcerous Sundries. 'Everything' was the most concise answer though and she trotted back downstairs in a better mood than earlier.

.............

A still-sour looking elf and maiden departed for the marketplace but Anna and Finn stepped out in another direction. The grimy streets looked strangely bright to her even though the sun was no more present that morning than it was the day before. They walked hand in hand towards the old temple, invisible amongst the endless faces they passed by.

"Gods, it's good to be out of there," Finn said.

"It is wearying," Anna replied thoughtfully.

"I wish we were staying at an inn."

"I don't know. It could be cosy there if we weren't all so tense."

"It's a little too cosy is the problem," Finn said. "Not much breathing room. Or privacy."

"No," Anna replied, feeling her cheeks getting warmer.

"If this bull ever ends, maybe we could get a room somewhere?" he said, squeezer her a little tighter. "Someplace good and fancy. It'd be nice."

"Maybe," she said.

Finn looked down at her and laughed at her bright cheeks.

"Sorry, m'lady. I shall refrain from such talk in public from now on."

Anna grimaced and Finn chuckled again. She sighed and followed Finn through the winding cobbled alleys.

............

They found the Temple of Ilmater in no better condition than when they left, though its ramshackle appearance seemed more suited to it than any new dressings. A priestess approached them as they stood hesitating in the entry and directed them back to the chief cleric's office.

"Luval's door is always open," the woman said. "You may go wherever you please here, and if you require a bed for the night we can offer that too."

"Do we really look that rough?" Finn asked after they'd thanked her and moved on.

"I don't know, but I'm going to buy a new frock today if it's the last thing I do," Anna remarked.

They found the old priest peering over a tome and he looked up almost startled when they entered.

_"Ah! _My good young Finnigan. Quite a coincidence, I was just looking over some records now. Please, sit down."

He gestured to the plain chairs before the desk and they sat down carefully.

"I'm sorry, did you need more time?" Finn asked, trying to fight back that nervous schoolboy air.

"No, my lad," the priest sighed. "I wanted to be sure, you see, so I've been checking again. But I am afraid...there is nothing."

Finn's face fell.

"Nothing?"

"No. I am sorry. There is no record of anyone named Gorion taking a child from here, nor even with a similar name. No children named Finnigan, either. Are you certain it was from our temple?"

"Yes," Finn stammered. "At least, that's what Gorion told me..."

"Are there any other temples of Ilmater in the city who might have taken in foundlings?" Anna asked.

Luval shook his head. "The other temples are fairly small, and any children working there would still come through here. Could there perhaps have been someone else who took you in? Another name? I feel dreadful, and it is rather perplexing."

"No," Finn replied.

He went silent but his face grew red. Anna gave the priest an imploring look.

"You see, our records are quite good," Luval said.

He turned the book around so they could read. Anna's eyes ran down the ledger, the brief entries telling more stories than any novel.

_1350, Year of the Morningstar. Hammer:_

_Hennie; girl, aged eleven years. Taken to work in Vermien Household by Wilhelm, manservant of same.  
__Infant boy, motherless. Brought in by father, Davin, labourer. No name.  
__Poppy; girl, aged three years. Orphan. Brought in by aunt, Griselle, charwoman.  
__Infant boy. Brought in by mother. No name.  
__Jem; boy, aged near five years. Brought in by Adorned Clemis, found wandering the docks. No relations known.  
__Infant girl. Left in temple. Gone to Ilmater's grace. No name._

_.........._

"So many have no names," she said.

"No," Luval said. "We take them all, and do not judge where they came from. All we can do is try to provide comfort."

"And you didn't find any one of them who could be me?" Finn said.

"Nothing that fits. Even if you were a nameless child, your adoptive father's name would have been recorded. I am sorry."

Finn kept staring down at the floor.

"Why would he lie? Of all the stories to make up, why this? He told me over and over when I was young—you came from the Temple of Ilmater in Baldur's Gate. Did he think I'd never find out?" he asked, but they couldn't answer him.

"To tell such a persistent lie...there must be a purpose," Luval said. "If he loved you, I can only guess it was to shield you. From what though, I could not say."

Finn rubbed his hands hard over his eyes. Anna touched his shoulder and he looked up.

"Well. I don't suppose I should be surprised, really. It's just the way it works. I didn't have a father. Gorion might have plucked me from the sea for all it matters."

"Finn—" Anna began.

"Let's go," he said, rising to his feet. "Thanks for your help, Father, though I'm sorry Gorion just wasted your time too."

He walked blindly out of the office, leaving Anna staring after him.

"He does not bear suffering well," the priest said quietly.

"No," Anna said. "Though sometimes I don't blame him."

She bade the priest farewell and hurried after Finn. He paced around outside the temple, looking like a caged animal.

............

"Why? Why would he lie?" he demanded again. "I was supposed to be his _son. _His son, and he couldn't even—"

"You _were _his son," Anna said.

"The hells I was," Finn spat. "I see it now—just a serving boy, somebody to take care of him when he finally got too feeble to even hobble about on that old staff of his. He lied to me. He didn't care."

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it tight in his fist.

"Do you believe that?" she asked quietly.

Finn's face looked like it might split in two, but he groaned.

"No. And that only makes it worse."

Anna wrapped her arms around his waist. He pulled her tight against him, holding her so close she found it hard to breathe.

"Let's get out of here," he said. "Go anywhere. I don't care about this anymore. I don't want to think about it. We could leave, nobody'd ever find us. I just..."

He broke off and pulled her tighter still.

"You could never run far enough," she breathed. "It will always be there. You need to deal with it, otherwise it will never go away."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. But I'll help you."

She glanced up into his red eyes, trying to smile. Finn looked over her face.

"Do you love me, Anna?"

The question surprised her. She hesitated, but she didn't need to think about the answer.

"Yes."

She smiled up at him even though her eyes were beginning to smart. Finn's lip wavered and he leaned down to kiss her.

............

"What do you say we give the arcane market a miss?" he said as they walked back together.

"We can't do that," Anna replied, leaning in to him. "But I know somewhere we could go for awhile."

"Oh, aye?"

"Yes," she said, giving him a mock-scowl for his keen look. "Come on!"

Anna led him through the streets to the long staircase that climbed through the wall into the better part of town. They laughed, breathless, taking the steps two at a time like children. The clouds began to fade as well, throwing a thin sunlight onto the stone and glinting off the armour of the guards who regarded them with reserved amusement. Faint though it was Anna felt its warmth and it cheered her. Finn seemed to recover too and he flashed her a grin.

"So where is this place?" he asked as they passed under the great stone arch.

"Not far now," she said, smiling back.

Her smile faded though seeing a large crowd of people gathered outside the Palace of the Dukes. They milled around excitedly as though it were a festival day, but Anna didn't know of any in that season.

"What's that about?" Finn asked.

"I don't know. A parade, maybe?"

Curiosity drew them closer and Finn slipped into the throng. Anna grasped Finn's hand in hers and stepped lightly but nearly bumped into him as he stopped dead in the square, his eyes focused above the crowd.

...........

"What—?" she began. _"Oh, Chauntea."_

A cheer went up from the crowd as an official-looking man mounted a wooden platform. He unrolled a parchment scroll and began to read in a booming voice.

_"So be it publicly known—the mercenary company of the Flaming Fist, under license of the Grand Dukes of the great city of Baldur's Gate, have found these persons guilty of brigandry and foul murder, and by consent of the Grand Dukes their sentence shall be fulfilled on this day of Elesias, in the Year of the Banner—to hang by the neck until dead. May the gods have mercy on their souls."_

The man began to read out the names of the accused but Anna didn't hear as another cheer went up from the crowd. A half-dozen bound men were dragged onto the platform by masked guards and the crowd's cheers turned swiftly sour.

_"Rot in the abyss, you bastards!"_

_"How's the rope today? Nice and soft for ye?"_

Undaunted a few of the men hurled back insults of their own as the guards slipped nooses around their necks. A clod of mud came flying from the crowd in reply, striking one bandit squarely in the private region. A guard found himself splattered as well and great round of laughter rumbled up from the mob as he threatened his anonymous attacker.

"Gods, Finn, I don't want to see this," Anna said.

"Alright," he replied, though he still stared at the platform.

He tried to back away but they found themselves hemmed in by the excited mob of people. Anna pushed out with her elbows but the crowd only pressed further in.

"Hey, come on mate—the lady wants to leave," Finn said, but his protests went unheard.

Anna let out a cry finding herself lifted off her feet as the crowd suddenly surged forward. She pressed into some men, trying vainly to find her balance. Finn grabbed her and tried to steady them both.

"I want out—I don't want to see this," she repeated, her voice cracking.

"I know," he said, trying to make himself heard over the shouting. "It's alright. Don't look at it. Just hold on to me."

Anna wrapped her arms around him. All she could see were the jackets and smocks that pressed into them like a solid wall of bodies. They smelled of sweat and hot breath. A wave of heat washed over her and she struggled to breathe. Finn held her close and they swayed around, buoyed by the crowd. After what seemed like a lifetime the cries reached a crescendo and they rang in her ears, pounding in her brain like thunder.

............

"It's over," she heard Finn say. "It's over."

She opened her eyes. The pressure of the crowd began to loosen and Anna tried to draw a breath.

"Are you all right?" Finn asked.

He looked worried. Anna wiped sweat from her face; slowly she realised she must have blacked out.

"I...I think so," she said, though her body felt cold and tingly.

"Come on. Over here."

Finn lifted her off her feet and carried her like a child away from the crowd, into the shade of some small trees. Anna gladly clung to his neck but as he set her on the grass she felt embarrassment creeping over her.

"I'm all right," she said.

"You don't look it," he replied, running a hand over her sweat-damp hair. "Stay here. I'll get us some brandy in that pub."

Anna began to argue but he lit off across the square into a tavern. She leaned against the tree trunk and breathed deep, trying to collect herself. Her eyes were drawn to the platform. Six men hung from the gibbet there, limp as a side of meat in a butcher's shop. She felt her stomach turn and forced herself to look away.

Finn returned in short order with a skin filled with strong alcohol. Anna took a sip and sputtered and coughed.

"Well, at least you've got some life in you," he said, trying to joke.

"Did I faint?" she asked.

"I reckon so. Good thing I had a hold of you, or you'd have been trampled flat in that crush."

"Gods. You'd think I never saw men killed before," Anna muttered, and Finn gave her a look.

"It wasn't the prettiest thing I've seen, but not the worst either."

"Did you watch?"

"Yeah."

Anna leaned back against the tree.

"They've never had public executions here. I always heard that they executed criminals in the Flaming Fist compound, but never in front of the palace."

"Times change, I suppose. All this city's been through I can't say that I blame them."

Anna looked again at the platform. The crowd had mostly moved on, their morning's amusement at an end. Several guards struggled to cut down the men's bodies before dumping them into a waiting cart.

"They're bandits, Anna. We've fought enough of them to know what they're like. Think of those merchants they killed, what they did to them. They're only getting what they deserve."

"I suppose so," she replied.

The driver whipped up the mules and the cart carried its burden away. A guard appeared on the platform, lugging a fresh armful of rope.

"Do you think you can walk now?" Finn asked.

Anna nodded and he helped her to her feet.

"Maybe we ought to go back to the house," he said as she wobbled in his grasp.

"No, I'm fine. Let's...just go find the others, shall we?"

"Alright," he sighed.

He took her arm and they wandered slowly back down the stairs, towards the arcane market.

..........

Sorcerous Sundries stood on the southern side of the wall, in a neighbourhood not accustomed to such monumental architecture. Its round, cupola-topped form rose up above the humble shops and houses that surrounded it, earning it the nickname of 'the mage's teat' from the locals.

Anna heard tales that its unique form resulted from a dispute over the place of its construction; the mages who financed the building wanted to break ground in a more upmarket section of town, but concerns over potentially dangerous arcane goings-on forced the market into its current position. The slighted mages decided to seek revenge with the elaborately eye-catching form, although rumours of a somewhat less tasteful alternate design still floated around.

Once past the attentive guards though the market seemed much like any other, at least to Anna. What the common folk who wandered around the place with wide eyes thought of it she didn't know. The main floor was devoted mostly to arcane apothecaries and purveyors of simple charms and other such trinkets, and it bustled in the afternoon.

The cool, incense-tinged air helped bring back her spirits and Anna perked up as they wandered past the various stalls and hawkers. She didn't see Imoen or Xan anywhere though, and wondered aloud if they'd already left.

"You could spend a year in here," Finn remarked. "Maybe they stepped into somebody's portable hole on accident."

"Maybe," Anna grinned. "Though they might have gone upstairs."

"Let's have a look, then," he said.

"Alright, but they only allow mages up there. I'll have to go alone, unless you can remember some spell off the top of your head."

Finn made a face. "I might, though I don't want to risk a fire. You go on then, and hope I don't get eaten by a hag or something while you're away."

"If you do, tell her to save me the leftovers," Anna replied. "I'll be back soon!"

She gave Finn a kiss and headed up the long spiral staircase, where she was halted by a guard.

"Stand fast, madam. Only those skilled in the Arcane Art are permitted in this sanctum."

Anna wondered to herself how many enchanted missiles that line had earned him over the years, but she consented to a small magical display for his benefit. The guard drew open the door and allowed her to step past.

..........

A ribbon of stained glass circled the dome, sending a rich dappled light over the floor. The atmosphere was hushed though and the quiet talk of the patrons floated around in strange echoes. Despite catering to the more serious magical practitioner Anna never cared for the reserved part of the market; she always had a distinct feeling the frost-hardened wizards there looked down on a country mage.

She wandered past a table, regarding a display of small stone lizards with enough curiosity to attract the attention of the merchant.

"Are you interested in Turmish Rock Lizards today, madam?" the mage asked. "Most remarkable creatures—they turn completely petrified when startled. An endless variety of uses for the enterprising wizard."

"No, thank you," Anna said.

"Perhaps you might take an interest in these fine pelts, then," the woman continued, caressing strips of striped yellow fur. "The hide of a Liger—a very rare creature, bred for its skills in magic. Able to carry any number of enchantments."

"No thanks," Anna repeated, walking away before she could freeze under the woman's gaze.

..........

She managed to avoid drawing the attention of any other merchants but a familiar voice echoed out of a stall.

"You're not even looking!"

Another voice made a laconic reply, and Anna followed it to a small shop devoted to magical vestments.

_"How _does it look?" Imoen repeated. "I can't see very well from behind."

The girl swished side to side, modelling an elaborate mage robe for the elf who sat in a chair, looking as though he was physically trying to force his head into a book.

"Use the mirror," Xan sighed.

"That doesn't tell me anything. I need a man's opinion, and you're the only one here."

The elf let his book drop.

"You flatter me. Very well—it is too long. You would trip over that before you were halfway through a spell."

Imoen grimaced, caressing the flowing golden sleeves.

"You think? I like it though—it looks like a noblewoman's gown."

"You are not a noblewoman, and a robe is not a gown," Xan said, raising his book again. "But by all means, purchase it if you are so inclined, and let us be done with this place."

A retort formed on her mouth but she paused seeing Anna.

"Thank the gods, somebody who can give me a straight answer. What do you think of this?"

"It looks—expensive," Anna replied.

_"Er_, I never asked," Imoen said. "But I don't care if it is, I've earned it."

"By doing what, exactly?" Xan remarked. "You would barely qualify as an apprentice."

"Oh, be quiet," Imoen muttered. "Maybe you're right, though. There were some less fancy ones I tried—I'll go get them and you can tell me what you think."

...........

She disappeared into the back and Xan let out an audible groan.

"Corellon—she must have donned every robe in this shop at least twice already. She seems to think a robe is simply an article of fashion, and never even enquires about their enchantments."

"Imagine that," Anna said, a smile creeping over her face.

"Yes," he said, giving her an eye. "Well, you may humour her if you wish, but I have little interest in sitting through another parade. I'd nearly given up hope that you would return and I could carry on with my business."

Anna's face fell. "Well, we had some—difficulty."

"Has something happened?" the elf asked, looking her over sharply.

"Not really," she sighed. "We—just got caught up in an execution."

Xan stared and she continued.

"The Dukes are holding public executions now. We didn't know what was going on, we got trapped in the crowd, and I...fainted."

She felt foolish for adding that last information, but the elf's eyes narrowed.

"How is it you managed to find yourselves in such a situation?"

"We didn't know what was happening, like I said," Anna replied, bristling slightly. "Just what one might expect from an old maid."

She sat down in another chair with a grunt.

"You aren't still upset about that, are you?" Xan said. "I hardly meant to imply that you were wrong not to marry straight out of childhood, as so many of your kind seem to do."

"What _did_ you mean to imply, then?" she snapped.

He seemed surprised by the force of her reply.

"I don't know. It meant nothing. I am sorry if I offended you, though I cannot think why you would dwell on it."

Anna rubbed her eyes, feeling foolish again for snapping at him like a cranky child.

"I just don't know why you need to say such things at all. You are quite...rude at times."

"I do not mean to be," Xan replied. "But neither do I see any point in coating the truth with pleasantries."

Anna drew a deep breath and said nothing, staring at the bolts of coloured silk. Xan sighed.

"I have seen more executions than I care to remember," he said slowly. "At some I have even been an honoured guest, if there could be called such a thing. To sit there with an even face, watching cold justice being carried through...how is one meant to feel? I do not know."

"Perhaps they have earned their fate," she replied, still staring at the silk.

"I hope so." He rose out of his chair. "Bid Imoen farewell for me, would you? I have things I must attend."

Anna glanced up but Xan bowed and departed, the grey cloak chasing after him as he headed towards the stairs. She managed to convince Imoen to cut short her decision by pleading the case of Finn, who still waited for them. In the end she chose a simple purple robe of decent enchantment, and Anna smiled as the girl seemed more excited by the purchase than by an entire new wardrobe. She felt too tired for much shopping of her own though and after buying a few essential components they made their way out of the market, back through the winding streets to the house.

.............

"Do you think the Flaming Fist are here?" Anna said quietly.

She glanced at a figure who melted back into the shadows at their approach; each stranger became an object of her suspicion as they made the long walk from the house to the Helm and Cloak Inn.

"Perhaps," Jaheira replied. "But silence now, we are nearly there."

Several of their band slipped away into the night, but Anna paid little heed. Kivan, Ajantis and Khalid were to watch outside the inn for danger while the others kept the meeting. She brushed up against Imoen and the girl started a little, but smiled and smoothed down her new robe. Anna smiled back and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

Entering the tavern Anna wished she'd invested in a new robe of her own; the Helm was a nobleman's idea of a pub and the patrons there all looked as though they were taking a rest from a ball rather than drinking at their local. She drew her cloak closer and wished their contact had chosen a less particular meeting place.

Jaheira paid no mind though and enquired about Olin to the ancient barmaid. She sighed but rang a bell, causing a tow haired lad to appear like a genie.

"Take these good people up to number thirty-six, if you please," the maid intoned.

The boy nodded and led them up the fine polished stairs. He paused before a door and knocked before pulling out a ring of keys and letting them into the room.

"Here you are, ma'am," he said.

Jaheira slowly stepped in, and the others followed her. A bright fire was the only light and Anna started as many pairs of eyes reflected back at her, before realising the room was filled with lifeless hunting trophies.

"There is no one here?" the druid asked.

The boy shrugged. "Sorry, ma'am. Will there be anything else?"

"No. You may go."

The boy held out a hand and stayed rooted to the spot. Jaheira sighed and slipped a coin into his palm, causing him to disappear once more.

..........

"Alright, I give up," Finn said, looking around the empty room.

He reached out to touch the snarling face of a wolf but Imoen stopped him.

"Don't—anything in here could be trapped."

"It's possible," Xan said, running his eyes slowly around the features. "Something here is...unsettling."

He didn't elaborate. Although the plush sofas and chairs beckoned none of them sat down.

"Where are they?" Anna asked.

"I don't know. I cannot think they made this date simply to make fools of us," Jaheira remarked. "We shall simply have to wait."

"Not any longer," a voice said.

Anna nearly jumped out of her skin; the air rippled and a man appeared out of the thin shadows in a corner of the room. He held up a hand though as they instinctively reached for their weapons.

"Please—there is no cause for alarm. I wished to ensure that only those I invited attended this little gathering before I revealed myself. I'm sure you understand."

He stepped into the firelight, and Anna's heart jumped again as she looked into his face.

"You?" she began.

"Yes, my lady, I recognise you as well," he chuckled. "It is good to see you have recovered from the—incident."

"You know this fellow?" Finn asked, eyeing the man suspiciously.

"Don't concern yourself. Nothing untoward, I assure you. Please, relax, my friends. There are no enemies here."

The nobleman warmed his hands before the fire, though he was so tall he had to bend to reach the flames.

"So you say. But you likewise cannot blame us for being cautious over so cryptic a message," Jaheira said.

"I should think far less of you if you were not," the nobleman replied, straightening up again. "Though considering your reputation I expected no other."

He smiled and looked them over. Anna recalled her predicament and flushed under his gaze. Jaheira stood immobile but Xan almost seemed frozen, staring at the man with a strange expression.

"So you know us. Care to let on who are you, then?" Finn said.

"Of course," the man said, and pulled his cape around into a deep bow. "Sarevok Anchev, at your service."


	63. In Amber

"Sarevok Anchev?" Finn repeated. "So you're—"

"Rieltar Anchev's son," Jaheira interrupted. "And if you believed that we would have any business with you, you are sorely mistaken."

She stared at the man with the coldest expression Anna had yet seen. Imoen put a hand to her mouth and Finn straightened up to his full height, though it still wasn't a match for the man who regarded them with an easy expression. But Xan's face had a strange look, like a dim flash of recognition. Anna wondered if he'd encountered the man before as well.

"I know you have little reason to trust me," Anchev said. "But I have a tale to tell, and if you would be so kind as to indulge it I will allow you to make up your own minds."

He gestured to the sofas but none of them made a move to sit down.

"Very well, then," Jaheira said. "But expect no favours from us."

"I never expect favours," the man remarked.

He seated himself in a chair by the fire and picked up the iron poker, thoughtfully moving the burning logs as he spoke.

"I do not blame you for being suspicious given the Iron Throne's reputation," Anchev continued. "And while I cannot claim that we never use a strong hand, I still maintain that our reputation is largely undeserved. Sembia is a hard place to do business and we have adapted accordingly."

_"Undeserved?"_ Jaheira spat. "You are behind the iron crisis! How many deaths have resulted from your intrigues? How much suffering? You have nearly brought this region to its knees!"

She shook with emotion and Anna stared at her, almost thinking she was about to attack. Anchev though merely glanced at her.

"Stories follow a path, and this one has an order like any other. I beg your patience. As I said, we do nothing that others do not, the only difference is that we do them openly. But every man has his limits. This insanity that my father has dragged us into will only bring our ruin, and I for one value my neck too much to sacrifice it to his madness."

He jammed the poker back into its place with a sharp clank. Jaheira folded her arms and glared at him.

"Pure greed is not madness," she said.

"Perhaps not," Anchev said. "But in my father they walk hand in hand. You see, many years ago he was badly injured in an assassin's attack. He recovered but was forever plagued by pain from injuries that wouldn't heal. For relief he turned to the lotus petal, and as age wears harder on him that vile substance becomes more and more his friend. You must know of the effects a lifetime of black lotus can have. It has left him unstable, and paranoid almost beyond comprehension."

Anna recalled the ugly black tinge in Rieltar's teeth; she'd marked it to a lack of cleanliness but realised with a shudder it was something more.

"He was all but driven out of Sembia by the leadership of the Iron Throne for taking reckless decisions and blatantly flouting the law," he continued. "I'd hoped perhaps a change of scenery might shake him out of his old habits, but he has fallen even deeper into the void."

"That's touching," Finn remarked. "But if he was that bad why didn't you just hand him in to the Fist, instead of nearly letting him start a bloody war?"

His look was no warmer than Jaheira's. The man rose to his feet and Finn's hand slid over to the hilt of his sword, but he quickly let it drop.

"Because even I didn't know the depths to which he had sunk," Anchev declared. "He locks himself in his chambers with those scoundrels who cling to his every word. Only by pieces has my father shown me the true depth of his madness, and by then this beast was already loose. My father took that foolish drunken dwarf's mine and used it to destroy us all."

Jaheira twitched.

"That drunken fool sacrificed his own life to put an end to your schemes," she said with quiet menace. "I will not hear of Yeslick spoken in such a way again, if you wish to have even the remotest chance of receiving our aid."

"He is dead, then?" Anchev said, his voice rising slightly. "I thought as much, but did not know for certain. He had a good heart but little head for business. All the same, his mine would have provided an excellent profit and endeared us to the Dukes for ending their dependency on Amnish ore—but instead my father sought to utterly eliminate the competition by using any means at his disposal. This madness must end."

...

He looked at them all, but they stayed silent.

"If what you say is true, then come with us to speak with the Flaming Fist. Tell them all you know about your father's plans so that they may finally act against him," Jaheira said.

Anchev shook his head. "No. I cannot be seen as acting against him. He would only denounce me, and his circle of cronies would deny everything. It would only lead to my death."

"He must have correspondences, evidence of some sort," she continued. "Could you not find them yourself?"

"It is not so simple as that," Anchev said. "The man is so paranoid that even I have no access to these things. Only his henchmen have what passes for his trust, and they are dangerous men. One is his private assassin and has killed I know not how many. I am no mean hand with a sword, but I would stand no chance alone. But you could act in my stead."

"To do what?" Finn said. "Kill your father?"

Anchev looked him in the eyes, and Finn flinched slightly.

"If you must. Once the evidence is known, no one would call his death a murder."

"And it would be convenient for you, certainly," Xan said. "To no longer have this paranoid madman in your company."

He kept his head down as if in thought, but his eyes slowly looked up at the man.

"I cannot deny it," Anchev replied, meeting his gaze. "But if I merely wanted my father dead I could have hired a hundred assassins, assuming that would be enough. _Proof_, my good elf, that is what is needed. And that is precisely what I cannot find on my own."

"And how would you suggest we find these proofs which so elude a member of Rieltar's own house?" Jaheira demanded.

"My father has always had a particularly devious mind regarding traps and wards," Anchev said. "His private chambers are like a viper's nest to the unsuspecting thief. I have no means or ability to get around these dangers myself. But you—you would have just the skills needed."

"Yes," Xan said, looking down at the bearskin rug again. "But one thing you have not yet mentioned is how you know of us at all."

"Yeah, do tell," Finn said.

Anchev smiled slightly. "I take it you have spent little time in the taverns. Every tinker and tailor in this city knows of the adventurers who freed the Nashkel Mine from its taint. And I have certain friends who tell me what is floating on the wind, for a price of course. When I saw you in the Seven Suns I guessed at your identity, and a few questions confirmed it to me. But now you have heard my tale. I ask, would you aid me?"

Again there was silence in the room. Anna took a step back but stopped feeling a trophy's cold nose pressing into her.

"You ask a great deal," Jaheira said slowly. "To ally ourselves with one of the very house that has caused these troubles...it is not an easy thing, no matter what the prize."

"I understand," Anchev said. "And I do not ask lightly. I shall do my part, for what it is worth. I can gain you entry into our compound and any information I have is at your disposal. But we must act soon. I have an uncomfortable feeling that my father is not done yet. Something...there is something more. But what, I do not know."

He shook his head, his gaze averted back to the flames. The light outlined his features; they were striking, Anna thought, but in spite of his fine words and dress he had a coarseness about him that she couldn't define.

Jaheira sighed. "I do not care for this, and I will not pretend otherwise. But we shall discuss your offer with our other associates."

"By all means," Anchev said. "Leave a message here for Olin when you have reached your decision, but I repeat that time may be of the essence. Until then."

He bowed formally once more and showed the rather dazed group to the door. As she departed Anna felt his hand brush slightly against her skirts, and she jumped at the touch. She glanced up and saw a small smile appear on his face. Anna quickened her step and followed after the others.

...

"Oh, Silvanus—why?" Jaheira implored the night streets as they made their way out of the tavern.

"The man's got balls, I'll give him that," Finn remarked.

"Is it that bad?" Imoen asked. "I know he seemed a bit shady, but maybe he was telling the truth."

"Shady?" Xan said. "You are a mistress of understatement. I do not understand—how can it be?"

He spoke almost to himself and Imoen gave him a puzzled glance.

"What's the matter?" she said.

"Nothing, child," he replied quickly. "Nothing."

"Do you know him?" Anna asked the elf.

Xan started. "No, of course not."

He looked away from her and said nothing more.

They found the others and hurried back to the house. None of them spoke a word about their meeting, afraid the night might have ears. The night seemed too dark to Anna; the sickle moon was hidden behind the clouds and even the street lamps looked dim. She began to regret even more her folly in bathing that day in the woods; if Sarevok Anchev hadn't recognised her in the Seven Suns he probably never would have guessed their identities. It seemed she should have known somehow, that she should have recognised him for what he was. But really, how could she have known? She tried to force away the thoughts but they kept eating at her.

...

"You cannot think to ally with this man," Kivan said once they were behind safely locked doors. "He is the very source of all this death! What does it matter if his father carried out these acts—he is his son, and as much a part of it as any."

"I agree," Ajantis said, frowning. "You cannot join forces with a devil and expect to walk away free of taint. Tell Captain Merion of this and let him act in whatever way he feels fit. I want no part of it."

"It does seem a desperate gamble," Jaheira said, rubbing her brow. "And why should he come to us? If this man has as many friends as he implies it seems that some could have aided him. Whatever reputation we've earned, we are still as strangers."

"My thoughts exactly," Xan said. "I cannot urge you strongly enough to avoid his offer."

The elf seemed unusually firm in his convictions. Anna glanced at him; his face was no less grim than when they left the inn.

"I didn't like him either," Finn said. "He's got something about him, doesn't he? I wanted to stick him the minute I laid eyes on him."

He also spoke with unusual bile, staring down at the carpet with a black expression.

"Perhaps we could convince him to work with the Flaming Fist," Anna offered. "Whatever we think of him he's still our best chance of getting at the Iron Throne. From what I read, they don't let anyone near the upper ranks without a lengthy trial of ordeal."

"That is true," Khalid said. "I do n-not think we can afford to d-dismiss him completely."

"You are correct, my husband," Jaheira sighed. "Although we shouldn't take him too close to our breasts, either. There is still every chance he is working with his father to corner us into a trap. I feel we should talk with Captain Merion before making any decisions—his opinion will be of great use."

"I do not know why they simply don't arrest the Iron Throne. Surely the evidence against them cannot be so weak? A blind man could see their hand in action here," Ajantis said.

He folded his arms and stared off into a corner of the room.

"I'm thinking our friend Commander Dosan might be playing a part there," Finn replied. "It'd make sense."

"The Duke's illness does seem rather convenient for his advancement," Jaheira said. "Though we must take care not to grow too paranoid, lest it distract us from the main issue. We shall contact the captain at first light. For now, let us try and get some sleep—there's little point in discussing this more tonight."

...

Tired though she was Anna didn't feel capable of sleep. She slipped out into the garden and sat carefully on the step, wary of anything that might be crawling unseen. The night was still dark, broken by a few glimmers of candlelight in the houses across the alley. An eerie, sharp bark broke the silence, making Anna flinch before she could remind herself that it was the cry of a fox. It sounded different in the city. After a time the door opened, and Finn came to sit next to her.

"I was wondering where you'd gone," he said, sliding an arm around her.

"Sorry. I just wanted some air."

"Not much of it tonight," Finn said. "It seems stale everywhere, doesn't it?"

"It feels like rain," Anna agreed.

She leaned her head against him and he drew her closer.

"Is everything alright?" Finn asked.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice rising slightly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Bit of a rough day," he replied.

"It was."

He ran his arm over her shoulders, massaging them gently. Anna shut her eyes.

"I keep thinking of running right out that gate," Finn said, laughing a little.

"Then I'll be right behind you," she said, smiling into the darkness.

Finn squeezed her again and they were silent.

"Shall I come to you later?"

He spoke softly but Anna still tensed.

"I think I might be asleep," she said with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah."

He said nothing else. Anna felt ill inside. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head into his chest. The embrace was awkward and it hurt her neck but she still held on.

"You can if you want," she said.

Finn caressed her back. She kissed him, rose up and went back into the house.

...

That feeling grew stronger as she lay in bed, denying her any chance of sleep. What was she doing? She chose to take Finn as her lover, and she couldn't hide from him forever. She wanted to go to him—she wanted to explain, but she had no words to tell him what she was feeling, for she didn't know herself. Why did she lay with him? One simple yes and her entire world was changed.

Anna lay awake but Finn didn't come. She wished he would; at least it would drive away that feeling, spare her from the thoughts that chased themselves around in her head. But he didn't come. Her chamber stayed quiet and empty and she felt a kind of madness taunting her in the darkness.

...

When sleep finally came and how long it stayed she didn't know. The sun hadn't yet found its way over the eastern hills and the air in the hall was still grey. She left her chamber without bothering to wash or do up her braids, and they looked ragged as straw after her restless night. Stumbling down the steps she regretted her decision though as Xan looked up from a book.

"It is rather early for you to rise," he said.

His tone seemed to imply that she could use a few more hours rest, or that he found her early entrance somewhat irritating. Anna ignored both interpretations.

"Is the kitchen fire up?" she asked, her voice rough.

"I gave it some fresh fuel, but it isn't bright yet," the elf replied.

Anna collapsed into a chair. Silence followed her into the room and it settled around her. Xan went back to his book. On the mantle the clock ticked slowly and faintly; she gazed at it but the room was too dark to tell anything of the time. She let out a long sigh before realising it.

"You could go back to bed," he said, his eyes still focused on the book. "There is little need for you to be awake at this hour."

"You're awake," Anna remarked.

"Yes," Xan sighed. "That is certainly true."

He glanced over at the clock, squinting his eyes to read the dials.

"What does that say? Useless dwarven machine," he muttered. "Telumendil is rising. The moon began her descent last eve..."

"What are you reading?" Anna asked.

"Elven astrology," he said. "I haven't paid it much heed in years, and this book reads like it was written by either a cryptic sage or a madman."

He grumbled to himself and Anna laughed slightly.

"So why read it?" she asked.

"I have an interest," Xan said. He flipped through a few pages, shaking his head. "My mother always understood such things as if they were written in plain Elvish, but I struggle with the patterns."

"That's a surprise," Anna said. "You decoded those letters with ease, I'd have thought this would be simple for you."

"It was not quite _that _simple," he replied, looking up at her. "But codes are an entirely different subject. Astrology requires an intimate knowledge of the planets and their spheres. It is not something I ever possessed, I admit."

"I use it quite a bit in my work, for alchemy and gardening. Do you want me to have a look?" she offered.

"If you can make sense of this, then by all means," Xan sighed.

...

Anna took the volume from him, glad to have something to distract her from her thoughts. But her confidence faded looking at the foreign columns and tables.

_"Ah, _it might help if I knew the Elvish symbols for the planets," she said. "It's a pity I don't have any of my books with me."

"I'm sure the answers are in there somewhere," he remarked. "Where did you learn Elvish? I was always somewhat surprised you knew my tongue."

"Oh, I just learned," Anna replied, flushing for some reason at the question. "Part of a well-rounded education. My father set me to it—I read a fair deal but I never had much chance to speak it till I was at Silverymoon."

"I see."

"Yes, I know my accent needs work," she said flatly. "I've been reminded of that by more than one of your kin."

"I said nothing of the sort," Xan replied, though she saw his mouth twitch.

"I actually grew up speaking Chondathan," Anna continued. "We hardly ever spoke Common at home. Making a change took some getting used to, although the two aren't leagues apart."

She held the book up close, trying to work out the symbols. The result was no better though and she lowered it again.

"I do not usually bother to speak anything other than Common—most I encounter have at least a passing familiarity with it. Although in Calimshan they enjoy pretending otherwise," Xan said, rubbing his brow with a fingertip.

Anna smiled. "My grandmother spoke Old Chondathan, a rare thing anymore. She taught me some, songs mostly. I never could follow it much though. It's a dying tongue—only a few greybeards still remember it."

"Your languages do seem to change quickly, rather like you yourselves," the elf said thoughtfully. "Although listening to Kivan I realise that Elvish must do the same."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Xan started, looking rather embarrassed.

"His clan have been isolated for generations, even from their kin elsewhere. As a result his speech is somewhat...old fashioned. Though I'd ask that you not mention I said that," he said quickly.

"Of course," she said, trying to restrain a laugh.

...

She looked back at the book, trying again to make sense of the flowing Elvish script. The light was too faint though and her tired mind rebelled against the activity. Without thinking she began to sing quietly.

_"Mirie it is while sumer-y last with fugeles son, oc nu neheth windes blast and weder strong. Oh, what this nicht is long! And ich with well michel wrong, soregh and murne and fast."_

"Pardon?" Xan said.

"Hm? Oh, sorry—it's one of my grandmother's old songs," Anna said, then began again in Common. _"Merry it is while the summer lasts and birds are in song, but nearer now draws the blast and weather strong. Oh, how this night is long! And I here with so much wrong, sorrow and mourn and fast."_

She stopped; she had no idea why she'd chosen that song, but somehow she considered it as though she'd never heard it sung before. Xan glanced at her.

"Not the most cheerful of songs, but rather fitting," he said. "Are you well?"

"Yes," she said slowly.

Anna roused herself and gave the book back to the elf.

"I'm sorry, I can't make much sense of this," she said. "I think I will go back to bed."

"A wise idea," Xan said, then spoke quickly. "But before you go, there is something I must ask."

She looked at him but he shook his head.

"No, what am I thinking? Forget that I asked."

"You didn't ask," she remarked. "What is it?"

"It can wait," he replied.

She left him biting on his thumb and staring into the empty fireplace. Anna shrugged and turned back up the stairs, thinking idly that she could use a book of astrology herself to work out what was on the elf's mind half the time. He kept his own counsel well. The air was growing brighter but she retreated to her room, hiding herself from the day for as long as possible.

...

The sound of a strange voice pulled her from bed. She dressed again quickly and went downstairs, where she was surprised to see Captain Merion pacing in the sitting room. He looked up at her with a nod but continued talking.

"Lavinia sent the kids to stay with relations in the country, but she won't leave the city, just as I thought," he said. "I think this is all getting to her—she was cold as a statue when I told her what happened with Jhasso. The lady's strong but that can't be good for her. And now this...bloody hells."

"What do you know of Sarevok Anchev?" Jaheira asked. "We knew Rieltar had a son but know little else besides his name."

Merion shook his head. "I don't know much more myself. He keeps his nose clean, no fights or complaints that I know of. He's a bit of a charmer I reckon, gets invited to all the good parties. Something of the presentable face of the Iron Throne. He's even cosied up to the Dukes though I don't think they're on great terms. With all the controversy surrounding the Throne's business here they couldn't afford to look too chummy with them."

"Presentable face, aye," Ajantis added. "Though a man may keep his true face hidden from public view."

"I can't argue with that. What he says about Rieltar adds up, though—half the lotus on the streets must get diverted into his compound. I always said the Dukes ought to make it illegal, once and for all. It rots a man worse than gin," Merion scowled.

"So do you think we ought to talk with him?" Finn asked.

Merion let out a long breath.

"Maybe. But I think...there's someone else you should talk to first."

"Who?" said Finn.

"The Dukes."

Anna looked at him in surprise. The captain seemed to deflate but he pulled himself up.

"There's no point in this waffling about anymore. We don't have much besides hearsay, but we've got enough of it now that they can't brush it aside. The only trouble is I don't think I could manage an audience without tipping my hand to Angelo. He's bound to find out, and he ain't going to be happy."

"Making the commander unhappy will not break our hearts, but if you have reason to suspect danger perhaps it would be best to find another way," Jaheira said.

Merion chuckled. "I don't know what's getting into me these days. Old Captain Scar, worried about a bit of a tussle? I ought to resign for even thinking of it. Nope, it needs to go ahead. The Dukes are honest people, for whatever their faults. We've got right on our side, and we'll win out."

"If that is what you think best, Captain, then we will agree," Jaheira sighed.

"Right then. I'll see to this," he said, warming to his idea. "With a bit of luck I might be able to get an audience for tomorrow. I'll send Andris round with word. But I need to get back to headquarters—I'm supposed to be conducting a drill right now. I shouldn't have slipped away but your news got me worked up enough that I risked it. I'll see you folks soon."

...

The captain bowed and departed, pulling his hood up as he went. Khalid ran a hand through his hair.

"He is brave, but I f-fear he is running too many risks for our b-benefit."

"And for his own," Ajantis said. "But I trust he knows what he is doing."

"He is correct though, if we speak with these Dukes we will no longer be able to hide in this city," Kivan said.

"I thought you didn't want to hide?" Finn said, sounding surprised.

"I do not, but neither should I wish to see our exits cut off. There is something foul in the air here, something worse than these sewers," he said, his grim face descending into a scowl. "How can we know who is our friend? The captain is a brave man and he seems honourable, but we know nothing of these Dukes."

"The Grand Dukes are honourable, I will attest to that myself," Ajantis said, sounding oddly offended. "They are the rulers of this city."

"And all rulers are honourable?" Kivan replied. "I respect your judgement, good warrior, but you have said yourself that the Dukes paid little heed when you told them your country was not to blame for these troubles. Why should they hear us now?"

"We can only try, Kivan," Jaheira said. "And our options grow no better by the day. For now...I suggest we venture out. Find whatever we may need, for battle or flight. Silvanus, I swear I can deal with little more of this."

...

Khalid and Ajantis elected to stay behind in case word from Merion arrived. Anna and the others spent the afternoon wandering the city streets, keeping away from the public squares as much as possible. They stopped in at a blacksmith's; watching the old dwarf at work Anna thought of Yeslick. She wondered if the smith knew him, that he might want to know what happened to his long-absent kinsman. But she said nothing though, instead standing on the straw-covered floor in a corner of the forge and waiting for the smith to sharpen Finn's blade.

The others traded in weapons and herbs but Anna bought only a dress. She felt somewhat ridiculous for bothering with vanity at such at time, but she reconciled herself by thinking they might have an audience at the palace on the morrow. It was a silk of rich golden brown, fairly plain in style but its colour reminded her of autumn leaves.

The sleeves were trimmed with a wide ribbon of woven gold that shimmered softly in the light, and the underskirt was patterned in gold and brown. She bought as well a new shift of soft cotton, with delicate edgings of lace. Finn seemed to approve of her purchases and he gave her a quiet smile, though they spoke next to nothing the entire afternoon. That feeling welled up again and Anna tried to drive it away.

...

The evening had drawn in by the time they finally returned to the house. Anna stumbled to a stop in the darkening alley, waiting for Jaheira to open the garden door. As the druid stepped through however Anna stood straight up in fear at the sound of a scuffle within.

"By Silvanus!" Jaheira's voice proclaimed.

"My apologies," a woman's voice said quickly. "We need to be alert."

Anna heard the sound of a sword finding its scabbard again, and Jaheira's reply.

"And you tend to be too quick with your blade, Revianne. But I cannot say what a relief it is to see you."

The woman must be of the Harpers, Anna thought, and her heart slipped back down into her chest. The woman's voice spoke again.

"I don't think you could blame me, considering. Are all these people with you?"

"Yes," Jaheira said. "But let us go inside now, we have much to discuss."

"Indeed," the woman replied.

Anna filed after the others into the house. In the light of the open kitchen door she could see the outline of the Harper woman's cloak, but nothing of her face. She secured the garden door and blended back into the shadows for her watch.

...

Two men and a woman met them inside. Anna stayed silent during the brief introductions, bobbing her head politely but nothing more. Despite Jaheira's obvious relief at seeing her comrades Anna felt strangely nervous. She didn't know why; there was nothing threatening in their presence. The woman wore a sign of Mystra and the younger of the men had the face of a soldier, but they seemed ordinary for that. The elder man however had a quiet intensity in the lines around his sharp blue eyes that made Anna feel bare whenever his gaze rested on her.

"It is good to see you again, Dermin," Jaheira said, giving the man a rare smile. "But it is something of a surprise. We hadn't heard that you were operating in the north. Where is Murcius? Has anything befallen him?"

"I go where called," he replied, smiling in return. "Murcius is hale and well, but the organisation decided his skills would be more useful elsewhere now. You and Khalid have been out of contact for some time."

"Not for lack of trying," Khalid said.

Glancing at him Anna wondered if it wasn't Khalid's face that made her nervous; he looked oddly strained for some reason.

"Indeed," Jaheira said. "But where have you been, brothers? We were growing fearful."

"Our work led us out of the city," Dermin replied. "But we shall discuss that later. I am curious to speak with your new comrades—your reports make them sound interesting indeed."

He looked them all over with another smile, though Anna thought his eyes rested on Finn. Jaheira's eyebrow raised.

"They are certainly not dull," she said. "But I think our deeds are more relevant for now. There is much more to these troubles than met the eye."

"I never doubted it," Dermin replied. "Khalid has told me much of these things and I wish to hear more. However, I'm afraid I must also tell you to prepare your pack. You are riding out tomorrow morning."

...

Anna had seen Jaheira's level face twisted by anger, frustration, and occasionally laughter, but she'd never seen such a look of pure surprise. If the man had emptied a bucket of water over her head she would have seemed less shocked.

"Ride out? To where?" she stammered.

"Cloakwood. We have been getting disturbing reports of Shadow Druid activity in the area, and as a druid yourself you have knowledge that will be most helpful. Revianne and Thuia shall accompany you, and of course Khalid as well. Hecan and I shall stay in the city to deal with our business here."

"Oh, gods—I don't want to go back to Cloakwood!" Imoen said.

"He d-doesn't mean you, Imoen," Khalid replied quietly.

"Yes, this is Harper business," Dermin said. "Khalid and Jaheira are two of the best we have, even if they have been somewhat slack in our rules of late."

"We only follow our orders as best we can," Jaheira said, her cheeks turning hot. "None of us would have survived if we hadn't taken initiative."

"Calm yourself, my dear," Dermin said, smiling at her. "It wasn't a criticism. You put common sense first, as always, and I'm proud of that. But now other duties await."

"Yes, but—with respect, I do not know if this is the time," Jaheira continued. "We have become deeply involved in this investigation, and to leave it now—"

"Your allies seem more than capable," Dermin interrupted. "And Hecan and myself shall be in the city to provide whatever aid we can. I expect this mission will take no longer than a fortnight, and with the gods' grace you will return soon."

"Indeed. But our orders were—"

"Your orders have changed," the man said firmly. "I trust you can understand that."

Jaheira let out a short, pained breath. She looked at Khalid. He gave her a small smile of sympathy but said nothing. She glanced at Finn, then back at Dermin.

"If that is your order, then we shall obey," the druid said. "But we should speak privately first."

"Of course. Don't worry about your companions, they aren't children to be abandoned. And they are all welcome to stay here for as long as need be—I don't think it will reflect poorly on us to harbour some company for now."

Jaheira nodded slowly. Anna felt stunned; whatever the man's words, the loss of the Harpers' guiding hands made her suddenly feel lost. She looked over at Finn. He ran a hand over his chin but she could read nothing in his expression.

...

The awkward feeling continued and Anna gladly helped Imoen move her things into her room to make space for the Harpers. They tugged the trundle bed out from the other, leaving barely an inch of spare space in the little chamber.

"What are we going to do now?" Imoen almost whispered, carefully hanging her new robe on a nail.

"Whatever we have to, I suppose," Anna replied.

She carefully hung up her own new dress then stripped away some of her bedding for Imoen. She collapsed back onto the straw-filled mattress with a sigh, watching Imoen methodically doing up her bed.

"You feel different every day," the girl said.

"Pardon?" Anna asked.

"I don't know how everything can change so much," she continued. "First you're excited, then you're scared, then you think you've seen everything. But the next morning you wake up and realise you haven't seen anything at all. Is this really what it's like on the road? Or are we just special somehow?"

She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head, still looking up at Anna. Her wide blue eyes and the small tuft of red hair peeking out gave her a very childlike appearance.

"I don't know," Anna replied. "I wonder that, too."

"I try to be brave. I put on the act. But then I realise, I'm just not," Imoen said.

"I think you're pretty brave. You wouldn't still be here if you weren't."

Anna tried to smile at her but Imoen pulled the blankets closer.

"I couldn't talk to Ajantis," she said. "I got all the way up to his room, I reached out to knock—but then it's like I just stopped. I couldn't do it. I felt so...stupid standing there. What would I say to him? That he could run away, leave his knighthood and everything behind? He's not some farmhand. Or that he could marry me instead—Lady Imoen, the housekeeper. Who am I fooling?"

"Imoen..."

"No, it's true," she said. "I was only kidding myself. I pretended to be an adventurer, pretended to be a mage, pretended a knight would actually fall in love with me. It's a load of old dog's bollocks."

Anna laughed a little in spite of herself and Imoen completely disappeared under the covers.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," Anna said. "But you're not pretending to do any of those things, are you? You are an adventurer—we all are by now. And you may not be a full mage yet, but you could be one day. And Ajantis..."

"And?"

"I can't help you with that," she sighed.

Imoen pulled the blankets down with a huff.

"Nope. You're just the lucky one."

"Lucky?" Anna asked.

"Yeah. You've got a fellow who fawns over you, even if it is my brother."

She smiled. "Well, it's like they say—you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince."

"Finn is _not _a prince," Imoen said blithely.

"He may be for all we know," Anna said, her thoughts turning.

"Chance would be a fine thing," Imoen replied. "A prince would put on clean socks more often!"

...

"What was he like, back at Candlekeep?" Anna asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"Just...anything. Did people—like him?"

"Yeah, mostly," Imoen said, rolling onto her side. "He'd always take time out to help anybody, even if he was on duty. Got him in trouble a few times. We used to go fishing in the sea. He loved it down there. I did too, but Finn would sit and stare at the water for hours."

Anna smiled a little and toyed with her blanket.

"So he didn't cause too much trouble, then?"

"Sometimes. But it wasn't ever anything serious, you know. Just bored lads' mischief. Well...except that once."

Imoen's face fell and she looked away.

"What about Gorion? What was he like?" Anna asked.

"He was a really good man," she said. "He knew more about stuff than anyone I've ever met. But he always seemed to keep Finn at arm's length somehow. I guess he just couldn't show his feelings too much. Some people are like that, I suppose."

"And he lied to him," Anna said, almost to herself.

"Yeah. Finn told me about that," Imoen said quietly. "Gorion was kind of strict—if he said 'no' that was it. But he never _lied. _I can't imagine him ever lying. He'd burst into flames. Why would he do that?"

"I don't know," Anna sighed.

"I wonder if maybe Finn wasn't really his son, after all," Imoen said. "Maybe he couldn't tell the monks he had a child out of wedlock. Or maybe his mother was already married to someone else. That might make sense."

"Does Finn look like Gorion?" Anna asked, surprised at the thought.

Imoen shrugged. "They both have blue eyes. Gorion was pretty old and stooped, but you could tell he used to be tall. He could've been. Maybe."

Anna leaned back on the bed, mulling the idea over. Imoen's ideas made sense in a way—Gorion seemed to be waiting until Finn came of age to tell him the truth of his parentage. Perhaps that was his secret? Anna couldn't imagine keeping such a revelation from her own child for so many years, but she had no better way of explaining it than Imoen.

...

She heard footsteps in the hall and a light rap on the door. Jaheira entered the room and shut the door behind her.

"Are you still leaving?" Anna asked, sitting up.

Jaheira nodded. Her tanned face looked drained and her mouth was tight. She sat at the foot of Anna's bed and spoke quietly.

"We tried to persuade Dermin to change his mind, but he is insistent and we cannot go against him," she sighed. "He was my teacher and mentor. I have known him as long as I've been in the Harpers, and I've never known him to make a wrong decision. This time though... But before we leave, I wanted to give you something."

She cleared her throat and drew some parchment out of her jerkin, handing it to Anna.

"These are the letters we received concerning Imoen and Finn," she said. "I think you should have them."

Anna stared up at her. She slowly opened a parchment and Imoen came to read over her shoulder.

_"__My Dear Friends,_

_I must ask of you a favour. Your mission to Nashkel, vital though it is must be delayed. Our friend Gorion has left the safety of Candlekeep with great haste, and I pray he is journeying north with his ward Finnigan as I write. I cannot give detail other than they are travelling cloaked. I ask that you wait for them at the inn, and as always I trust in your discretion."_

The letter was unsigned except for a symbol Anna didn't recognise.

"We received the other in Beregost, before you joined us," the druid said. Anna read onwards.

_"I cannot tell you how greatly the news of Gorion's death did grieve me; truly a light of this world was extinguished that day. I am thankful at least that his children were spared, and it is in Finnigan now that you must focus. His safety is paramount, yet shelter him we cannot. See to the problems in Nashkel and bring the lad with you. The others may think me mad, and not for the first time perhaps. But his troubles and the troubles of this region are connected, though how I cannot yet say._

_And I am afraid that you must walk this path alone. None of our kindred can aid you, but that does not mean there is no help to be found. Seek wisely. I shall watch and help in my own way but for now you must follow where Finnigan will lead you. Give him counsel, but let him choose his path. A daunting task, but I know of none wiser and more true of heart and you shall be his best guides. I bid you as well to keep this letter from his sight; questions must be asked in their own time. Godspeed, and may your way be light."_

_..._

"Who are these from?" Anna asked.

"A superior," Jaheira replied. "Which is why Dermin's order comes as such a surprise. But we must do as we are bid."

"Have you ever shown these to Finn?"

"No," she said grimly. "We did not think it was the time. But now—I do not want them to be lost."

"You're coming back, aren't you?" Imoen squeaked.

"I hope so. But one can never be certain. Shadow Druids are violent, and they have little love for my kind."

Anna looked into Jaheira's eyes, but quickly turned her gaze back to the parchment.

"You should give them to Finn, not me," she said. "He needs to see this."

"Perhaps," Jaheira sighed. "But you keep them. You can decide. Now though, I must get some rest. We are leaving before sunrise."

She rose up from the bed. Anna and Imoen both looked at her.

"Good luck," Imoen said quietly.

Jaheira smiled, a quick, tight-lipped little smile. Anna just kept looking; her voice seemed trapped somewhere in her throat. The druid drew a breath and went back to her own room. As the door closed Anna heard Imoen make a noise; she turned to see tears hovering on the girl's lashes. She squeezed her close and stared at the door, trying to fight off tears of her own.

...

_"Mirie it is," 13th century English lyric._


	64. The Garden

Anna and Imoen woke at the same time. They dressed mainly in silence; there didn't seem to be much to say. Anna distracted herself from the inevitable by fidgeting with her new dress. The bodice stays were much stiffer than her old frock and they'd take some getting used to. And the skirts didn't seem right; without a crinoline and underskirts they hung rather limply around her legs, lacking the gentle flow they should have. But the dress was clean and fresh and pretty and that was enough to satisfy her.

She left Imoen to wash and made her way downstairs. Most of the group were in the sitting room, though looking at them she thought they sat like people entertaining distant relatives. Khalid and Jaheira's sudden departure and the presence of the two Harpers seemed to have put them all on edge.

"I still find it remarkable that you were raised by Gorion, of all men," Dermin said. He sat next to Finn, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else. "He retreated to Candlekeep to find solitude and study, but I heard nothing of his adopting a child along the way."

"He was just full of surprises, I reckon," Finn replied.

"So it would appear. We were not close friends, but he was a trusted and valued compatriot. I was shocked by the circumstances surrounding his death."

"Me and all," Finn said.

He raised his eyes as Anna found a chair but dropped them down again.

"Yes," Dermin continued. "You have my heartfelt sympathy. In truth, his death and the strange events on this coast are what drew me north."

"A bit too late—that Davaeorn already had his way by then."

Dermin looked grave. "That was a blow which struck to the very heart of our organisation. We thought he would just disappear, and none of the Harpers expected him to take revenge in such a dramatic way. It is a failing we must reflect upon."

Finn's body shook with a silent laugh but he didn't respond. When Imoen appeared on the stairs he stood up.

"Hey, flower. I don't much fancy sitting around here today. How about we go and see if anyone's alive in this blasted town?"

"Hasn't Andris been yet?" she asked.

No word had arrived from Merion's lieutenant yesterday, and they still waited to hear if he'd managed to arrange an audience with the Dukes.

"Nope, and I'm not going to wait on him. What do you say?"

"Sounds good, if nobody minds," Imoen said. "I'll go get my coin purse."

"Don't worry, I've got mine," Finn said. "Let's just go."

He didn't look at Anna but she began to rise from her chair, assuming he meant her as well. Before she could stand though Finn came and gave her a quick kiss.

"I'll see you later, pet."

.........

He didn't look her in the eyes, and she stared at him as he headed into the kitchen. Anna glanced at Imoen. The girl watched her brother go in surprise, but she gave Anna a sheepish shrug and followed after him.

Heat rose to Anna's face and she shifted awkwardly in her chair. Finn's dismissal was plain and it struck like a dagger in her stomach. The others carried on with reading or quiet conversations but Anna kept her smarting eyes on the floor. Soon a pair of boots came and stood in front of her, and she looked up.

"I must leave myself," Ajantis said with a small smile. "I must...visit the temple. I would be honoured if you would accompany me, my lady."

Anna nodded but didn't reply, still feeling numb. She kept her eyes from the others as she waited for Ajantis to fetch his cloak, and the pair of them stepped out of the door, through the garden and into the rubbish-filled alley.

"Take heed," Ajantis said, steering her around a particularly foul patch. "I should not wish for you to soil your beautiful new gown. Shall I lay my cloak down for you?"

"No, thank you," Anna replied, thinking that the knight was likely the only man she'd met who actually would be willing to sacrifice his cloak to spare her shoes. "You are kind, but I don't fear the mud."

"It is not the mud that concerns me, my lady," Ajantis replied, and a smile crept over her face in spite of everything.

.........

She settled herself on his arm and they travelled through the busy streets. Ajantis guided them aptly, Anna noticed, always manoeuvring so that she need not push her way through the crowds. He paused once though, to lay a pair of gold pieces in a beggar's cap.

"That will feed him for a tenday," she remarked after they'd managed to move on from the beggar's thankful praise.

"Aye, if he stays away from the ale," Ajantis said. "Do you not think I should be so generous?"

"No, it is a kind thing. But most only give them a copper or two."

"Perhaps, but I always believed one should be most sparing with those who have the least to spare. Let my gold fill his cap. It means little to me, and I am fortunate enough to have more."

"And he is fortunate to have a cap," Anna said, running her hand over her bare head.

"My lady?"

"Forgive me," she said, venturing a laugh. "I was only thinking that I should wear a cap with this dress, the costume seems incomplete without one. I meant to buy one yesterday but I didn't have the time. Though it is rather foolish to be reminded of vanity by a man dressed in rags."

Ajantis smiled. "I do not think you vain for desiring a cap. Take comfort instead that your fair hair shall bring pleasure to all who look upon it."

"You are too kind with your praise," Anna muttered, flushing slightly.

"I have not offended you, I hope?" he said, taking notice of her look.

"Who could be offended?" she replied. "No, but—it's not necessary. I know you are a kind man, but we aren't at court. You don't always need to be so formal in your speech."

_"Ah,"_ Ajantis said.

He looked rather embarrassed himself, that tell-tale redness creeping up into his cheeks. Anna sighed quietly wondering if she'd managed to offend him in turn.

"I only try to speak to you as befits your station," the knight said after a moment.

A smile flickered over her face. "My station is not so great. I'm a smallholder in truth, a country craftswoman, not a fine lady."

"But, you are of a noble family," Ajantis remarked.

"I gained a title from my father, yes, but I spent little time in Cormyr. And my uncle holds a small manor, but the nobility of the Dales is a fairly humble one compared to what I have heard of Amn. Our servants were part of the family and we ate and drank together in the hall. I could throw a stone out my chamber window and hit a pig, if I chose to of course," she said with a little laugh.

"And you think this would matter to me?" Ajantis asked.

"Well, I—"

"You are a lady. And if I ever met a woman more deserving of the title, it is you," he said solemnly.

"Now you do flatter me," she replied, her cheeks growing hot.

"The truth is not flattery," he said. "But I hope my words do not seem bold. In honesty...I usually have great difficulty when conversing with ladies. I can think of little to say. Perhaps my words do sound overly flattering. I have been told so before, I admit. But they are sincere."

"Then your lady shall be lucky indeed," Anna said warmly.

..........

She spoke without thinking and watched the knight's face fall.

"I'm sorry. Have you—written to your mother?"

"Yes," he said slowly. "I told her that I am most honoured by her and my uncle's efforts, and I await her news. It was a difficult letter to write without being untruthful."

"Something tells me you haven't succeeded," Anna remarked.

His face grew hard.

"You are correct. But there is nothing I can do."

"Isn't there?" she said suddenly. "Why is it so vital? You are a knight, and your duty is your mistress. Surely your family would understand that you are not ready for marriage."

Ajantis turned his gaze out onto the street, looking over the buildings and people as though they weren't there.

"It is not just that. I have broken off an engagement before."

"So you must enter into another one?"

"No."

Anna looked at him. There was a strange pain in his eyes. She squeezed his strong arm gently and he spoke.

"They...say things, my lady."

"Your family?"

He shook his head.

"No. But I hear them, the things they say."

His voice almost cracked and Anna stared at him.

"Who? I don't understand. What do they say?"

The words seemed to hang on his lips, but he shook his head again and they vanished.

"No. Please, my lady, do not trouble yourself over me. I am a grateful man, and perhaps I can be a happy one. All will be well. But come, the temple is near at hand."

He gestured with his head and quickened his step. Anna bit her lip, wondering not for the first time what pained the knight so. To fight so strongly against his marriage—her thoughts turned then to the story he told of his first betrothed, how the lady lived in fear of their union because she loved another. But surely Ajantis could not be in love; he never mentioned a lady. And in spite of her sympathy for Imoen she knew as well the knight did not love her.

Suddenly though all his kind words and warm smiles flowed into her mind. No man had ever flattered her so. Surely, he could not—Anna glanced up at him furtively, looking at that proud jaw, the troubled blue eyes. Was it all just for politeness? Her heart raced as his gestures took on new meaning. Slowly she loosened her grip on his arm, and as they mounted the temple steps she let go entirely.

.........

Anna had never set foot in the Temple of Helm before; the imposing stone edifice was far from welcoming, and the armed sentries who stood guard at the doors didn't improve that impression. As with so many of the Watcher's temples it performed a double duty as an arsenal, a storehouse of arms and willing clerics prepared to serve to the last should the city come under attack.

Stepping inside though her eyes raised in surprise. Great stone columns lined the central aisle, supporting the vaulted roof that flew above their heads. Enchanted lamps hung from the ceiling and their misty fire provided the light the narrow windows denied. Around all the walls ran a great carved frieze showing knights engaged in brave battle with dragons, demons and other forces of chaos. Though Anna still didn't feel at home the temple had a kind of austere beauty and symmetry that she couldn't deny.

"I must pay homage to Helm," Ajantis said.

She let him walk ahead of her down the aisle. Anna watched him with low eyes, wishing she had Xan's gift of looking inside another's mind. She tried to shake away her ideas but now that they were hatched they refused to leave.

On the main altar stood a suit of fine plate armour, polished like silver and gleaming slightly in the light. Anna held back as Ajantis knelt on the step and began to commune silently with his god. Whoever owned the armour must have been a giant of a man, but watching the knight on his knees, with his head bowed forward she thought that Ajantis did not diminish in size by comparison. Even prostrate he seemed strong.

..........

He prayed for a long time and Anna shifted slightly, wondering if she should sit down. She looked again at the altar and her thoughts turned to Helm. The Watcher, the Vigilant One. Like a silent sentry she never paid him much heed, at least not until she heard the priests claim that he had killed Mystra. He was the reason magic became wild and dangerous, though in that horrible year it was the least of her concerns.

The Time of Troubles—they said the gods were forced to walk the earth then, mortal and vulnerable as their followers. People huddled in their houses, praying to gods who were now deaf to their cries. The very air smelled of fear and anguish. Anna stayed at home, rarely venturing into her beloved woods that now seemed dark and empty. Chauntea wept, and the crops were blighted and rotten. All descended but Helm, the eternal guardian.

When the chaos finally ended though all was not as it was, for some gods had perished forever. Forever? Who could truly kill a god, Anna wondered. Mystra was reborn. Some even whispered that Bhaal planned his resurrection through blood. She shook her head and turned away from the altar, trying to drive away her thoughts.

..........

Finally Ajantis rose from his knees. He held his blade up in tribute, then clapped his fist to his breast and bowed. He turned back to Anna sounding apologetic.

"Forgive me, my lady. I did not intend to spend so long, but I needed the wisdom of Helm."

"Don't concern yourself. I often pray for hours, though for me gardening is a prayer," she said with a small smile.

Ajantis nodded. "To work is to pray, as they say. How better to serve the gods than with the fruits of our hands?"

"As long as they are put to good use. By their fruits you shall know them," she added.

"Of course," Ajantis smiled. "Now I must find a cleric and pass on my letter. I feel...much improved."

"You do seem brighter."

She glanced up into his eyes but quickly looked down again.

"Thank you. You have a generous ear, my lady. When we are finished, might I trouble you to speak of these things?"

"Certainly," Anna said, starting.

Ajantis didn't seem to notice her tone. They found a priest; in any other temple the well-armoured cleric would have seemed out of place but she blended in with her parishioners, who all seemed to be in the warrior trade. Ajantis gave her the letter and walked out of the temple with a lighter step than when they'd arrived.

...........

"It is kind of you to hear me," he said. "I should not normally trouble you so, but I would like someone to hear my thoughts."

"Of course," Anna said.

Somewhat reluctantly she took his arm again and he led them to a small public garden. It was empty apart from the birds and flowers, and it felt calm in the mild sunshine. The summer's roses were past their peak, but their white petals still clung to the flower heads and dusted the earth like snow. Anna gathered a few petals in her hand and drew in their delicate scent.

"Do you like the roses, my lady?" Ajantis asked.

They sat down on a bench. Anna ran a finger over a petal; it felt softer than the silk of her new dress.

"I do love them. I grow them at home—some have the most remarkable colours. Though it reminds me that I haven't made any rosewater this year. I hope Maya has seen to it."

"A good servant will attend," Ajantis reassured her. "Our villa's garden is filled with jasmine. On calm nights their scent fills the air like the perfume of heaven."

Anna smiled. She let the petals fall from her grasp and they fluttered down to the path.

"That reminds me of weddings," the knight said, watching them fall.

"I suppose it would," she replied thoughtfully.

"Yes," he sighed. "My dear sister's is in little more than a fortnight. I wrote my mother that I fear I will not be back in Athkatla in time."

"I'd forgotten it was so soon," Anna said. "What will you do?"

"What I must. If duty keeps me here then my family will understand."

Anna made a sigh of her own and stared down at the petals.

"I thought of duty, in the temple," Ajantis continued. "And of happiness. I had feared that marrying this lady would not bring me happiness, but then it came to me that it would. To honour my family's wishes, to be a good husband, perhaps even a father—these things are happiness. My path is chosen for me, but that does not mean it cannot be a good one. And if I threw aside my duty it is certain no happiness would come. I should be forever in despair. When this answer came to me I felt light, and I thanked Helm for helping me to understand."

"Is that what you have decided, then?" Anna asked.

"I can think of no better answer," he replied. "When one hears the truth it strikes a certain chord, like a note on a fork. This rang true."

"Then I shall wish you well," she said.

...........

They were silent again. Anna looked around at the garden; the box hedges were perfectly trimmed, winding their way around the small square in endless knots. Silvery wormwood bordered the edges, looking like the moon next to the box's deeper green. The delicate flowers of herbs filled the spaces and punctuated the green with tiny stars of purple and blue. Plump bees hovered around the blossoms, gathering what nectar they could while the season lasted.

In the centre ran the circle of roses, their heads nodding slightly in the breeze. Suddenly the wind stirred, grasping the roses in its fingers and scattering the petals away up over the hedge like a playing child. A small bird chirped in protest at the assault and bopped back under the green.

"You often speak of your uncle," Anna said, driven out of her reverie by the breeze. "Are you close to him?"

"Yes," Ajantis said. "Keldorn is my mother's brother—my father and he were great companions when they were young, and it was fitting that they became brothers. And after my father's death he became as a father to me, even taking me as his squire. He is as honourable and righteous as any man I have ever known. I am proud to call him uncle."

"It is good he could be there for you," she remarked.

"Aye, it is greatly important for a lad of that age to have guidance. I remember the day the messenger brought the news. My father and brother, both dead. My mother crumpled to the floor weeping, and I could not lift her up." Ajantis paused, his voice growing thick again. "My sisters were wailing—they were still so young. I was angry. I thought I should be a man at that moment, but I was just a boy. I felt so helpless. Then Uncle Keldorn came, bearing their bodies back home. Watching him then I learned more of what it is to be a man than I ever have, before or since. He was strong but kind. He brought my sisters and myself to him, and comforted us. He held up my mother. I shall never forget that."

Anna smiled slightly in sympathy, but she had nothing to say. Her own eyes felt moist at the tale.

"He taught me the things my father should have," Ajantis continued. "He was firm and patient and good, even when I acted out."

"Now, I cannot imagine you acting out," Anna laughed.

"I was no renegade, true," he smiled. "Though I had my fits of youthful temper the same as any lad. I sometimes wish Keldorn would travel north—I believe he would put Finn to rights quickly."

...........

Anna's smile faded. "You don't approve of him, do you?"

"Not of his actions, no," Ajantis said seriously. "But I understand them. He is angry. Some men are born with excess of the yellow bile, and it seems his father did not do enough to correct this imbalance. His violent death cannot have improved matters. Without careful guidance this anger will overtake him, and lead to his ruin as a drunken ne'er-do-well."

"I don't think you should assign him so specific a fate," she remarked, bristling slightly.

"Do not think I seek to offend," Ajantis said. "But I have seen it happen before. Anger is the worst poison a man can drink, for it pollutes not just the body, but the soul. It corrodes faster and surer than any of your alchemist's acids. If he continues to drink from that font, you will not be able to save him. He will die."

Anna shuddered. She wondered for a moment if there was a conspiracy to place Finn's redemption on her shoulders, but she thought not.

"And if you will forgive me, my lady," Ajantis said hesitantly. "You have no menfolk here to state the truth, so I will speak in their stead. I worry that Finn's intentions towards you are not...chaste."

Anna made a queer noise in her throat, somewhere between a laugh and a choke. Her cheeks turned bright red and she stared at the path.

"Please forgive me for broaching such a subject, but I have kept my silence long enough," he said, his tone rising. "He is clearly used to a different standard of woman, one who is lacking in your moral character. I see how familiar he is with you, and it—angers me. I have often wanted to speak but felt that it was not my place. You should not allow it, Lady Anna. It will not go well for you."

Anna twitched again and she felt a scream building somewhere.

"Do not concern yourself with me, sir," she said, her teeth clenched. "I am not a young maid. I know the ways of men."

"Aye, but there is knowing, and _knowing. _If you had heard the disgraceful things he has said about you—Helm aid me, but I wanted to strike him. And after Xan told me what he had done—"

"What has Xan said?" she interrupted sharply.

"Forgive me. I should not speak of it, having not the truth for myself," Ajantis said. "That elf is long gone and I cannot question him on the matter."

"Which elf? Do you mean Coran?" Anna asked, looking at him in surprise. "What of him?"

"Aye. But please, put it out of your mind. The less you know of it, the better."

"I beg your pardon," she said, suddenly rising off the bench. "Do not speak to me as if I were a child. If it involves me then I want to know. Tell me!"

...........

The knight stared up at her, surprised by her sudden outburst. Anna glared at him and waited for his response. She felt an annoying tickling feeling on her cheek and irritably swatted at it.

_"Oh!"_

She felt her mistake the moment her hand touched her cheek as something buzzed alarmingly under her grasp. Anna cried out again feeling the bee's stinger pierce her flesh. She stared as it wriggled in her palm, driving the venomed tip further in. Ajantis stood quickly and took her throbbing hand in his.

"Here, let me see."

The bee struggled away from her hand, tearing its body in two and leaving the lower part sticking from her skin like a thorn. It fell helplessly to the path and Ajantis stepped on it with his boot.

"It will die regardless," he said, following her eyes.

Anna winced as he pulled the stinger from her flesh with a fingernail. Her hand grew red and it throbbed in pain, but the knight covered her palm with his and said a low prayer. A gentle warmth flowed into her, leaving a tingling coolness behind. When he uncovered her hand it was clear but for a tiny mark.

"Thank you," she said.

She pulled her hand away and wiped her eyes. Glancing up at Ajantis she thought his own eyes looked strange.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Anna said. "I've been stung by a bee before. It was just—startling."

"Let me see," he said again.

..........

She offered him her palm as if it held water. The knight took it hesitantly, touching her skin with light fingers. She wondered what he saw there; the sting was plainly healed. Still looking at her palm he spoke.

"My lady...might I ask of you..."

"Yes?" she said quietly.

"Anna...would you let me kiss you?"

_"What?"_

She pulled her hand away, staring up at him in shock. Ajantis' face turned bright red.

"Please, I ask that boon. Just...one kiss."

Anna had no idea what to say. The heat rose to her own cheeks and she couldn't see.

"I...alright."

Ajantis drew her closer. His arm slipped around her waist but he quickly let it fall. He raised her chin and they looked at one another. His eyes were bright but sad somehow, and she couldn't bear to look in them. Anna lowered her gaze and her eyes closed feeling his lips on hers.

Their touch was hesitant, dry. A part of her rebelled as she drew in a scent that wasn't Finn's but she felt too mesmerised to stop. Ajantis leaned further into her, his kiss deepening for a moment before pulling back like his arm. Delicately he caressed her cheeks but Anna's hands stayed at her side.

.........

At last he pulled away. Anna stared up at him in a daze, unsure if the kiss had actually happened, but her trembling middle and moist lips told her that it had. Ajantis' look was tender, but then a wave of pain washed over him.

_"Oh_, Helm—what have I done? Forgive me. I should not...what have I done to you?"

"It's alright," Anna said, her own voice shaking.

She bit her lip, tasting him on her tongue. Ajantis' face seemed to break.

"No, it is not. I have violated you. You are not my lady, I should never have asked for such a thing. And after all I said of Finn—I took worse advantage of you than he ever could. Please, forgive me."

"It...was only a kiss," Anna said, searching for something to say. Her brain felt foggy and a wave of guilt was beginning to wash over her as well.

"A kiss? No. A broken trust. I must confess to Finn what I have done. He will challenge me, I am sure, but—"

"You will not!" Anna exclaimed. "Please. None need know of this. Let it lie."

"But honour demands—"

"To the hells with honour," she said bitterly. "No good would come of it. Let it lie."

.........

The knight seemed startled by her words. His mouth opened but nothing came out. Anna felt another burst of heat and she spoke.

"Ajantis—do you love me?"

He looked more startled still. His mouth opened again, and one soft word formed.

"No."

Anna laughed distractedly and ran a hand over her damp brow, feeling a pain from the sting at the pressure.

"Why—why did you kiss me, then?" she asked.

"I...do not know. I wanted to...I wanted to _feel_. I needed to know," he stumbled.

"Sir, you drive me to madness," she declared.

"Please forgive me," Ajantis repeated.

Anna felt her legs giving way underneath her. She collapsed back down on the bench, and Ajantis slowly followed. Neither said anything. Despite the sunshine the garden seemed dim to her sight and the flowers blurred.

"Will you tell Finn of this?" he said after a time.

"No. He'd hardly be so formal as to issue a challenge, and the last thing we need is more complications," she said, almost to herself.

"I am sorry I burdened you with such guilt."

"Please stop apologising," Anna said. "You didn't force yourself on me. Just...forget this ever happened."

.........

"I should go back to the temple," Ajantis said after another moment.

"To seek penance?"

"No. To stop the letter."

"But...if you have no feelings for me, why change your mind?" Anna asked.

Ajantis looked at her, a small smile on his troubled face.

"I have not changed my mind. I wish to tell my mother instead to expect me for Melia's wedding."

"You're not leaving?"

Anna sat up straighter and looked at him in surprise.

He nodded. "It is for the best. I made an error, my lady, and staying here will only make it grow worse. How could I look upon you, or at Finn after this? Or poor Imoen, even. I know she cared for me, but it is an affection I cannot return."

"You have used that girl poorly," Anna said, trying to ignore the fact that she had just done the same.

"I know. And I regret that."

"But please, Ajantis—don't leave. We need you here. With Jaheira and Khalid gone...we need someone of your strength," she implored.

"My strength has failed me," he said grimly.

"It has not. The heavens know what persuaded you to—but could you leave us fighting the Iron Throne? That's more important than some awkwardness. Please, don't go. If you want to make amends to me, you will stay."

..........

The plea was manipulative, and she felt it. But she was genuinely alarmed by his announcement and too shaken up regardless to care.

"Perhaps you are right," he sighed.

"Duty," she repeated.

"Yes. Duty."

Ajantis leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face with his hands. He seemed shrunken somehow, Anna thought, deflated. Slowly she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. He started at the touch, and she pulled it away.

"We should return to the house," he said. "Merion may have sent word."

"Yes," she said quietly.

They rose up and wandered out of the garden. On impulse Anna took his arm, feeling his muscles stiffen at her touch. She loosened her grip but Ajantis caught her hand and pressed it into place. They walked back in silence, their eyes focused on the street ahead.


	65. Shapes

"You should talk to Imoen," Anna said.

She glanced up at Ajantis and the brow over his eyes furrowed deeper.

"You wish me to tell her—" he hesitated.

"No, not that," she said quickly. "But I know she's feeling hurt. Just say something, anything that might make her feel better."

"You are right—I must begin to act like a man. Perhaps I could say that destiny has conspired to keep us apart, and we must bear it nobly."

"Do you think she'd believe that?" Anna remarked.

"No," he sighed.

Anna let out a breath of her own. Her brain still felt foggy from their kiss and she regarded the people they passed with no interest. Why did he do it? She thought perhaps out of love, but if his true feelings had surfaced in the garden then he drove them back down again with vigour. And Ajantis was certainly no cad to take advantage of an unguarded moment. Perhaps his undesired marriage was pushing him from despair into madness.

But another question lurked in her mind, one she kept driving away—she let him kiss her. Perhaps it was just surprise at the request, but still, why? She shook her head and forced the thought away.

"Are you certain you do not wish me to speak with Finn as well?" Ajantis asked as they manoeuvred around the dirty alley.

"No! Absolutely not," Anna replied, with more force than she'd like.

The knight bowed his head but said nothing else, and they entered the house together.

...........

Stepping into the kitchen they found the Harper Dermin sitting at the table, with a small journal open before him. He closed the book and did up its leather bindings at their entrance.

"Greetings, friends. I trust you've had a pleasant afternoon?" he said.

Their reply was somewhat half-hearted.

"Has Captain Merion sent word?" Ajantis asked.

"I'm afraid not," Dermin replied. "I hope there have been no difficulties. I'd be quite interested in hearing what the Dukes have to say on this matter myself."

"Have the Harpers had no contact with them?" Anna said.

"Not in some time. They seemed determined to ride out this storm without our aid, though in the end we were involved all the same."

"I can sympathise," Ajantis replied, rather tersely.

"Yes, I have heard of the Order's attempts to bring peace. But no words will bring comfort to those unwilling to hear," Dermin said.

Anna thought the Harper's face took on a grim look.

"What—you don't mean the Dukes actually want war, do you?" she said.

"I would not say that, but neither I think do they want peace."

He spoke quietly, running his hand over the journal.

"You seem to have some insights. Would you be willing to share them?" Ajantis asked. "The Order has been greatly frustrated in these events, as you likely know."

"Such as I am able, my good knight. They are only my own thoughts, and not those of the Harpers as a whole."

"Of course," Ajantis said.

.........

He pulled out a chair for Anna and she took a seat at the table. Though she wanted nothing more than to escape to her room and forget about her troubles she was curious to hear what the Harper had to say. And as she knew by now, a swift retreat ultimately did little to ease awkward tensions.

"As you must know, the Dukes' forbears carved a city-state out of the wilderness, one founded on the ideals of liberty and trade," Dermin began. "The towns in the region have long operated almost independently of the city, to the benefit of both. Yet the world is always turning. The wilderness which once seemed like a defensive wall has shown that it in fact only harbours the enemy. The Dukes have stretched the Flaming Fist to the ends of their remit, but they still could not hold back the tide."

"Bandits and monsters have always been a problem on the coast," Anna remarked. "But no one could have expected a bandit army to take hold. The Flaming Fist and local guards are usually sufficient."

"Perhaps, but it has shown them their weakness. Baldur's Gate has a strong sea presence but their infantry is rather woeful. Unlike Amn, there simply are not enough able-bodied men and women to make up the ranks. I have heard that the Flaming Fist have begun to organize citizen militias in Beregost, and emissaries are moving even more quickly between the city and other towns in the Lord's Alliance. The significance of that is hardly light."

Anna felt alarm at the news, and Ajantis looked concerned.

"But the commander of the Flaming Fist seemed to imply that the iron crisis was at an end. If the Dukes feel thus why still prepare for war? Amn had no part in this, and that should be clear by now."

Dermin shook his head. "Wounds such as the ones this coast have suffered do not heal overnight. People are suspicious, paranoid of an invisible enemy. Our friends in the palace tell us that the Dukes felt Amn's actions were suspect, whatever the circumstances seemed to suggest. And it would appear that they haven't changed their minds."

"What actions?" Ajantis demanded. "Is proclaiming innocence an indicator of guilt? Amn has never violated our agreements with the Dukes."

Agitation took him and he smacked his fist against the table, making them all jump.

"Calm yourself, sir, those are not my words," Dermin said. "But when it became clear this tainted iron was coming from Nashkel the Dukes ordered a blockade of the town, to prevent any more foul ore from travelling north. Amn took great offence to this and threatened action of their own if the Dukes proceeded. In the end the Dukes backed away rather than risk upsetting their powerful neighbour, and a trickle of tainted ore soon became a flood."

"Then Amn did nothing about the taint?" Anna asked, surprised.

"They assured the Dukes they were capable of dealing with the problem themselves. Perhaps they underestimated the situation, or their own natural pride stepped in the way. Knowing the ways of Amn the responsibility was likely passed hand-to-hand between bureaucrats for months. Regardless, the end result you know well."

"I had heard nothing of this," Ajantis admitted. "The mine's owners assured the Council that they'd taken every possible step to ensure the taint did not spread, and the Council accepted their word. But even Amn has not been free of this plague—I have heard reports of tainted iron as far south as Imnescar."

"And yet, did you never wonder why your country was so much more spared?" Dermin asked.

"What do you mean?" the knight replied.

"The Council of Six ordered all Nashkel ore seized upon crossing the peaks. They did it quietly, making out problems with tax or any other excuse they could create. The shipments were buried, and the merchants compensated to keep them quiet. As a result, Amn has been mostly free of plague. Their soldiers' blades are still strong in their hands, while those of this city turn to rust."

Anna and Ajantis stared at the man.

"And the Dukes knew of this?" Ajantis said slowly.

"Amn couldn't keep their actions hidden forever. And I think you might agree it makes their squabbling over the Dukes' blockade seem rather hypocritical at best, and extremely suspicious in the worst."

"It is shameful," Ajantis said. "Dishonest, and weak-livered. Though sometimes I think I should expect little else from my country."

Anna glanced at him, surprised. He bowed his head forward and rubbed his brow with his hands.

"It is not your disgrace," Dermin said. "I myself am more inclined to think of incompetence rather than ill intent. But you understand now why the Dukes are not so quick to hear words of Amn's innocence."

"Do you think there will be war?" Anna asked quietly.

"I do not know, young lady," Dermin sighed. "There are many hands in action, many groups with a vested interest on both sides. But in the end the decision is out of our hands."

Anna drew a deep breath. She found it hard to imagine that she could feel more tense than when they walked through the door, but now her thoughts were subsumed by a far worse trouble.

"Did you need to send them away?" she said, almost to herself.

Dermin gave her a smile.

"Harpers must always be ready to answer their call, even when they would prefer to not. Khalid and Jaheira know their trade well. You should be thankful that they have aided you for as long as they have."

Anna pursed her lips and turned away from his look. Dermin, she'd discovered, had a face that could smile without smiling and she didn't truly care for it.

............

She settled in to another afternoon of silent waiting. Finn and Imoen still hadn't returned, and Lieutenant Andris remained absent. Ajantis retreated quickly to his room, ostensibly to tend to his armour. He avoided looking her in the eye as he bowed and took his leave. Anna bit her lip and gave replying a nod that he didn't see.

Xan was still sitting in that chair with the cryptic astrology open on his lap, though he spent more time looking out the window than at the page. What had he said to Ajantis? Anna wondered but she couldn't bring herself to ask.

And Kivan was nowhere to be seen. Anna wondered where he went in the afternoons; he seemed to find the house suffocating and spent a great deal of time off on his own. Though she tried she couldn't imagine anywhere in the city that would appeal to the ranger.

The stays of her new dress bit irritatingly into her sides and she broke down and went to change. It served her right, she thought grimly, for buying made clothes rather than seeing a dressmaker. But her old frock seemed even more worse for wear after the fresh silk and it didn't improve her mood. She thought of Finn's attitude that morning and her stomach twisted again. Anna glanced at her tired reflection in the mirror and tossed her head, trying to force herself to believe that she didn't care.

............

She went back downstairs and seated herself in the silent room. Xan glanced up, then turned his head back to the window.

"Are you leaving soon?" Anna said suddenly.

She had no idea what made her ask. Xan looked at her.

"I have no plans to venture out this evening, if that is what you mean."

"No. I just meant—are you leaving."

He seemed somewhat puzzled by the question.

_"Ah. _No. Why would you ask?"

"I don't know. You said you had business to deal with the other day, so I thought—"

She stopped, realising it was Ajantis who put the thought in her head. His plan to leave must have shaken her worse than she'd realised.

"No, I...have heard nothing yet," Xan said.

He cleared his throat and something in his expression made Anna regret mentioning it.

"Is that unusual?" she asked.

"Little is 'usual' in my trade," he said. "It depends entirely on the situation. Though I had hoped for a response by now."

He bit on his thumb as he always did when he grew thoughtful.

"Khalid and Jaheira are gone," Anna said quietly.

"Yes. But they must do what is required of them," he replied.

He closed his book and turned back to the window. By his sigh Anna reckoned he wasn't any more comfortable about it than she.

"It's strange to think that so many in our group are in service to others," she remarked. "We spent so much time together...I guess I'd forgotten about it."

"Be thankful that you are not. You could leave this madness whenever you wish—others are not so fortunate."

"It isn't quite so simple as that," Anna said.

"No," he sighed again. "It never is."

Anna bit her lip, watching the elf as he stared out the window at the empty street.

"I wonder—what do you think became of Coran?"

Her heart jumped at the question but Xan didn't turn around.

_"Seldarine,"_ he snorted. "Likely even the man himself doesn't know."

"Did you not like him?" Anna asked, somewhat surprised at his tone.

"It is not so much a question of like or dislike," Xan replied. "His skill with a bow was of great help to us, when he was here. But he was a soft-hearted fool, and little more."

"That doesn't sound much like affection."

"No. But what do you want me to say? We had little in common, and apart from the trouble he caused us I cannot regret his departure. I am certain he will be fine, wherever he is. Fate has a way of protecting ones such as him from their folly—at least, for a while."

Xan muttered something to himself in Elvish and opened his book again. Anna sighed. She knew she couldn't ask what Coran had said, and a part of her didn't want to. She rose from her chair and went upstairs without a word to the elf, who seemed engrossed in his reading and didn't look up.

............

Anna burned through a candle while lying on her bed, thoughtfully turning the pages of her spellbook. She did no studying, looking instead over the arcane glyphs and illustrations as if she hadn't seen them before. For nearly ten years she'd had that book—Anna remembered well the day her father presented it to her, along with her beloved but now rather tattered robe. She remembered her pride and excitement; she was a journeyman mage now, no longer an apprentice. She was free, she could go as she pleased. All of Toril awaited her steps. But in the end, she stayed with Father.

Still her book read almost like a diary to her; each spell was more than that, it was a record of a time and place. The powder of dispelling from that old apothecary in Ashabenford, the one who'd employed her father all those years ago—he swore it was an old family secret dating from the Netherese Empire. Anna was always somewhat sceptical of his grand ancestral claims, but then who could say? Perhaps he was.

She worked for him that summer, spending all those sunny days hunched over that mortar the size of a basin while the world passed by outside. Not that she minded so much—his other assistant had an appealing face and a smile that always earned a reply. They spent hours together laughing and talking when they should be at work; the apothecary was rather deaf and didn't hear them even from the next room.

That summer was a happy one, perhaps the happiest she'd known. Local rumour made plans for them and though there'd been nothing definite said she never tried to deny it. He didn't seem to mind either, and every day she waited with a quivering, naive excitement on a question.

But when the leaves began to colour he decided to visit a cousin in Tilverton. She all but said that she'd be happy to join him but he only responded with excuses, and by the first snowfall his indifferent letters had ceased entirely. She cried, but there was nothing she could do. When her father announced he planned to travel to the Sword Coast she was happy enough to go with him, little imagining it was the last she'd see of her home.

...........

Anna slapped her spellbook shut and closed her eyes with a groan. Could no pleasant thoughts come to her anymore? That boy was far gone and she'd long ceased to care. But deep down she knew why the pain had returned; she was losing another, and she felt as lost and hopeless as her adolescent self all those years ago. Did nothing ever change? She was her own mistress, a grown woman, yet from the moment one wayward orphan turned around in her sitting room her life had been on its side. She might laugh if it weren't all so ridiculous and pathetic.

She stayed in her room until Imoen returned, porting an armful of parcels and a sheepish smile.

"Hey," the girl said.

"Hello," Anna replied levelly. "Been shopping, I take it?"

"Yeah, I got all kinds of stuff," Imoen said. She dropped the packages on her bed and began loudly tearing off the paper. "I had my boots fixed, and the cobbler's making me some nice shoes. I got a really nice cape, and some hair combs—tortoiseshell—and some new gloves. Feel them, they're soft as butter! They cost a fortune but this embroidery is just gorgeous..."

Imoen seemed to sense that Anna had little interest in her trophies and she broke off.

"Did Finn buy you all these?" the mage replied, dutifully feeling the lavender-hued leather.

"Sort of. I promised to pay him back," Imoen said. "He needs to take you shopping."

Anna let out a short laugh.

"I think I can manage on my own."

"Are you mad at him?" Imoen asked.

"I don't know," she sighed.

Imoen gave her a tight-lipped smile.

"He was a sulky bastard all afternoon, wouldn't tell me why. Tell you what, just give him a swift kick in the bollocks. That usually sorts him out."

Imoen spoke so seriously that Anna couldn't help laughing. She looked up to see the girl's eyes twinkling.

"There you go! Don't worry about him, he gets this way sometimes. He's just a moody bugger. But he doesn't mean anything by it," Imoen said.

Anna's smile faded. "It's not really much of an excuse."

"I know," she sighed.

............

Anna consented to admire Imoen's new goods though she didn't really pay them much attention. Imoen began to talk without pause about their day, describing every event with an inordinate amount of detail. To her relief though she never asked about Ajantis. Although she had a gift for making even the most mundane encounters sound hilarious Anna couldn't help but see a sadness in Imoen's eyes; humour was both a tool and a mask for her.

She was glad when a quiet knock sounded on the door, but surprised to see Finn peeking his head around the frame.

"Hey, ladies," he said. "Hope I'm not interrupting your party?"

"No, I was just...on my way downstairs," Imoen said.

She rose up and swept out the door, new cape and all, leaving Anna and Finn in an uncomfortable silence.

"Have you been here all day?" Finn asked, making no move to sit down.

"No. Ajantis and I went out."

She cringed slightly at the mention but for some reason she felt the need to include his name.

"Oh."

Finn came and sat on Imoen's bed, pushing aside the mountain of wrapping paper. Anna folded her arms and looked intently at the ceiling.

"I got you something," he said.

"What?" Anna began, but stopped puzzled when she saw him holding up a key.

"I thought that Helm and Cloak looked pretty fancy the other day," he said. "So I...got a room."

Anna stared at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he said, tucking the key back in his pocket. "Why, didn't you like it there?"

"What about Sarevok Anchev?"

"Well, he doesn't live there, does he? I figured it'd be alright. It's a proper nice room, this. I went up and had a look. It's got a marble fireplace, and the bed's about the size of the kitchen here."

Anna twitched. "So I'm just supposed to go and spend the night with you at your command, then."

"What's that mean?" Finn asked.

"Never mind," she said coolly.

She looked away but she could feel Finn's eyes on her.

"Look, I'm sorry about this morning," he said. "That fellow was doing my head in—all these questions about Gorion. You'd think he never met him in his life. I had to get away from him or I'd have snapped."

"And you couldn't ask me to go with you?" she demanded. "I was sitting right there, Finn, you didn't have an excuse this time."

............

She glared at him and his face turned hard.

"Alright," he sighed. "I just...needed to get away, alright? And you haven't been acting like you've wanted anything to do with me anyway, not since—"

"So you thought getting us a room would help that?" she interrupted. "You just don't understand at all."

The words flowed out of their own accord, surprising even her. Finn's lip twitched.

"I didn't get _us _a room," he said. "I got it for you."

Anna's eyes were growing hot, but she glanced at him.

"I know you can't stand being shut in, and this room feels like a broom cupboard," he said. "I thought I'd do something nice for you, give you somewhere where you could have a proper bath and maybe get some sleep for once. You're wandering around like a zombie anymore. If you wanted me to stay, I would, but I didn't expect a bloody reward."

"But you said, the other day—" she began, wiping her eyes.

"Yeah, well, that was when I thought you still liked me."

His flat reply stung her hard.

"Do you think I don't?" she choked.

"Anna, I honestly don't know. Every day you're different, I never know if I've pissed you off or not. It takes all I've got not to just think that you're messing with me worse than Safana."

She glared at him, but her anger faded looking in his own reddening eyes.

"I do care about you," she said. "You know that. But...this isn't the way it should be."

"What do you mean?" Finn asked.

"This wasn't...it isn't supposed to happen this way. Don't you understand? I was supposed to be married. I waited, then you..." her voice wobbled as words began flooding out. "You'll grow bored, sooner or later, then I...what will I have left? Nothing. It's not a game to me, Finn. This is my _life._ At least, it used to be my life. But I don't know whose it is anymore."

...........

She felt a coldness creeping up from the inside of her stomach. Finn kept staring at her, his expression unreadable.

"Do you want me to marry you? Is that it?"

"No," Anna said, startled by the hardness hiding in those words.

Neither of them said anything. They both sat still on their beds, frozen into position. At last Finn drew a breath.

"I don't know the way things should be. I only know the way they are. But it's not a game to me either, Anna. I don't know what I need to do to get you to trust me. I don't—I'm not even sure what I'm doing here right now."

He let out a groan and rose up to leave, but she caught his hand.

"Don't—just...stay. Please stay."

Finn looked at her and she spoke again.

"Stay. I want you to."

She pulled him down onto the bed next to her. Her eyes were too wet to look at him but she kept caressing his hand.

"I'm just afraid...do you understand? Afraid of everything. I don't know what to do anymore. I do want to be with you, but..."

She broke off, and Finn wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders.

"I know. But won't you just...let me in? I love you. I'm not going to hurt you. You don't need to lay with me if you don't want to, but..."

"Do you really love me?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said, pulling her closer. "I just said so. Your ears getting stuffy?"

Anna tried to laugh and reached around his arm to wipe her eyes.

"I've never lied to you," he said. "I don't know why you'd think I'd start now."

"Then what happened with Coran?"

Finn loosened his grip.

"What are you talking about?"

"Tell me what happened with him and Safana. I know they didn't just leave."

..........

She pulled back from him. Finn looked surprised, then looked at the floor.

"There's not much to tell. I caught them going at it at the Friendly Arm. I saw them sneaking off to one of the buildings and I followed them. Sure enough there they were, naked as the day they were born. I could've busted Coran's face right open but if there's ever been a fellow happier to see his girl mounting some other bloke, I can't imagine it."

Anna stared at him.

"Gods, why didn't you say?"

"Not really a subject for polite conversation, is it? After I pulled him off we had a little man-to-elf chat. I said there wasn't any point in all this carry-on anymore. I told him to take Safana and get out of my face. I told him to keep his bloody hands off of you and Imoen as well, or he'd answer to me. That's it. Next thing we know, they took their chance and left. I didn't say ought about it—there didn't seem to be much point. Good riddance."

Anna leaned back on the bed and drew a shaking breath.

"Why did you want to know, anyway?" Finn said. "Does it matter?"

"I just—no," she said quietly.

She laughed slightly and shook her head.

"Good. That woman was so cold I think I'm still thawing out," he scowled. "All she wanted was a big strong bloke she could tease into doing whatever the hells she wanted. And when she didn't get her way she jumped ship."

"Then why did you go with her in the first place?" she asked. "I could've told you that the minute I laid eyes on her."

Finn shrugged. "Because she was a pretty lady who threw herself into my lap? And you said you didn't want anything to do with me, so you can't say we had anything going on then. I'm human, Anna. Not much else I can say. I learned my lesson. I don't think about her at all now, if that's what's worrying you."

It wasn't, but she said nothing.

...........

"So...do you like me again?" he said.

_"Oh_, Finn," Anna sighed, leaning in to him. "I think I do need that key, after all."

He laughed and squeezed her shoulders.

"See? I'm not as thick as you think."

Anna smiled. "But I don't know—I don't think I want to stay at the inn all by myself."

"Was that a hint?" he asked, and she flushed. "Don't worry. Look."

He reached into his pocket again, and pulled out two room keys.

"One for you, and one for me. Well, mine's really a servant room next to yours. I couldn't swing for two fancy rooms—I'm not made of money, you know."

He chuckled and Anna managed a laugh with him.

"That's better," Finn said. "Come on now—pack your bag and we'll go. We can order in some supper. I'm hungry as a wolf."

"But what about everyone else?" she asked.

"They're Imoen's problem!"

He rose up and stretched, laughing. Anna smiled up at him.

"Hey, you haven't got your new dress on," Finn said. "Best to change—I told them the room was for my lady, it's the only way they'd let a scruffy git like me into the place."

"Are you to be my boy, then?" she said, some of her humour returning. "Tongues will wag."

Finn gave her a naughty look but reached for the door.

"I'll meet you downstairs, Mistress."

Anna's cheeks turned pink but she bolted the door behind him, lest he decide to make another entrance. Her heart leaped with a strange excitement as she changed her dress, making it hard to properly work the laces. She gathered up a few things and slipped them into a small cloth sack; hardly a travelling case for a lady, but it would have to do. She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders but paused before the mirror on her way out the door. Her eyes were still red and tired, but now they smiled out at her.

............

She hurried out of her room but paused seeing Imoen on the stairs.

"Ready to go?" she grinned. "You might have to wait—Captain Merion is here."

Anna followed her down the stairs. Finn waited there, with a strangely large package in his grasp. He smiled at her and she went to stand next to him. Ajantis, Xan and the two Harpers waited as well and Anna noted that Kivan had re-materialised. He stood quietly in the corner of the room, listening to the captain speak.

"Evening," Merion said to Anna. "As I was just saying, I've managed to pull off an audience for tomorrow morning."

"That's good news," she said.

"Aye," he replied. "I was banging my head against the wall—the Dukes' schedules were rammed, so they said, and I couldn't even get to see them in person. Had to go through their secretaries like I was some almoner begging for a donation. But then I get this message not an hour ago." He held up a letter, complete with gilt ribbon and official-looking seal. "We're to meet with the Dukes in the palace, just after the morning devotions. I could hardly believe it."

"Are they normally so reluctant to meet with a high-ranking officer of the Flaming Fist?" Ajantis asked.

"No," Merion said. "But Duke Eltan was my commanding officer and I saw him nearly every day, so there was never much need. And trying to arrange an audience with the other three isn't an easy thing. I might've picked any one of them to talk to, but this is serious enough that they all should hear."

"I agree," Dermin said. "And what of Eltan's condition? We have heard little of late."

Merion glanced at him, and Anna thought he looked somewhat put out by the presence of the Harpers.

"You likely know as much as me," he said. "If he'd have died we'd have heard, but otherwise we're all in the dark. I keep hoping his son Cernan would sail into port—he's captain of the _Calim Rose _and a damned good fellow. But he's been at sea for months and the gods know when he might be back. And the Duke doesn't have any other family here I could call on."

The captain shook his head and Xan spoke.

"What of Dosan? Does he suspect you of anything?"

Merion's face turned grim. "If he does he's keeping it close to his vest. He's been nothing but business these past few days. I can't think I'd be lucky enough for this to slip past him, but I haven't given up hope."

"Regardless, we thank you for your efforts, Captain," Ajantis said. "I know it means a great deal to us all. We shall be dining soon, and I do not believe the Harpers would object if you joined us."

"Indeed," Dermin spoke. "Please, Captain, you are most welcome. I should greatly enjoy hearing any tales you might have to tell about the Flaming Fist."

"I'm sure," Merion replied. "But I'm afraid I need to decline—some mates of mine are expecting me at the tavern. I'll be waiting for you tomorrow at the palace gates."

..........

He bowed and took his leave, and the Harpers showed him to the door. Imoen pushed up her sleeves.

"I suppose that's my cue to get the apron on. Are you still going out?" she asked Finn.

"No reason why not," he replied, looking at Anna. "We can meet up with you lot in the morning."

"In the morning?" Xan repeated. "Where are you going?"

"Me and Anna are going courting," Finn replied, his mouth curling into a grin.

Anna could feel a jolt go through Ajantis even from the other side of the room, and her face turned bright red.

"Perhaps we should...wait," she muttered.

"Why?" Finn asked. "The room's paid for. It'll be alright, the stewards will make sure we're up in time."

"We? What is the meaning of this?" Ajantis demanded. "Where are you taking this lady?"

"What's it matter to you?" he replied. "We're going out, that's all you need to know."

"Somewhere that you do not plan to return until morning? A room, at an inn?" the knight said, his tone rising as the import hit him. "What disgraceful—absolutely not. I forbid it!"

_"You_ forbid?" Finn began, but Anna interrupted him.

"It's all right," she said quickly. "Finn was kind enough to rent me a private room at a respectable inn, that's all. He has a separate room, he'll be there to watch over me. It's all right."

"And what wicked thought put this generous act in his mind, I wonder?" Ajantis exclaimed. "It is shameful, and I will not allow it."

..........

His cheeks were now red as Anna's. Finn's scowl grew darker and Imoen stared at them both, a sick look on her face. Xan stepped back slightly but Kivan spoke.

"Calm yourself, _mellonamin. _It is not for you to allow this or no_. _If the lady has decided, it is her choice."

"And I do not know what the custom is amongst the elves, but in my land a man would not allow a rogue to defile a lady without so much as a blink of the eye," Ajantis replied angrily.

"Yet you would send a woman to rot in prison, if she ceased to love the husband her family chose for her," Xan said unexpectedly. "Your sense of honour does not impress me. Kivan is right, you have no say here. I trust Anna is wise enough to make her own decisions."

His 'trust' was somewhat dry but he folded his arms and looked levelly at the knight. Ajantis looked startled; it seemed like he couldn't decide where to fix his glare and it ran between Finn, the elves and Anna. At that moment the Harpers walked back into the room, and Dermin stared at the tense group.

"What is happening here?" he asked.

"Nothing," Imoen said. "Just the usual love triangles."

She turned and stormed pointedly up the stairs. It seemed to break the spell and Ajantis deflated.

"Go to her, won't you?" Anna said.

She gave him an imploring look. Ajantis stared back, then slowly nodded. He set off up the stairs without a word.

"Well, that was fun," Finn said, letting out a breath. "Come on, let's get out of here before your loyal protector changes his mind."

Anna felt torn in two; part of her was too embarrassed to leave, but the other half was too embarrassed to stay. She picked up her bag and followed after Finn with barely a nod to anyone.


	66. One Night In

Anna took Finn's arm and they hurried along in silence. Once she glanced up at him; his face wore an irritated expression but whatever he was thinking he kept it to himself.

The evening stars were peppering the sky by the time they entered the Helm and Cloak. Anna looked around cautiously, half-expecting to see Anchev sitting at a corner table, but there was no one she recognised among the well-dressed clientele. She smoothed down her hair and approached the man behind the bar, thankful at least that it wasn't the frosty woman from the night before.

"Good evening, my man. I would like a light supper brought up to the Delainis rooms," Anna said, trying to sound formal. "A pie, cold meats, and savoury pastries to start, and a dish of chicken and rice. And a fruit tart, with custard. I will take Arabellan wine...and a pitcher of your house ale, for my servant," she added with a flush.

The man though merely looked at her.

"Madam?"

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

_"Er, _it's the Whitehaven rooms, my lady," Finn said, leaning over her shoulder.

Anna's cheeks grew hotter under the manservant's arching brow, but he merely sighed.

"Yes, of course—Lady Whitehaven and her...man. I shall see your order brought to you with all haste, my lady. I shall ring for a boy to carry up your luggage, as well."

"Oh, no need," Anna said quickly, reaching out as his hand went for the bell. "My...servant has already seen to it."

She could hardly believe she'd told such a hopeless lie, and the man tried to hide a smirk.

"Of course," he said. He leaned over the bar and spoke quietly. "Do not concern yourself, my lady—the Helm prides itself on our _discretion."_

"Very good, then," Anna said, trying to keep from melting into the floor.

She daintily lifted her skirts and made her way up the stairs, ignoring Finn's quiet chuckling behind her.

............

Her embarrassment faded though when Finn drew open the door; his brief description hadn't done the room justice. Rich dark wood was everywhere, from the elaborately carved panelling on the walls to the heavy posts of the bed, and its polish gleamed in the light of the crackling fire. In the centre lay a remarkable rug of woven silk, its bright colours depicting a royal feast under the trees. A dark red counterpane covered the plush-looking bed and its plumped pillows.

"Finn—a queen could stay here," Anna remarked, running a hand over the smooth mahogany of a chair.

"I know. It's not quite good enough for you, but it's the best they had," he replied.

She smiled gently and he beamed back at her.

"Thank you for this though," she said. "It's—beautiful."

"No problem," he replied, grinning. "Mine's not too shabby either. Here, have a look at this!"

He hurried over to a tall bookcase and set his key into the wall. Anna laughed as the case opened wide, revealing itself as a door.

"That is clever," she said.

"Yeah, it's all carved," he said, knocking his fist against it. "Solid wood, no books at all. You'd never guess, would you?"

"I hope they all don't lead somewhere mysterious," Anna replied, running her hand over some real leather tomes on the opposite wall.

"You never know," Finn laughed.

He retreated into his room. Anna came and watched around the corner as he laid his packages on the bed. Though his chamber was small and plain compared to its neighbour it looked comfortable in its own right.

"I should be pretty snug in here," Finn said, reading her thoughts. "It's a long sight better than bunking up with Ajantis, that's for sure."

Anna's face fell at the mention.

"Yes. I'm...sorry about that. I don't know why he—"

"Well, I do," Finn interrupted.

"You do?" she hesitated.

"Yeah. I used to see it all the time back at the keep with the Amnish nobles—they could do any twisted thing they liked with a lady behind closed doors, but in public they'd act proper as can be. It's all for show."

"Oh. Well," she began, feeling somewhat relieved by his conclusions.

"That, and it's pretty obvious he fancies you."

Anna turned away from his sharp look.

"I don't know." It wasn't a lie, for she honestly didn't.

"And I'm a man, pet—trust me, he does," Finn said flatly.

Anna had nothing to say and she stared at the carpet.

"But don't worry, I'm not blaming you or anything," he said.

Finn came and wrapped his arms around her, brushing his lips against her cheek. Anna rested her head against his chest, glad she didn't need to look up at him.

"You don't...feel anything back, do you?" he said.

"I—no," Anna replied, feeling startled.

"You don't sound too sure."

Finn pulled back and looked her in the eyes. His gaze was level and serious.

"No," she said, her mouth dry. "No, I don't."

"Good."

Though he spoke quietly Anna could hear relief in his voice. He bent down to kiss her. She drew in his embrace but her thoughts kept turning to the kiss in the garden. Ajantis' had been dry, hesitant; Finn's was anything but. She felt the caress of his tongue, it was meaningful, searching. It was a kiss that wanted more. Ajantis' didn't. At that moment Anna knew he didn't love her, no matter what Finn said. And as his kiss grew deeper she knew which one she wanted.

............

A knock on her chamber door pulled them apart.

"Food," Finn said. "Gods, I'm starving!"

He drew away from her and eagerly went to open the door. Anna didn't feel a slight though for her own stomach was rumbling irritably.

She walked back into the chamber to see several liveried men drawing the table into the centre of the room. With a military precision they draped a pair of brocade cloths onto the wood before laying down an elaborate silver place setting. Platters of meat and pastries and a tower of fruit appeared like magic, and a young boy set a salt cellar and a small bowl of rosewater at the plates' side. A man drew out a chair and brushed it several times with his cloth before bowing and gesturing for Anna to sit down.

"Thank you, but there's only one setting," she said, without thinking.

"Forgive me, madam," the man said. "We were told the lady was dining alone?"

He looked at Finn but seemed to pay him little heed. Finn said nothing, but glanced at Anna with a twinkling eye. She felt that flush rising up again but she pushed it back down.

"No, we shall require two places."

The man seemed surprised but quickly bowed and gestured to the boy, who disappeared with a barely-concealed grin.

"Shall you...be requiring our services at table then, my lady?" the man asked.

"No thank you," Anna replied.

She stood stiffly and didn't dare turn around, fearing her reaction from the look that was no doubt on Finn's face. Thankfully the boy returned in short order with the extra setting and the servants bowed and made their retreat.

"Dining with the help, me lady?" Finn chirped when the door closed. _"Tsk tsk. _Whatever next?"

"Would you prefer to wait on me?" Anna replied airily.

"Hey—you want servicing, all you need is to ask."

"Let's just eat, shall we?" Anna coughed, trying to ignore his look.

Finn laughed and sat down to the feast. They spoke little while they ate, but Anna felt happy with the warm silence. The fire crackled pleasantly and sent its soft light flickering with the candles over the table. It washed over Finn's face, making him look brighter than he had of late. The warm spiciness of the wine began to take her and she felt tensions she didn't even know she had begin to melt away.

............

"That's nice," Finn said quietly.

He took up the last bit of fruit tart, though the remark seemed to have a broader focus than the pastry. Anna smiled and leaned back in her chair.

"It's lovely here. I wish we could always be this quiet."

_"Mm," _Finn said. "Though it's a bit too formal for my liking. I guess I'm more of a below-stairs kind of fellow."

"Then you never dreamed of taking all your gold and building a castle or two? Becoming lord of the manor?" Anna said.

She leaned her elbow on the table and gave him a grin.

"Castle? Nah, too draughty. I like to keep my toes warm. Besides, we're hardly that well-off."

"We should be, considering all we've done," she said thoughtfully.

"I know," Finn said. He stretched his arms out with a groan. "If I had a gold piece for every scar I've earned I could buy the whole bloody coast by now."

"You're right," Anna sighed.

She caressed her hands. The dim light hid most of the scars from view, but some were painfully visible. She'd always been proud of her hands; though they were capable they were still fine and delicate. They worked hard in the day but every night she'd rubbed a beeswax salve into her skin, keeping them soft as any lady's. Now though they were hard and rough, bearing marks that would never heal.

Finn reached over and covered her hands with one of his. Anna took it in hers, letting her fingers run softly over his skin. It was paler than his face, kept as it was from the sun in his gauntlets. His hand was wide and strong though, a hand that was no stranger to work. Looking at it she understood why Gorion set him to so many tasks, even if the end result was something other than he desired. Somehow, that hand needed to be strong. She laced her fingers with his and Finn squeezed them tight.

"Your hands are cold," he said.

"I know. They always are," Anna replied.

She slipped her hands away from him and tucked them in her sleeves.

"I can do better than that," Finn smiled.

He moved his chair closer to her then took her hands, placing them palm-down on his lap. He settled his over her own and began rubbing them softly. It had the intended effect but Anna drew away from him with a breath.

"Too much?" he said.

"A bit," she replied.

"Alright. I meant what I said before, though. This is your room. I can be wherever you want me to be."

Anna smiled, and squeezed his hands again.

"Thank you."

............

Finn cleared his throat.

"I don't think I've ever said you needed to, have I?"

She looked up at him, surprised.

"Well, no. But you haven't exactly been shy about hinting."

"But that's not really the same," he said.

"No. I suppose not."

Anna leaned back in her chair and Finn kept looking at the table.

"I just...you made me feel like I'd done something wrong," he said. "It's almost like...I didn't care for it, let's leave it at that."

"But you didn't—" she began earnestly.

"No. I know. That isn't really what I mean," Finn sighed. "It's just hard to put into words. I don't know why I brought it up. No need to spoil our nice night, eh?"

He topped off Anna's goblet of wine and poured himself another tankard of ale.

"You're right though," she said quietly. "We should talk about it."

"I think I've said everything I need to," Finn replied, taking a drink.

Anna smiled a little. "I suppose. I don't know, either. I suppose I thought...it was what you wanted."

"And what did you want?" he said, his tone rising slightly. "I know you're kind of new to this, but it helps if you're interested too. I didn't expect you to..."

"But you did," she interrupted. "There's no point denying that."

"I'm not trying to deny what I wanted. I just can't figure why you'd lay with me if you didn't want it, too. I'm not some bloody Northlander who knocks a woman over the head and drags her back to his hut. If you said no, I'd live with it."

"But would you?" Anna flashed. "Since we've met you've had two women, that I know of, and you're always talking about your conquests back home. You didn't force me to do anything but the writing was plain as day. If you didn't get what you wanted with me, you'd find it somewhere else. You've already shown me that, and you have the nerve to ask why I don't trust you?"

Finn looked surprised, then irritated.

"Two women? Who's the other?"

"That girl in Nashkel," she said, folding her arms. "Or have you forgotten about her already?"

He let out a short laugh. "The girl at the party? We were just messing around behind the woodshed. Nothing happened. I tried telling you that before, as I recall, but you weren't having it."

Anna tossed her head. "It doesn't matter. That you went off with her at all is what bothers me."

"Why?" Finn demanded. "We'd just freed the mines. Everyone was calling us heroes. And after everything I'd been through I needed to let loose a bit—I had a right to. I could've gone all the way, that girl was up for it. But I didn't. And you know why? Because in the middle of all that drunken snogging I thought about you. I fancied you, and I didn't want to ruin my chances. But seeing the way you looked at me afterwards I reckoned I was wasting my time."

"Could you blame me?" Anna exclaimed.

"I suppose not," Finn admitted. "But you never gave me a chance."

"It was somewhat difficult to forget about, with Safana in your lap," she said coolly.

His face twisted. "All right. You made your point. But the fact is, you'd already made up your mind on me before we even met her. Fair enough, I didn't exactly help. If I could go back and knock some sense into myself I would, but I can't. I'm here now, and you can either forgive me or not. But you can't keep throwing it in my face. It's one or the other. What's it going to be?"

...........

Anna jerked and turned her eyes away from him.

"I'm not a knight. I mess things up, and I know it," Finn continued. "That's why I need you to help me, not just give me the cold shoulder. Tell me what I need to do and I'll do it."

She looked into his earnest eyes and sighed.

"I don't want to tell you what to do," she said. "Some things, you just ought to know. You hurt me this morning. How could you think you'd done otherwise? You just...dismissed me, like I was nothing. Why should I need to tell you that? If you don't know...I can't help you."

"Yeah," he said quietly.

They were silent for a moment, then Finn took her hands.

"I am sorry."

"I know," she sighed.

"I never have been much use at keeping my temper," he said. "I guess I've learned it's better just for me to get away and cool down before I do something stupid. Though I suppose it means I end up running away from problems more often than not."

"You shouldn't need to do that," Anna said.

"You're right. It's just...I get this blackness sometimes. I don't know where it comes from, but when it's up it's like I can't see. I can't think straight. Or maybe I think too clearly—that's more worrying still."

Anna glanced at him, thinking his face looked strange.

"What do you mean?"

Finn shook his head. "I don't know. It's nothing, I guess. Everything just gets more focused somehow, like things coming up at you out of a fog. All around is a blur, but that one thing you see clear as if it were in bright sunshine. Could be anything—a sword, a person, anything."

He looked thoughtful again but Anna shrugged off his musings.

"Everyone has a temper, Finn. Do you think I don't want to spit fire at times? I do, but I just learned to control it."

"I don't know. I've seen you pretty riled up—I wouldn't want to be in your way then, dragon lady."

Finn smiled at her but Anna gave him a look.

"Just—don't give in to it. Think about what you're doing," she said. "You can control your temper. You're just letting it run away with you."

"I suppose so," he said, but somehow she thought he didn't look convinced.

There was another silent moment. Anna kept her eyes from Finn but she felt keenly aware of him somehow, like a fire burning in a cold room. At last she sighed and spoke.

"I think I might ring and have them take the plates away. I'd like to have a bath."

"Alright, then." Finn rose up slowly from the table. "But is it...alright?"

She looked up at him. Seeing his face though she smiled.

"Yes, it is."

Finn brightened and she shut her eyes as he laid a kiss on her forehead.

...........

Anna stretched out and leaned back in the tub. A layer of muslin covered the wood, making it feel more comfortable than the usual prickliness. The fire kept the water warm and quickly dried her skin wherever it touched the air.

She dipped the sponge in the water and let it trail down her arm. Thankfully the stewards had moved aside the rich rug and replaced it with a simpler woollen one, saving her the fear of ruining it or the inlaid floor. She picked up the rose-scented soap that had been moulded into the shape of a shell, admiring its detail for a moment as if it were an artisan's work.

She glanced over at the silk bathing screen. It was painted in an unusual style, with pictures of tall wading birds and strange trees. Though everything seemed elongated she found it attractive, but part of her wondered how transparent it was with the fire behind. Finn had offered to retreat to his room while she bathed, but she said it wasn't necessary. The towels weren't within easy reach and she'd have to get out of the tub to fetch one. Anna rose up stealthily as a thief in the night, but if her exit caused a stir she didn't hear it.

She dried quickly by the fire and slipped into her new shift. The stewards presented her with a silken robe as part of her toilet and she wrapped it over the cotton. The silk would feel like heaven next to her bare skin, but with Finn there she erred on the side of propriety.

............

Stepping out from behind the screen she saw him sitting at the table, hunched over a book in the fading candlelight.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

_"Volothamp Geddarm's Guide to the Sword Coast," _Finn said. "I must've read this book a dozen times back home, but now I ask myself—has he even set foot here?"

Anna chuckled. "I suppose Volo's guides are more inclined towards local colour than accuracy."

"If it's local colour he wants, I'll write him the bleeding sequel," he remarked.

"I was thinking today that I've lived here for almost ten years," she said, sitting down. "Yet before this summer I hadn't seen much more of the coast than what borders the tradeway. My father used to go on expeditions but he'd rarely let me go with him."

"Your father was an adventurer?" Finn asked, surprised.

"Hardly that," Anna laughed. "He never liked being away from his books, but sometimes his research demanded it."

"Armchair adventurers," he smiled. "Most of the monks were like that."

"He used to drive me mad at times—papers and books everywhere, not to mention the strange artefacts he'd dig up in odd places. Some of them gave me the chills. Thankfully Thalantyr took most of them off my hands when Father died."

"Who's that?"

"He's a wizard that Father worked for sometimes. He lives some miles outside of Beregost. A financial backer, you might say. He gave Father gold to hire guards and labourers in return for any arcane objects he might come across in his research. Thalantyr is a classically reclusive mage—living alone in his remote tower, surrounded by trinkets mysterious and magical," she said lightly.

"Sounds like a great chap," Finn laughed.

"Oh, yes," Anna said, rolling her eyes. "I hated visiting High Hedge—Thalantyr keeps golems as servants, and I never could stand their eyes. So lifeless, but always watching."

_"Hm. _I'd rather keep you away from golems in the future," he frowned.

Anna gently touched her hair, thinking much the same.

...........

"Did you never do any travelling on the coast?" she asked to change the subject.

"Never even to Beregost," Finn said. "I must've begged Gorion I don't know how many times to let me go somewhere, anywhere. I would've come back—all I wanted to do was see a proper town. But caravans would stop in a few times a year to trade supplies, and when I was about sixteen I decided I'd had enough and stowed away in a wagon."

"What happened then?" she asked.

"They found me before we got to the crossroads. I said I had coin but they put me off anyway. The captain said if I had to sneak away then I weren't old enough to travel," he chuckled slightly. "I reckon he was right. They gave me a bite to eat, and away they went. I stood there though for the longest time, just watching the empty road. I kept telling myself that I was going to head off anyway, caravaners be damned. But in the end I turned around and walked all the way back home."

"Gorion can't have been pleased."

"I spent the night out under the trees, pissing myself every time an owl hooted, wondering if I'd get eaten before I froze or starved to death," Finn chuckled. "By the time I made it home next morning I was sure Gorion would nail my hide to the stable doors. He looked pretty shaken up, but more than anything he just seemed...disappointed. I could handle him whipping me, but that was too much. But in the end I think it finally got me in the guards. I suppose he realised that if he didn't let go a bit, I'd just do it again. And maybe that time I wouldn't come back."

Anna sighed. "I sometimes think parents are too strict more out of fear than coldness. Though it must be hard for a child to understand the difference."

"If that's true then Gorion must've been the most cowardly man on Toril," Finn remarked. "Did his parents never let him out of the house when he was a lad?"

"You grew up in Candlekeep though. That must've been a world in itself. All those books—I can't imagine," she said wistfully.

"Books can't be your mates, though," he said. "I wanted real friends. I wanted to see life. And you don't think they let some little hellion run loose in the library, do you? They watched me like a hawk any time I was in there."

"Well, you're not there anymore," Anna said quietly.

"True enough. And for all our troubles, I think I'm happier here."

............

Finn leaned forward and kissed her. Anna began to agree with his assessment, but she slowly drew back from him.

"It's late," she said quietly.

"I guess it is. Would you mind if I took a bath first, though?" Finn said. "I don't want to stink up the palace tomorrow."

"Of course."

Finn gave her a quick peck and went to change behind the screen. His head easily rose over the top of it and he grinned when he saw her looking.

"Hey, no peeking. A fellow's got his modesty to think about."

Anna laughed and looked away, her cheeks pinking as she realised how transparent the screen actually was. Once he got in the bath though she ventured another glance. Watching his silhouette move her heart began to do that strange leaping flutter. They were alone together. No one else was there. She tried to quiet her thoughts, tried to push them away. But slowly, she began to realise that she didn't want to.

Silently she rose from the chair and pulled her hairbrush from her bag. She sat on the softness of the bed and started to take down her hair. Very slowly she ran her brush through the length of it, feeling its silkiness under her hand as she listened to the faint splashes coming from behind the screen. Anna kept brushing until she heard Finn rise from the bath. Her wrist trembled slightly. She set the brush onto the bed, but quickly picked it up again.

Finn came and stood before her, rubbing his hair with a towel. He had his trousers on but not his tunic, and Anna kept her eyes on the floor.

"Mind if I borrow that?" he asked.

She glanced up quickly, almost not realising what he meant. She flushed though and handed him her brush. He smoothed his wet hair and gave it back to her, and she set it gingerly on the bed.

"Do you want me to ring and have them clear the tub away?" Finn asked.

"No...it can wait till morning."

"Alright."

He leaned down to give her a kiss. Anna caught his shoulders, lightly pulling him closer to her. She felt the wetness of his hair against her cheek though and stifled a laugh.

"What is it?" he said.

"Nothing. Just...you smell like a girl."

She laughed again and Finn gave her a mock-scowl.

"Ah, cheers. Don't worry—give me a few days and I'll smell all nice and manly again."

Anna wiped her lips and smiled up at him. He smiled back and looked for a moment like he might sit down, but he straightened back up.

..........

"Well—good night."

The words filled her with alarm somehow, and she rose to her feet. Finn looked surprised but his hands reached for her waist. Anna leaned against his shoulders and he pulled her close, but said nothing. She wrapped her arms around his warm body, waiting for his touch, but it didn't come. At last she gathered her courage, and whispered into his neck.

_"Stay."_

Finn's body moved, but he remained silent. Anna repeated the request and he drew back from her.

"I don't know if I should," he said quietly.

"Why?" she murmured, trying to ignore her flaming cheeks.

"Because I don't know what you'll be like in the morning. I don't want to mess this up again."

Anna looked down, and slowly she nodded.

"I know. But I want you to stay." She ran her hands lightly over his chest. "It's all right, Finn...I want this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She smiled at him, a trembling smile, but it was warm. Finn looked her over. Anna could see the hesitation in his eyes, but something else was stronger. He pressed his mouth against hers. The heat of it made her draw breath but she didn't pull away. His hands found the sash of her robe and he slid the silk from her shoulders, down onto the floor. She caught her breath again as her shift followed, leaving her bare body pressed up against his skin.

Anna slowly lay down across the bed and Finn pulled himself over her. He wrapped his hands in her long, loose hair, kissing and tasting it as if it were like honey. Her hands caressed his shoulders as his kisses moved down her body, down her breasts to her navel. The heat of his lips conflicted with the cool wetness of his hair and she shuddered. Her gasps turned deeper as his hand slipped further down, but his lips met hers and he swallowed them in his kiss.

............

Anna awoke to a faint grey light. The fire was in embers but the soft illumination of earliest day shone around the heavy curtains. Still as she could she turned to the warmth sleeping next to her. Finn's head rested on the embroidered pillowcase, his breathing deep and slow. She let her eyes take in his face, the strong shoulders barely hidden by the coverlet.

The emotion of last night came to her, dim now like the fire's ashes. They'd lain together after their lovemaking, exhausted, still, watching the fire grow low. Anna rested with her head on Finn's chest, feeling his heartbeat against her skin as he softly traced a line down her arm with his fingertips. She thought of all these things, still trying to process that it was actually her who felt them. She felt no unease though, just a strange calmness.

She inched herself closer to Finn but her stirring broke him from his sleep. His eyes opened and he stretched out, wrapping an arm around her.

"What hour is it?" he asked, his voice thick.

"I don't know," she replied quietly. "I haven't heard the bells."

Finn groaned.

"We'll have to be up before long," he said.

"Yes."

She caressed his arm delicately but Finn shifted his head to see her, as best he could in the faint light.

"How are you?"

"Fine," Anna smiled.

"Really?"

"Yes."

She fell silent, running her hand thoughtfully over his arm. Finn pulled her closer.

"It's just, I don't want you to feel guilty that we went to bed together. You shouldn't have to."

Anna glanced at him, surprised.

"I'm not," she said slowly. "It'll just...take some getting used to. Everything else has changed, I suppose, so why not this too."

..........

He squeezed her tight but said nothing more. He shut his eyes and his breathing grew deeper again. Anna lay still in the darkness, wishing sleep would come as easily back to her. She started though at the sound of Finn's voice.

"That's not what I meant," he said. "I was thinking last night. I don't want you to feel guilty about anything. But I want us to be together as well. So I thought, why not?"

"Why not what?" Anna asked.

Finn propped himself up on his elbow.

"I mean...why not get married."

Anna stared at him, searching his face in the thin light for any trace of humour. Apart from the nervous-looking smile though she saw none.

"Would you marry me, Anna?" he repeated. "I know I'm not on bended knee here, but—"

He took her hand in his but she still stared at him.

"Finn, you—are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. I'd never say something like that as a joke, not if I wanted to keep my manhood. I mean it. Marry me."

"I—you don't need to do this," she stammered. "I'm not with child. I just—"

"That doesn't matter," he interrupted. "I thought about everything you said yesterday, about life being torn up and wrong and I thought—I feel that too. Nothing's ever going to be the same for me. I can't go home now, but to tell the truth...I don't want to. Out of all this hell I found something good. I want to hold on to that." He spoke quietly, running a hand over her tangled hair. "You've gone through so much because of me, and you're still here. I want to make it up to you. I know it won't be easy, but we could make it work. What do you say?"

"Finn, I—I don't know what to say...what you said before..." she said, trying to force out the words.

"About what?"

"You mentioned marriage. But you sounded so cold about it."

Finn shook his head. "Maybe. But I didn't mean it. I've thought about this now, and I want it. I want us to be together. Properly."

Anna looked down at their hands. She wanted to speak but she couldn't, her voice frozen somewhere in her throat.

"You don't need to..." she began again.

"I want to."

"Where would we..."

"Anywhere you want."

"You don't know what I was asking," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Well, the answer's still the same. What about you?"

Anna smiled. She felt her face burning like never before but she managed to look into Finn's eyes.

"Yes."

His face melted into a wide smile.

_"Fantastic."_

They both burst out laughing. Finn covered her face with kisses and pulled her down onto the bed, but Anna weighed his touch against the growing daylight.

"It's morning...someone might hear," she breathed.

_"Ha! _I hope they do," Finn laughed. "Why, do you care?"

"No," she replied, trying to sound demure.

"That's my lady!" he laughed again, and Anna tried to restrain her own laughter in his kisses.


	67. The Den

They still managed to find their way out of bed before the steward's call. Anna was glad the water pitcher was full, sparing her from having to face the maid with tousled hair and a tousled bed. But then she really didn't care if half of Baldur's Gate walked in on them dressing; they were getting married, and she fought hard against the urge to run down and tell everyone in the street.

Finn retreated to the small chamber and Anna busied herself with plaiting her hair, wrestling as best she could with the long tangled mass that seemed to want anything that morning but order. A fair number of hairs fell in battle with her comb before she finally managed a feeble victory. She felt more pleased though admiring Finn's necklace; the green stones curved along her bare neckline, perfectly complementing the autumn brown of the dress. The earrings felt conspicuous as they bobbed at every little turn of her head, but she felt a quiet pleasure in having an excuse to wear them. Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye she turned from the glass and her mouth fell open in surprise.

Standing in Finn's place was a gentleman. He had Finn's face and that same sheepish grin he wore at times, but the travel-stained jerkin had been replaced by a fine jacket of dark blue suede. His shirt was a rich silk and he even sported a silver-trimmed sword belt that for once showed off the quality of the enchanted blade. Everything he wore was new and fine, from his cap down to his polished boots. Anna kept staring and he began to look self-conscious.

"What do you think? Do I look enough of a tit?" he said.

"Finn, you look—wonderful!" she replied, a smile spreading over her face. "I can't believe it. Where did you get those clothes?"

"Some fancy lad's shop. I said they were for my master, who coincidentally enough had exactly my measurements. Don't think I fooled them much, but they took my coin. Does it really look alright?"

He fidgeted with the cap, which mercifully possessed a shorter feather than the one paraded by the Elfsong's fashionable bard.

"Yes, it's wonderful. But why did you lie?"

She went up to him and ran her fingers over the soft suede and velvet of his jacket.

"If you'd seen the way they looked at me when I walked in you wouldn't ask," he snorted. "I think they thought I was there to clean the windows."

Anna laughed. "Well, you shouldn't have that problem anymore. You could pass as a nobleman."

"Oh, aye—I'm a prince till I open my mouth. Ah, well. Just gives me an excuse to keep my big gob shut."

He grinned at her and Anna laughed again.

"Well, I think you look marvellous," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his nose.

_"Hm, _you seem a bit too keen," Finn said. "Makes me wonder just how rough I looked before."

"Not bad, for a window cleaner," she quipped.

_"Oi,_ you."

He leaned in and nipped at her ear, causing Anna to laugh harder.

"You ready, missus?" he said, kissing her neck.

"Almost."

She flushed pink at the title and hurried off to pack her few items back into her bag. Finn leaned up against the door frame, watching her.

"What is that going to make you when we're married, then?" he asked. "I haven't got a family name to give you, and Missus Finnigan makes you sound like a fishwife."

"I could always take up a new line of work," she proclaimed. "_Fish! Fresh fish! Get yer cod 'ere!"_

"Smoke me a kipper, then! I could use some breakfast," he laughed back. "I could always take your name. Master Delainis—or is it Whitehaven? We'll need to get that sorted next time we take a room. Save some red cheeks."

Anna turned and gave him the sternest look she could manage.

"You should talk. You don't even know your future wife's name."

"It's not my fault you've got two!" Finn protested. "That's two more than some of us. It's just greed, lady, plain and simple."

"Well, then—why don't you just call me Lady Anna of Candlekeep," she said airily. "That sounds impressive. Lady Anna and her husband, Master Finn, the fishmonger. Or is it window cleaner?"

Finn took his revenge for the slight by grabbing her and mercilessly tickling her waist. Her stays spared her most of the assault but she was nearly on the floor with laughter by the time she broke free.

_"Oh, stop!" _she breathed. "I'll have to brush my hair all over again!"

"Don't worry," Finn said. "I'll just whisper to everyone that I've been violating you in the broom cupboard."

"Don't you dare," she replied quickly, before looking into his laughing eyes.

Finn chuckled and took her face in his hands.

"You're beautiful," he said, giving her a kiss. "But we should probably get going. What do you say on staying here another night, though?"

"I don't know," Anna said, her cheeks growing pink again. "I don't think we'd be able to hide that we've...besides, this room must cost a fortune."

"I don't care, and it doesn't matter," he said. "Do you want to?"

"If you want to, then," she said, smiling. "I suppose we're hardly fooling anyone as it is."

"To be honest, I'd rather stay," Finn said, his own smile fading. "I don't much fancy being in that house anymore."

"Because of...Ajantis?" she asked hesitantly.

"He doesn't help," Finn admitted. "But it's that Dermin. I feel like he's watching me, and I can't figure why."

"I think he's watching us all," Anna sighed. "He reminds me of Xan in some ways—he never seems like he's paying any mind, but somehow you know he is. But Dermin's a Harper though, and old friend of Khalid and Jaheira's. I'm sure he's nothing to worry about."

Finn frowned. "Maybe. But I've never felt like I needed to look over my shoulder to see if Xan was watching me. This is different. Maybe it's just because he seemed so keen on asking about Gorion. I always get a bit tetchy whenever anyone mentions him. Dermin's supposed to have known him—why ask me so many questions?"

"What does he ask?"

"Things about Gorion's studies, things about Candlekeep. And he was awful keen to hear where Gorion picked me up."

"It's understandable, I suppose," Anna remarked. "Perhaps he just lost contact with Gorion over the years."

"I reckon. Well, if you're ready?"

............

They left in a rather sober mood. Finn managed to secure the room for another night, though not without an eyebrow or two raised at his sudden transformation. They left their spare things at the bar then set out into the city.

The morning was fair but cool, and Anna kept one hand on her cloak and the other on Finn's arm. His mood seemed to improve and he smiled brightly at her, a look she could easily return. He bent down to kiss her more than once on their dash to the palace, sending happy thrills through her body. Perhaps it was only her own radiance but every face that regarded them seemed to be smiling along as if they'd heard the news. She stepped lightly and drew in a deep, satisfied breath, thanking Chauntea for the bright morning.

They ducked through the streets and before long the pennants atop the palace were wavering above their heads. Despite its name the Ducal Palace functioned less as a residence and more of a centre of government. Anna heard that none of the Dukes actually dwelled there, preferring instead to live in their own comfortable villas—a decision she could easily understand regarding the cold stone and narrow windows of the tower. Due to its location in the heart of the city there was little room for gardens and a stern wall bordered the tower where flowers ought to be.

She noticed their group waiting by the walls and loosened her grip on Finn's arm. She could sense their tension and her mood fell as they approached the impatient-looking band.

"Sorry," Finn said. "Are you waiting on us?"

"Yes, as it happens," Ajantis replied, eyeing the pair with a cool look. "Merion has just gone in to confirm our arrangements."

He glanced at Anna and she felt an unpleasant feeling turn in her stomach. Imoen stepped forward though, sparing her the need to talk with him.

"Look at you, Mister Fancy-Pants," she exclaimed to Finn. "You'd almost pass for decent."

She gave her brother a grin and Anna thought she looked much more cheerful than the night before.

"Imagine that, eh?" he replied, adjusting his cap. "Where are the Harpers? Are they here?"

Anna had noticed that Dermin and Hecan were nowhere to be seen. Imoen shook her head.

"No, they're both out doing their own thing. Business, I suppose."

"Good," Finn said under his breath.

In spite of the setting Anna felt nearly bursting with their news, but there was no time for further conversation as Captain Merion stepped through the gates.

"Morning," he said to the latecomers. "Are we all here then? Well...let's go in and be about this, shall we?"

Though he spoke cheerfully Anna thought she saw a twitch of nervousness in the scarred face.

"I'm sorry we're late," she said to him. "I hope the Dukes weren't waiting for us."

"No, miss. As it happens, our meeting's been pushed back an hour. But we'd better get in there before they decide to give us the shove once and for all."

"An hour?" Imoen said.

"Aye. It's for the best really, gives us a chance to talk. Come with me—I've got us a place to wait," Merion said.

...........

He waved to the sentries and they let the group pass without question. Stepping under the archway Anna looked around in surprise; for all its exterior barrenness the tower's hall wouldn't have been out of place in the great Castle Obarskyr in Suzail. Every spare foot seemed filled by statues or other relics—jewelled plates of gold, fine tapestries, and remarkable weaponry hung on display for all to see. The carved ceiling was decorated in gold leaf and lapis blue that shone in the light from the enchanted chandeliers.

On the wall opposite the entrance was painted a massive mural depicting the conquests of the great hero, Balduran. On either side of the mural hung two standards, each displaying the coat-of-arms of a Duke.

"This place looks like a dwarf's purse," Kivan remarked, looking around at the finery with a glimmer of contempt.

"Be thankful you have never been to Calimport," Xan sighed. "This palace is a shepherd's hut of modesty by comparison."

"We do like to put on a show, lads," Merion said, throwing the pair an eye. "This way."

He led them up a wide staircase past merchants, clerks and nobles of every description, up to the quieter third floor. Fishing out a key he let them into a small chamber that clearly functioned as an office for some unknown scribe; books lined the walls and on the desk were stacks and stacks of parchment. Imoen reached for one but Merion caught her hand.

"Sorry, young lady. I'm borrowing this place off a friend, and you'd understand if he didn't like you looking at his official business."

"I'm sorry," Imoen said, trying to look innocent as possible.

"No worries. The page will fetch us when they're ready, but in the meantime I think I might fill you in a bit on the Dukes. They're all characters in their own right, and the better you know them, the better our chances of getting them to listen."

"We thank you, Captain, but your words still fill me with concern," Ajantis said. "Do you still expect them to brush us aside?"

"Hopefully not. With Eltan up sick Duke Silvershield has the most weight, and he's always been a proper nobleman. He should hear reason."

"Why hasn't Duke Eltan's son taken his place?" Imoen asked. "Is it because he's at sea?"

"No. Each of the Dukes nominates his successor, but it can't be a relation. The original Dukes were just rich sailors and businessmen, not nobles in their own right, and they didn't want Baldur's Gate to turn into an aristocracy. Eltan never has appointed anyone and given his age it's had a few people worried. If he dies a throne's going to be up for grabs."

"Something that I doubt will help the stability of this region," Xan said.

"Too right, my good elf, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Merion remarked. "Now, Duke Entar Silvershield has the most seniority, as I said. Out of all them he's the only one to be of proper nobility, and it's best to remember that when addressing him. But he's a kind-hearted fellow, some might even say soft-hearted. Favis Belt is the next in line. He's a thorn and a half—sharpest tongue you're likely to find in the Western Heartlands. Made his fortune going places others feared to tread, or at least sending representatives there. Duchess Liia Jannath is the youngest of them, though no less keen because of it. She's a sailor lass—took over her father's merchant shipping company at the tender age of nineteen and turned it into an empire. Along with Duke Silvershield she's an old friend of Eltan's, so bear that in mind."

"And we're supposed to sweet-talk this lot?" Finn said.

"I'll do most of the talking," Merion said. "Just be honest—it's our only weapon here."

Ajantis began to speak with the Captain on some official matter, and Imoen sidled up to Anna and Finn.

"So, how was the room?" she asked.

"Not too bad," Finn replied.

He squeezed Anna's hand and she beamed up at him.

"I guess it must've been good, the way you two are grinning," Imoen said lightly. "Though I don't want to hear any details, thanks!"

"Really? Not even that we're getting married?"

Finn looked ridiculously near to melting like a schoolboy at those words. Anna did no better though and her face took on the air of a brazier. Imoen's reaction didn't help her embarrassment.

_"You're getting married? Oh, gods! When? Where?" _she squealed, giving Anna a giant's hug. "That's so great! I can't believe it. We'll be sisters!"

She hugged Finn in turn and he laughed. Anna glanced over at her comrades, who couldn't have helped but hear Imoen's explosive declaration of the news. Merion seemed bemused, and a warm smile crept over his face. The others though wore expressions that might best be described as blank. It made Anna feel strangely angry, but she ignored them and tried to answer Imoen's list of questions.

"Are you getting married here, or going back to Beregost?" Imoen breathed, hardly pausing for a reply. "Oh, I know! Why not Candlekeep? Winthrop would do up the inn proper nice. He's just an old softie at heart, he'd love to put on your wedding—"

Anna's mouth opened but Finn broke in.

"It's _not _going to be at Candlekeep," he said bluntly.

Imoen looked surprised for a moment, but then nodded.

"I suppose not... Beregost then? _Ooh,_ can I be your handmaiden? I've always wanted to be a handmaiden at a wedding. All the excitement but none of the nerves," she laughed.

"We haven't really talked about it," Anna said, her cheeks turning pink. "But of course you can be my handmaiden."

...........

For some reason she felt shy in the face of Imoen's onslaught. Ajantis' keen glances at her didn't help; they seemed confused, even disapproving. It was a relief when a page finally knocked on the door.

"Excuse me, Captain?" the boy said. "The Dukes are ready for you, sir."

Merion drew a breath and straightened up.

"Right, then. Chin up, folks, and follow my lead. There's nothing at all to worry about. Just mind your manners, and we'll be fine."

He seemed to speak more to himself than the others. Anna's heart jumped suddenly and she found herself wishing she could stay and answer Imoen's nonstop questions instead. But she squeezed Finn's hand and followed the group out of the door.

The page led them down the hall and drew open a set of doors, leading into a small but well-appointed chamber. He announced the group with a bow and departed, leaving them alone with the Dukes. Anna looked them over politely as she could while trying to remember the last time she spoke with anyone of such importance.

On the right sat the Duchess, her hair still bright blonde though her tanned face wore the lines of a life at sea. Her eyes were keen and sharp and she sat alert as a schoolmistress. Next to her sat a balding, robed man whom Anna guessed must be Favis Belt. He raised a pair of spectacles from the chain around his neck and fixed them on his nose, looking at them all as if they had come asking for coin. On his side sat a handsome older man, well-dressed and with a quiet, aristocratic face. Duke Silvershield, he must be. Anna felt surprised though as she regarded the occupant of the chair next to him.

Though he seemed to have past seventy the man had a form that many half his age didn't possess, and despite the grizzled iron hair and beard he looked tall and strong. His face was strangely pale and drawn, but looking at the familiar red jerkin Anna knew there was only one person he could be. Her surprise was nothing though compared to the captain's reaction.

"Commander Eltan?" Merion stammered. "I am pleased to see you well, sir, but I hadn't heard—"

"I didn't realise I needed to advertise getting out of bed," the Duke rumbled. "This is an important meeting, and I wanted to attend."

"Of course, sir. I just meant—"

"At ease, Merion, it's all right," the Duke interrupted, holding up his hand. "I imagine most of the city would be surprised to see me sitting here. I've been up and around for a few days now, but I wanted to get a bit of strength back before resuming my duties."

"Yes, sir," Merion said. "But by damn, it's good to see you!"

The captain looked slightly embarrassed by his outburst, but he seemed too pleased to care. He bowed with a flourish to the Duke. Anna found herself more at ease and curtseyed as the captain introduced them all in turn.

..........

"Now that the pleasantries are over could move on with this business?" Duchess Jannath coughed. "We do have other duties to attend today. My daughter's set to make her first trip up to the lighthouses under her own sail this afternoon."

"Are you mad?" Duke Belt remarked. "You'll lose that child yet, Liia. How old is she? Nine?"

"Thirteen," the Duchess replied flatly. "Telmion is nine."

"Do tell," the Duke shrugged. "Time does fly."

"I would be surprised if you could remember your own children's ages, Favis. I'm not concerned that you can't remember mine," she continued.

"My children are grown, I don't need to remember how old they are. They can keep track of that themselves," Belt quipped back.

"Perhaps we should hear what Captain Merion has to say," Duke Silvershield said quietly. "I doubt we are the only ones with duties to attend."

"Indeed," Duke Eltan said. "Enough of this."

His admonishment silenced the other two. Anna thought he looked uncomfortable somehow sitting in his chair; at his age recovery from a grave illness wouldn't be an easy thing, no matter how hale he was before. Merion opened his mouth to begin, but it closed as the Duke slowly took up a parchment tube that Anna recognised.

"Before you start I should let you in on a few things," Duke Eltan said. "Captain Dosan has been busy working in my place, and he's been passing every piece of information on this iron crisis my way. I have your letters here, and a report that you wouldn't have yet seen."

He held out a scroll, and the captain hesitantly stepped forward to take it.

"You can skip down to the end," the Duke said. "Read it aloud if you like."

The captain unrolled the parchment and read greedily. Anna waited with baited breath, and a moment later she saw his face fall.

_"Despite thorough canvassing the patrols were unable to find any evidence of an active iron mine in the area of Cloakwood so described by the acting commander," _the captain read. _"A flooded cave was discovered by Lieutenant Falas' patrol, but it bore no indications of recent or past mining activity. Interviews with the local Druids likewise were null—none claimed any knowledge of escaped slaves or miners in the area. Bandits had been reported but were slain by the Druids' own hands, and they were not in possession of any ore. We can only conclude that the information the source provided was erroneous."_

"As you can see Captain Dosan had your claims investigated, but nothing was found," Duke Eltan began.

_"Bollocks!" _Finn exclaimed. "That's complete bullshite! Are your lads blind? It was there! We nearly died in that mine, we didn't make it up!"

"Watch your tone, young man, or I'll have you escorted out," Duke Eltan said coldly. "Those patrols were the best we have, and if they could find nothing then there is nothing to find."

"So you're calling us liars, then," Finn growled.

Anna felt like someone had struck her. She grabbed Finn's arm, well wary of the Dukes' frosty looks, and he stepped back. Merion still stood dumbfounded, reading the parchment over and over. The others looked dazed as well but Xan stepped forward and spoke.

"Your Grace, I beg you to forgive my companion's rash words," he said, bowing. "We suffered greatly in that place and the wounds are still fresh. We do not doubt the efficiency of your patrols, but Finn is correct—this mine does exist. On all my honour as a Greycloak and servant of Evereska I give you my word that this is so."

"And we likewise do not doubt your honour, my lord elf, which is why we have agreed to hear your case," Duke Silvershield said. "Captain Merion assures us you are the group that both delivered the Nashkel Mines and defeated the ogre leader, Tazok. We cannot thank you enough for your services, but neither can we go against the facts. The Flaming Fist has found no trace of this mine, and your letters do not provide sufficient evidence against the Iron Throne for us to order their arrest."

"Yes, the evidence seems to point entirely to this Tazok," the Duchess said. "Although we have not yet...determined whether he was acting entirely on his own, there is little to prove the Iron Throne's involvement."

She looked as though she might say more, but thought the better of it.

"If you seek living evidence, then I beg you to speak with Master Jhasso of the Seven Suns," Xan continued earnestly. "I am an enchanter by trade, and I can attest that the man is under deep magical control. If he were liberated he may be able to provide evidence against them."

"Master Jhasso has dropped all claims against the Iron Throne," Duke Eltan said. "Perhaps he is enchanted as you say, but we have no justification for bringing him in to find out. There is no evidence of a crime being enacted upon him and without it we cannot intervene."

.............

"Sir?" Captain Merion said, his face still white with surprise from the report. "Sir, Mistress Jhasso and her husband are old friends of mine. I know something is wrong with him, and Lavinia Jhasso begged me herself to find out what. This fellow says he's enchanted and I believe him. I'm sure Lavinia—"

"The captain is right," Duchess Jannath broke in. "I know the Jhassos myself, and anyone could tell that something wasn't right with Henerick of late. He has eyes like a fish that's been out of water too long. I think it's something to consider, Eltan."

"Cataracts," Duke Belt said. "He can't see what's in front of him. He needs a good healer, that's what. Can't read the fine print anymore. The Seven Suns past its prime years ago—those upstarts at the Manycoins Merchant League had been chipping away at their business before the Iron Throne ever came to town. Maybe the stress finally gotten to him."

"With respect, Favis, I know the Jhassos a fair bit better than you," Jannath continued rather frostily. "Do you really think his wife would be so upset over _cataracts?"_

"My wife has the house in an uproar if she can't find her hairpin," Belt sighed. "Nothing would surprise me. But this is an easy problem to solve—send one of our mind-men over his way. He should be able to tell in short order what's wrong. I don't know why there's been so much hand-wringing over it in the first place."

"We can't be sending enchanters round to everyone in the city who starts to act strangely," Eltan remarked. "Unless this man had shown himself to be a threat, we cannot take action. Mistress Jhasso is of course free to do as she pleases—if she wants to bring in healers, that is a private affair. "

"But Caruthar, don't you feel—" the Duchess began.

"It is none of our affair," the Duke repeated.

The Duchess looked at him in surprise but leaned back in her chair.

"There's too many shadow puppets dancing around here, if you want my opinion," Duke Belt spoke. "Everyone's up in arms about the Iron Throne, and no smoke without fire and all that. I've had a few dealings with them myself and they are some ugly blighters. Maybe we don't have any direct evidence against them, but there's nothing said we can't order an audit. It's in our rights to review the practices of any business operating in the city. I don't know what we'll find, but if they're up to something it might give them a good shaking."

The three Dukes looked at Eltan, and he shifted in his chair.

"When was this last done?" he said.

"Well, it's...almost ten years ago now," Duke Belt began. "Don't you remember? That fishing consortium—they were using magic to increase the weight of their catch so it sold more at market. Drove a fair number of fishermen out of business. Their leaders were executed, we signed their warrants—I can't believe you'd forget a thing like that."

"I have _not _forgotten," Eltan growled. "I only could not recall how long ago it had been. I have been ill, you will remember."

Duke Belt's eyebrow raised, but he fiddled with his spectacle chain and said nothing more. Duke Silvershield sighed.

"I understand the High Duke's reticence," he said. "Applying a heavy-handed approach to business affairs is a sure way to drive even more merchants from our city. The Iron Throne may not be chivalrous in their dealings, but we have little to show that they are actually criminals. However, I am inclined to agree with Duke Belt. There is enough here to merit an investigation, at least."

Duchess Jannath voiced her approval, but Duke Eltan shook his head.

"Rumour is not merit," he replied. "You forget I am commander of the Flaming Fist, and I cannot order my men to seize property without hard evidence. Dosan has already investigated these allegations quite thoroughly and I am satisfied with his results. I see no case against the Iron Throne."

"No case?" Belt said. "You can hardly say that. Your men are good at cooking up false excuses—make up a reason and have a dig through their records. At worst we'll have a steaming consortium on our hands."

"Are you implying the Flaming Fist are not honourable?" Eltan burst out.

"Well, no, I didn't mean that. But—"

"But nothing," Eltan said. "You are asking me to walk a dangerous slope. I am charged with the law enforcement in this city, and I will not bend the rules for the sake of convenience. Merion, I allowed this meeting to find if these people have any new evidence we have not heard. Is there?"

The captain stared at his commander, but jerked suddenly.

"Sir, the only thing is..." he paused, and looked around at the others. "Sarevok Anchev himself approached these people not a few nights ago. He confessed his father's dealings, and asked for their aid in exposing his involvement in the iron affair. I'd be willing to bet if we brought him in he'd open up to us, as well."

Anna felt a ripple go through the Dukes at the news.

"Well, there you are then!" Belt exclaimed. "Call him in, and let's be done with this."

The other Dukes agreed, but Duke Eltan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Why did you not report this, Merion?"

"Sir, I wanted to, but you've been denying all visitors—" the captain stammered.

"Angelo Dosan was appointed to act in my stead. And you cannot have reported it to him, either, or he certainly would have told me."

"Yes. But to tell the truth, sir—I don't trust him. I can't put my finger on it, but he's not been doing what he should," the captain blurted out.

"Oh?" the Duke said, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, sir. He's been giving out strange orders, sending our men on wild goose chases. In fact, I wouldn't even trust that he gave the patrols the right—"

............

"The right what, Captain?"

Anna turned, startled by a voice behind them. She'd been so engrossed in the conversation that she hadn't noticed the door had opened. Her stomach clenched as Dosan strode into the room. He paused long enough to bow to the Dukes, then repeated his question to the pale-looking captain.

"The right coordinates," Merion said bluntly.

He drew a breath and straightened up, looking Dosan directly in the eye.

"Charging an officer with sending out false orders is a serious allegation, Merion," Dosan said. "I hope you can back that up with a bit more than hearsay."

"How's the fact that your boys couldn't find the iron mine?" Finn remarked. "Get us some horses, and I'll take you there right now. Your lies won't stand then."

_"My _lies?" Dosan began, but the High Duke interrupted him.

"Enough. It is clear to me that there has been a series of grave misunderstandings in this case. Young man, I do not doubt that you fought bandits somewhere in Cloakwood, but your story of a hidden mine run by the Iron Throne simply does not hold up to what my patrols have found. We have spent enough valuable manpower chasing this phantom mine, and I do not intend to waste any more. As for Sarevok Anchev, the word of one man means little to me, even if he is at the heart of the Iron Throne. If he has evidence he should have brought it directly to us, not to some adventurers."

"But, Commander—" Merion said.

"I am coming to you, Captain," the Duke said gravely. "I confess I expected better from one with your experience. I have reviewed Dosan's orders, and I believe he served admirably during my illness. I am sorry if you think differently, but there are official channels for such things. Sneaking around behind the organisation's back, conspiring with unknown adventurers, withholding information—Merion, if not for your years of service I would have you in chains right now."

"Sir!" the captain exclaimed. "There's nobody more loyal to the Fist than me. I don't—"

"Your actions seem to suggest otherwise, Captain," Dosan remarked, with just a hint of a sneer. "In fact, your entire moral character is seriously in question. I've heard reports that you've been meeting a married woman in taverns around the city, locking yourselves behind closed doors, for hours sometimes—what's her name? Oh, yes—Lavinia Jhasso. The same Lavinia you courted, years ago?"

"What the _hells _has that got to do with anything?" Merion burst out, his scarred face suddenly turning bright red. "That's all in the past. How can you even say—"

"Poor Telvin—his sweetheart didn't think much of him once an orc took off half his face, did she?" Dosan continued. "She decided an up-and-coming merchant was a better catch. But maybe now she's changed her mind? Getting a bit bored with her old man, so she works up a story to earn your sympathy?"

"Now, see here—" Duchess Jannath began, but her words were cut off as Merion lunged at Dosan.

"You _dare_ talk about her that way?" he bellowed. "A more decent woman never lived! And after all she's been through... You've been watching us? You've been watching _her? _You lying, sneaking, shite—I'll have you!"

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Merion's fist found Dosan's jaw. The Dukes rose to their feet and Anna vaguely heard someone call for the guards. She saw Finn and Ajantis trying vainly to separate the two men, and she and Imoen clutched at each other in horror at the scene.

............

The doors burst open and armed guards broke into the fray. They managed to push the still-swearing captain onto his knees and Dosan fell back. Even as he wiped the blood from his face though Anna thought he looked amused.

"Take Captain Merion to the cells," Duke Eltan said. "He needs some time to cool down."

_"Cool down,"_ Merion croaked. "Cool down? Commander, what's the matter with you? Can't you see what's going on?"

"Take him," Eltan replied, staring at the captain with a cold expression.

The guards lifted the captain to his feet and dragged him from the room. Everyone else seemed frozen, unsure of what to do.

"Dosan, are you all right?" Eltan asked.

"Yes, sir," he said, mopping up the blood with a kerchief. "Don't worry, it's not the worst knock I've taken in my time."

"What was that about?" Jannath demanded. "Were you accusing Lavinia Jhasso of infidelity? That's hardly appropriate!"

"It certainly got his garters in a knot," Belt said. "That was the most excitement I've had in awhile—Relia will love to hear about this."

He retreated to his chair and busied himself with wiping his spectacles.

"I'm not on a moral crusade, Duchess," Dosan said. "But I had those reports, and it's reason enough to suspect the captain's version of events. His heart's in this as much as his head, and that doesn't make for good decisions. I didn't mean to sound crude but I had to see if I could get a response of out him. I never expected him to make quite such a scene though—I apologise."

"Making such accusations and you never expected a dramatic response?" Duke Silvershield said. "I'm surprised he didn't call you out on a duel."

"Regardless, I have seen all I need to for one day," Duke Eltan said. "You people may go. This meeting is over."

He sat back down in his chair with a grunt of pain. The group stood and stared at him.

"But, Your Grace—what of the Iron Throne? What of Sarevok Anchev?" Ajantis said.

His own face was bright red from exertion and he gazed at the Duke blankly.

"Talk to Anchev if you will, but unless he provides hard evidence I have no reason to involve the Flaming Fist," Eltan said. "Now go."

His dismissal seemed to quiet the other Dukes as well, and they all looked at him expectantly.

"Caruthar—should we not cast our votes on the matter?" the Duchess said.

The Duke gave her a rather keen glance but sighed.

"Very well. On the matter of auditing the Iron Throne, what say you?"

"Yea," Belt said, without hesitation.

"Yea," Jannath repeated.

They all looked at Duke Silvershield. He glanced at Eltan, then drew a breath.

"Nay. Not at this time. The evidence is too vague, and with the Captain's allegations..."

Eltan nodded. "Then my vote decides. I say nay. This matter is closed."

............

Anna felt almost like she might collapse, and she wavered on her feet. She felt bruised as if she'd been in the middle of the fight. Finn took her arm and ushered her quickly out of the room. The others followed, with none but Ajantis bothering with a bow.

"What the hells, what the bloody hells," Finn hissed. "These people run a city? They couldn't run a ring-toss booth at a carnival!"

He walked so fast that Anna struggled to keep up with him. She pulled her arm away from his grasp and slackened her pace.

"I am—disgusted," Ajantis remarked, more to himself than anyone.

"Fools," Kivan said. "Their days in power have left them blind."

"And their days will be limited if they continue as such," Xan said. "What more can we do here? Corellon, my work is done. It is not the duty of Evereska to protect them from such idiocy. Let this entire city fall, it does not matter to me."

Anna stared at him. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his mouth was twisted in a strange way.

"You know what, mate—I'm inclined to agree," Finn said. "They won't listen. _Nobody_ will listen. Let's get out of here. I don't want to be around when the dust settles."

He looked back at Anna, reaching for her hand again. She felt a cold feeling in her stomach but she squeezed his hand in turn.

"So you all would just sit back and let the Iron Throne cause a war?" Ajantis said. "Could you live with yourselves knowing how many innocent lives will be sacrificed, when you had the power to stop it? I for one could not, and I shall not. And what of Captain Merion? He is innocent of these charges, and you know this."

"Yeah, but knowing's not going to help, is it? We can't do a damn thing," Finn said. "We tried, and we failed. If you want to get yourself killed fighting for a lost cause, so be it. But we're out of here."

"Where—where are you going?" Imoen said quietly.

"Hells if I know, flower, but we're going there. Come and stay at the inn with us, and we'll talk about it tonight."

They said little else as they hurried back to the house. Anna felt that cold sensation growing. Although she agreed with Finn a part of her doubted they could just walk away—they knew too much, had caused too much pain to the wrong sort of people. The Iron Throne would find them, of that she was sure.


	68. Interlude

x x x

Anna's eyes slowly drew open. She would have preferred they remained closed; the hot sunshine felt lovely on her tired muscles and called enticingly for a nap. But the afternoon was wearing on and there was little time for rest.

She sat up with a groan and brushed away the stray bits of grass that clung to the rough wool of her kirtle. Hugging her knees to her chest she allowed herself another moment to gaze down over the hill. Farlen's wheat hung heavy in the field, sweeping away in a patch of rippling, dusty gold. A good harvest this year. He would need it to pay for the new barn the farmer decided to erect, even though his cattle scarcely rubbed shoulders in the one he built not five years past. Anna shook her head, thinking Maya had a point about their neighbour's airs.

Beyond his farm green lines of hedgerows divided the landscape into a patchwork of varying colours. Here and there a small copse broke the pattern, with the darker green of the trees looking delightful and cool. Small cottages and barns punctuated the fields, and though most stood near the winding Beregost Road a few stood out on their own, neighbourless and unsocial-looking.

The landscape had that pleasing feel to it, when the Earthmother was changing from her summer mantle to autumn. The days were still warm but the nights were growing chilly, and everywhere trees were tinged with colour from turning leaves and ripened fruit. Everything seemed sleepy as the lazy bumblebees that hovered over the cornflowers but Anna knew appearances were deceiving. Elsewhere her neighbours were as busy as she, hurrying in the annual race to gather up the Mother's bounty.

She craned her neck to look at the trees behind her. Farlen always allowed her to pick elderberries there in return for her remedies, though she had to act fast before birds or the farmer's own flock of children descended upon them. By fortune she'd managed it just right this time and the bunches of glossy dark berries drooped heavily from their red stems, waiting for her to slice them away into her baskets. Anna dragged herself to her feet and waded again into the tangle of branches, looking for the ripest bunches.

She found herself distracted though by some other berries; the brambles there looked so sweet and ripe she risked yet more scratches to snatch herself a few. Anna and the girls had spent the past few days crawling over the hills picking blackberries, leaving her looking like she'd been on the losing side of a grand battle with an army of housecats.

Her fingers stained purple with the juice and she worried about the state of her face, but vanity would have to wait. She turned back to the elder, and after a quick thanks to the spirit of the tree sliced the bunch free with her knife. Easing her way around the tree she liberated a half-dozen further bunches; a decent take but her basket was still less than half-full. Anna set about her task in earnest, marching up and down along the hedgerow till she could find no more within easy reach of her grasp.

...

Taking up her burden she hurried back to the cottage. She moved a little too quickly though and managed to upset one of the baskets while climbing over a stile. With a few muttered curses she gathered up the bunches and lit off again. A number of small wood casks were stacked outside the kitchen door, and she let out an exhausted groan.

"The lads have brought the whiskey, I see," Anna sighed, plopping the baskets down with a thump. "I'll have to start the tinctures tomorrow."

"Should have started them this tenday past," Maya replied. "That Wentway will be howling for your head again, mark my words."

The round housekeeper turned from the kettle, wiping her face that grew wet as rain from the heat of the kitchen. She gave Anna a look that implied she couldn't care less how loudly the merchant wailed.

"I know. What could I do though? The moon wasn't right, and the berries weren't ripe—"

"And dithering girls make excuses, aye," Maya interrupted. "No point palavering about it now. That girl of yours is upstairs tending to it as we speak. A keen little thing she is, if a bit pert. Are those all the berries ye could find? That stand gives less every year."

_That girl of yours_. Anna had been home for over a month and she was still 'that girl of yours'. But the housekeeper still spoke the words with more affection than when she mentioned 'that boy'.

"I'd better see what she's doing," Anna remarked somewhat coolly, pouring out some water to wash. "There's enough there for us and Farlen, but I'll have to piece out with blackberries for the rest. Maybe I could go see tomorrow if the birds have had their way with the stand in the south pasture—Old Man Wickle would never know the difference."

"You won't be going down there," the housekeeper said firmly. "A bunch of thieving gypsies has set up camp in his wood, and a proper scandal it is. He won't do a damn thing about it. Janet thinks he's scared of a curse, but I say he's just too lazy. Who knows what they get up to? A scandal, I say. Not safe in our own wood these days."

Maya continued clucking her prophecies of doom to herself, sparing Anna the need to reply. She'd seen the villains in question and though they weren't the cleanest people she'd encountered in her time, after all she'd been through that summer a few travelling families didn't seem like the concern they might once have been. She washed as best she could and hurried up the creaking steps to her workroom.

...

The room was bright from sunshine and had that pleasantly dusky scent of dried herbs that she had missed so much. Anna paused though, surprised to see a purple blur hovering in the middle of the room. The blur moved closer and Imoen's voice called out of the haze.

"Oh, hiya. Sorry about that—I just wanted to get some practice in!"

She spoke a few short words and the haze faded. Imoen adjusted her robe and beamed at Anna with a cheeky smile.

"Well, at least your cancellation charms are coming along," Anna said, a grin of her own slipping out. "But what else are you working on?"

"Hawthorn tinctures," Imoen replied. "I've set up five crocks already."

She gestured grandly to the row of corked, wide-necked jugs sitting on the table.

"Did you remember to add the flower essence?" Anna asked, feeling somewhat alarmed at the girl's unsupervised productivity.

"Yes, worry-wart," Imoen said. "Vera made some every year, and I could do this in my sleep. Winthrop has a weak heart—too many pork pies!"

"Good," Anna said, feeling relieved. "I appreciate this, though you should wait till I get back before starting anything else. You are the assistant here, after all!"

"Har, har," Imoen replied, facing down Anna's attempt at an imperious look. "Don't worry, it's not like this is magic or anything. Why do you spend so much time with these things, anyway? We've done up one order of potions and that was it. I thought an alchemist would be making something a little more interesting than common salves and whatnot."

"It's not overly exciting, but this is my bread and butter," Anna sighed. "Magical elixirs bring in a lot of coin but they also call for expensive ingredients, and can take a long time to prepare. And I don't sell many of them myself so Wentway puts a good deal of that gold in his pockets."

"But why don't you, then? It doesn't seem fair that he gets your money when he's not done anything to earn it."

"No time! You see all I have to do here, it's all I can do to keep up with the gardens. I take on help when I need it, but that costs coin as well," Anna said.

"Sounds like a bit of an excuse to me," Imoen remarked.

"Maybe," she said, throwing her a look. "But such is the life of a country alchemist. Most people here want remedies for whooping cough and ague, not potions of firebreath. It isn't exotic but you get used to it."

Imoen made a slightly weary sigh and went back to filling the crocks. Anna watched her packing in the red berries, then covering them with light brown whiskey. She took up a small vial and measured out a portion of flower essence, then stirred the mixture with a spoon. She packed the berries down well and covered them with the cork disk.

Despite her occasionally over-enthusiastic additions Imoen seemed a natural at this sort of work; magic came easily to her, and she was bright and quick to learn. Anna was glad to finally have a chance at teaching her properly, but the thought raised an unpleasant subject.

...

"Imoen—there's something we need to talk about."

"What?" the girl asked, not turning around.

Anna drew a breath. "Sophie's mother said she caught her reciting something like a cantrip on her little brother. Have you been teaching her any charms?"

Imoen paused in her work, her shoulders stiffening.

"Well—maybe a little bit. But it's not a big deal."

"She said Pip was covered head to toe in boils afterwards. It is a big deal, Imoen."

The girl straightened up and turned around, her eyes wide.

"I never taught her anything like that! It was only a—"

"That doesn't matter," Anna interrupted. "She's a thirteen year old girl with no magical experience—the mistakes she can make could be worse than the intended effect! Pip's fine now, thank goodness, but that was really reckless of you. Why did you do it?"

"Why? I don't know," Imoen said, her cheeks turning red. "She seemed really interested in magic. I didn't think there'd be any harm."

"But there was," Anna said. "We're all just fortunate it wasn't something worse."

"I'm sorry, but I really didn't think it'd do any harm," Imoen repeated. "I was casting spells when I was younger than her."

"Yes, but you had proper teachers. Sophie's just a farm girl, she doesn't know anything about magic."

"But she wants to learn!" Imoen said, her tone rising. "What's wrong with that? Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but she said you never teach her anything even though she asked. It doesn't seem fair."

Anna found herself growing angry.

"It's nothing to do with 'fair'. Do you honestly think I wouldn't teach her just to be mean? I've known Sophie nearly her entire life. She's a good girl, but she doesn't have the temperament for studying magic. She barely knows how to read."

"You're saying she's thick, then?" Imoen demanded.

"No! Of course not."

Anna groaned and folded her arms. Since her arrival Imoen seemed to take on the part of glamorous older sister to Maya's granddaughter, a role she took to heart. Their gossipy friendship often made Anna smile, if somewhat ruefully, but this was a line she couldn't tolerate.

"I teach her herb lore and crafting, but magic is beyond her. Not everyone is cut out for the Arcane Art, no matter how bright they may be. And...she's not you, Imoen. Remember that."

"What's that mean?"

"Well, maybe you look at her and see a bit of yourself. You were a maid, but you wanted to be something more. I understand why you want to teach her, but believe me, it's not a good idea," Anna said.

"Yeah, and that's what some people said about me, too," she replied. "But I guess anyone can be wrong."

Anna sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Well. Do you want to carry on here? I need to go help Maya with the berries."

"Alright," Imoen said, deflating as well. "But would you mind if I finished up in a couple of hours?"

"Have some plans?" Anna said, a small grin creeping out.

"Maybe," she said lightly. "There might be a sort of do on at the Juggler. Just maybe."

Anna smiled. "I suppose it's alright. Though don't forget to save some energy for the Harvest Festival."

"Oh, when would I ever run out of energy?" Imoen quipped. "You don't know me at all."

"Or maybe too well," Anna replied, waving her hand in the air. "Carry on, girl!"

She laughed as Imoen launched a hawthorn berry in her direction. Anna sent the missile flying back with deadly accuracy and hurried back downstairs before Imoen could rally another assault.

...

"She burnt the house down yet?" Maya remarked, glancing up from her kettle.

"No, she's fine," Anna sighed. "I spoke to her about Sophie."

"Good on ye," Maya said with force. "Nobody's going to turn my girl into some wizard. _Ah, _no slight on you, miss."

Anna said nothing. She filled a basin with water, added some vinegar, and began the tiresome task of stripping the little elderberries from their stems. Maya continued stirring the vat of bubbling berries, cooking them down into a thick syrup. Their sweet scent and the heat of the kitchen gave it a drowsy feel.

"Reckon that lad of yours will be back before long," the housekeeper said. "I'll have to put this aside and get him some tea—he eats like a wolf, that boy."

"And he works like a dog, he has a right to be hungry," Anna bristled.

"Aye, aye. No need to be stroppy, miss. Just not used to cooking for menfolk anymore—they do need a precious lot of meat."

"He also has a name," Anna remarked.

"I know he does," she said bluntly.

Anna stared hard at the berries as they splashed into the water. The housekeeper had seemed near to fainting when Anna stepped unannounced over the kitchen threshold, like she'd been a spirit come to call. Tears actually welled up on her round face, and she grabbed her in a tighter hug than if she'd been Anna's mother herself. But her joy was immediately tempered when the two siblings followed her inside. Anna hoped it was just surprise, and assumed she'd warm up to them in time. But though there was never a voice raised she could feel a continuing tension in the house, a general sense of unease.

...

"Why don't you like Finn, Maya?"

The great spoon paused for a moment in the kettle.

"Who says I don't like him? He seems a decent enough sort."

"Maya, please," Anna began. "You've been treating him like an invader ever since we came home. Imoen too, but—why? We're going to be married. I thought you'd be happy for me."

The housekeeper let out a long sigh.

"Of course I'm happy for you. I see the way that lad makes you smile, and he's all right, I reckon. I always wanted to see you married—you've been almost like one of my own girls to me. I just wished you'd have picked a local man. What was wrong with Master Kelling? He called round here more than once. Rich farmer, good pious fellow, pleasing enough to look at. But he weren't good enough, I suppose."

"Maya!" Anna said, surprised. "He was nearly twenty years older than me. And a widower in the market for a new wife wasn't my idea of romance."

"You young people, never will learn that there's more to love than romance," she said, shaking her head. "My Rupert, the gods rest his soul, he was practical. He says to me, 'Maya, I've got a good quarter section and an orchard, and I can get a cottage built in a tenday. Would you come be my wife?' And I did. We had a real fine attachment, and we didn't need any of your mooning _romance. _That's for novels, not real living."

Anna bit her lip thinking their attachment must have been good, considering the number of children they brought into the world. But she kept that thought to herself.

"I don't see what that has to do with Finn, though," she said. "What does it matter if he's not from here? There's a wider world out there than Beregost."

"It's just because we don't _know _him," Maya said. "We don't know his family. We don't know where he's from. I always say if you want to tell anything about a body, just have a look at their relations. I could tell you all you needed to know about anyone in this town on nothing more than their kin. But with him, who knows? You don't know what's in his blood. His father weren't his real father, and his sister ain't his real sister. That worries me, Anna, and I won't pretend otherwise."

Maya hardly ever called her by her first name, and it drove her point further in.

"I think you're being ridiculous," she shot back. "My father and I didn't come from this town, or anywhere near here, but you trusted us enough to come work under our roof."

"Work, aye—but not marry. I'm not saying your Finn is a bad fellow. All I'm saying is, think on it."

She turned from her kettle and gave her a serious look.

"I _have _thought on it," Anna replied, her cheeks turning red.

"All right, then," Maya said, and went back to stirring.

...

Anna continued sorting the berries in silence. A strange feeling kept turning over in her stomach. Maya was the closest to family that she had now, and her reticence stung her hard. Why did people need to pick things apart? Somehow her thoughts flashed back to the city. They'd all been so frustrated after their disastrous meeting with the Dukes. Finn's temper was keen, and Kivan's smouldering fire wasn't much cooler. Xan said something—what was it? She couldn't remember now. It was so cold though it burned.

She ran out into the little garden to find some relief. As she stood there she heard the door open; Ajantis followed her out. He seemed so shocked at their plans to marry, and with all the awkwardness already surrounding them the knight was the last person she wished to speak with.

"Are you certain of this, my lady?" the knight said. "It seems...quite sudden."

"Perhaps. But after all we've been through...besides, we might not marry right away," Anna said, looking down at the stones.

Ajantis seemed somehow relieved.

"So there is no...immediate need for a wedding, at least."

She heard the meaning in his voice, and turned to him in surprise.

"No, of course not. How could you ask such a thing?"

"Forgive me," he said, shaking himself. "I just...I am glad you have kept your honesty. I feared for you last night. I confess it was all I could do to keep from going to the inn. I know it is not truly my place, but I cannot help it."

Anna felt a shock go through her; she hadn't thought that he might seek them out. She imagined what would have happened if he'd discovered them and a heat rose.

"You have, haven't you?" Ajantis said.

His level gaze set on her. Anna felt ill and quickly looked away.

"Yes."

"Very well," he said slowly.

Anna had no idea if he believed her or not. Her throat felt dry and pained and she couldn't look him in the eye.

"I do not know how much time we will have to speak, so I will be plain," Ajantis said. "Although I would never tell you not to follow your heart, I doubt the wisdom of this marriage."

She did look at him then.

"What do you mean?" she said sharply.

Ajantis sighed. "Finn is the sort that draws women to him, though why I cannot say. He is a handsome man, undoubtedly, but what is an appealing face in the end? It will become lined as all ours will. In honesty...I fear for you. Where will you be when the ale has softened his muscles and sharpened his temper? How long do you think it will be before he turns his temper towards you? I have seen it myself, too many times. And I do not want to see it happen to you."

Anna kept staring at him.

"Ajantis—you are wrong about him. I am certain of that. Did you not say yourself he needed guidance? Perhaps marriage is just what he needs. Finn loves me, I know he does."

"I did not say that he did not. But love can fade, my lady."

She stared back down at the paving stones, her eyes growing blurry. Suddenly though her shock melted into anger.

"So what should I do then?" she flashed. "Never marry on the chance my husband's love might one day cool? Or be like you, and take whatever pairing my family decided was best, my feelings be damned?"

She could feel a jolt pass through him at the remark, but she was too angry to care.

"No, my lady," he said quietly.

He looked at her, a look she couldn't describe. Anna stormed past him into the house, her eyes nearly blind with the heat in her face.

...

"Are you all right, miss?" Maya asked.

Anna drew a deep breath and wiped her stinging eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just a bit hot in here."

The housekeeper looked at her sharply, but shook her head.

"You might run down to the butcher's and get a bit of ham for tea. There's none in the house, and it's too hot for cooking this eve. I'll see to these berries here."

"Are you sure? I don't want to leave you saddled with all this," Anna muttered.

"I've done more work than this on my own and managed just fine," Maya reassured her. "You go on. Get some air."

Anna nodded. She washed her hands and wandered rather blindly into the lane. Idly she glanced down and realised she hadn't changed out of her work dress, but she didn't truly care.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the western trees but the butcher's shop would still be open. The rhythm of her feet on the hard packed earth eased some of the tension out of her, and she threw back her arms and took a deep breath. A breeze shivered through the leaves, making the poplars' silvery foliage ripple like water.

How long now since that morning she set off to meet a group of strange adventurers? Anna almost laughed at her naive determination. To solve the iron crisis—such a simple task! But she'd survived, and now she was home to stay. The thought brought a smile to her face and her step lightened as she took the crossroads towards Beregost.

...

Her smile widened seeing a figure walking towards her in the road. He was a strange sight with the clay ale-jug dangling by its rope against his mail and the straw hat bouncing against his sword, like some odd hybrid of farmer and fighter. He gave her a bright smile and swept her up into a hug.

"Here's my lady!" Finn said. "You can't stand to be away from me for five minutes, can you?"

"You'd like to think so," Anna replied lightly, giving him a kiss. "I'm off into town to get some meat. No comments, please."

Finn laughed. "Ah, pooh. That was too easy, anyway. Give me a challenge!"

"I'd have thought you'd be tired of challenges today. Have you finished early?"

Finn's face looked grim.

"Aye. Our drillmaster's not best pleased—nearly half the men were missing. I'm surprised he didn't have us go out and raid the farms to roust everyone."

"Well, what does he expect?" Anna asked. "He ought to know it's harvest season. Asking every able-bodied man and boy to give up a full day for militia training is like cutting off an arm."

"I know. And it's not going to go down any better that they want us to meet every fifth day now, instead of ten."

"What?" she exclaimed. "Why?"

"Officer Vai seems to think the town's not fit for fighting. I can't say I disagree, though I don't know what she expects from a bunch of farmers. Most of them don't have any kind of armour, and only a handful have swords. The bowyers have been working double-time and most have bows now, but still. Of them that have the muscle to pull a longbow half can't aim straight. If this town ever does get attacked they'll be up against it," Finn concluded.

"But why the sudden need? Has something happened?" Anna asked again.

"I don't know," he said, smoothing down her hair. "It's Vai's job to be worried, that's all. I wouldn't think too much on it."

He smiled at her but Anna could see something more in his eyes.

"Why doesn't this ever go away?" she sighed. "The iron plague is over. Even if we couldn't bring down the Iron Throne...why won't it go away?"

Finn squeezed her close, chainmail and all.

"Don't worry. We'll be all right. Look here, this will cheer you up!"

He reached into his bag and pulled out an oddly-shaped paper parcel.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Bacon!" he announced, so grandly that she couldn't help but laugh. "To spare you the need of walking all the way into town."

"You are certainly a gentleman, to bring your lady so thoughtful a gift," she snickered.

"Well, I thought of diamonds, but you can't eat them," Finn remarked. "And you might eat a silk shawl, but you'd need an awful lot of ale to wash it down."

"Romantic and practical," Anna said. "However could I refuse? Let's take this back to Maya."

"I don't know, it's a bit early yet. Feeling up to a walk?"

"Are you?" she asked. "I'd have thought you'd be exhausted."

"I'm all right—I just had a bite of bread and ale. It'll be too cool later, anyway."

...

Anna smiled and took his hand. They turned away from the town, taking instead a quiet little lane that wandered up over Neller's Hill before drifting back down towards the river. A few wispy clouds floated far above their heads but none blocked out the still-warm sunshine. In the trees beside the lane a chorus of birds chirruped and twittered; Anna watched a pert blackbird with his bright yellow beak as he sat above them, singing his fair evening song for their benefit.

They talked lightly on their way, sharing little lovers' jokes and tales about their day but Anna's heart felt heavier than her smiles might suggest. Those last couple of days in the city were little more than a blur and she still couldn't process them now. She suggested they go back to Beregost, not even seriously to herself. But Finn lit on the idea and once it took hold in her she could think of little else.

Somehow she managed to find them room in a caravan heading south. There were a few short goodbyes, some parting words—little though that suggested the depth of emotion that had been carrying them all along in its tide, whether they knew it or not. Everything just seemed...broken.

...

"You've got that look again," Finn said suddenly.

"What look?" Anna started.

"Like you've just met a sphinx," he replied, trying to laugh.

"I'm sorry," she said, squeezing his hand. "I've just...been thinking about Baldur's Gate."

"Ah."

Finn cleared his throat but said nothing else.

"Do you think we did the right thing, leaving like we did?" she asked.

"We did what we could at the time," he said slowly. "And that's all we could do."

"You're right," she sighed.

"It's nice here. Why don't we sit down?"

He paused suddenly, gesturing to the grass at the side of the road. Anna looked at him, somewhat surprised.

"Don't you want to go up to the river? We could go wading."

"Not now," Finn said, and she thought his voice had an odd tone. "Let's just...talk a minute."

Her heart jumped wondering what he had to say. They settled down under the shade of a hawthorn tree. Finn stared off into space for a moment, then spoke.

"When are we going to get married?"

"What?" she said, a slightly nervous laugh slipping out at the abruptness of the question.

"It's just—we've been here awhile now, and we've barely talked about a wedding."

"I know," Anna said. "But with everything that's happened, and the harvest now...we've both been busy."

"Not that busy," Finn remarked. "You...you still want to, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," she said quickly. "You know I do."

She grasped his hand and tried to smile reassuringly, though his eyes still looked serious.

"I'm just asking because...well, I might as well be out with it, eh? Officer Vai offered me a commission with the Flaming Fist."

...

Anna stared at him. If he'd announced that he'd taken up residency as a Dawnbringer at the temple she couldn't have been more surprised.

"An officer? With the Flaming Fist?" she stammered. "Finn—when? How?"

"She's been impressed with me, is all. I've been acting as something of a drill captain, and I suppose she liked the way I dealt with the men. She didn't need to offer me an officer's commission, but she did. It's pretty good, I think."

"I don't know what to say. That's—impressive. But the Flaming Fist?" Anna said. "And what about your work?"

"Master Carick's a good fellow to take me on, but I can't see myself thatching roofs for a living," Finn replied. "And I know, I felt the same way at first. But an officer's commission—I'd have to serve for years to earn that, and she just hands it to me on a plate. I'd have to train some but she says she'll recommend me straight away. I could stay based near Beregost as well. I wouldn't need to—"

"But the Flaming Fist?" Anna interrupted. "After all we've been through with them, Finn, how..."

"They're not all bad," he said quickly. "Officer Vai's alright, she's got her act together. Most of them are just good soldiers. I know, I know. I keep thinking it over, and part of me is straight back with that arsehole Duke and bastard Dosan. But there's more to the Fist than them."

"But they're in charge!" she continued. "What if they—Finn, no. I don't like it. It's bad enough you have to serve in their militia, having you being a full officer at their beck and command—no."

The more she thought of it the worse it seemed, and she felt a strange panic rising.

"Just think about it, love," Finn said earnestly. "It's good work. It's just the sort of thing I wanted to do. And an officer! I'd get a pension and all—"

"A widow's pension?" she said, her voice cracking.

Finn drew a sharp breath. "If you like. But be reasonable—if Dosan wanted us he could've had us at any time. He's not going to do anything. It's all right. They haven't done anything bad to Captain Merion, and he says—"

_"Merion_ says?"

She glanced at him sharply. Finn's shoulders hunched and he leaned back.

"He's here, Anna. He's been in town for nearly a tenday."

Her eyes suddenly blurred and she felt herself beginning to shake.

"The Duke sent him back onto the road as a punishment for our little episode," Finn said. "I didn't know myself that he was in town till this morning. He'll be here for awhile, unless he gets called out somewhere. I think he might have had a few words with Officer Vai as well, to recommend me like."

"Oh."

...

It was all she could say. She felt like something black was creeping up on her, somewhere just beyond the range of her vision. At any moment it would pounce and she would be helpless again.

"Anna, if you don't want me to do this, I won't," he continued. "They've given me a few days to think it over. Sleep on it and see what you think."

"You sound like you've already made up your mind," she said quietly.

"Not till you decide," he repeated. "I think it's a good opportunity, though."

They were both quiet. Anna sat shivering slightly, almost waiting for the beast to strike. Finn touched her arm and she jumped.

"Easy, love, it's all right," he soothed. "There's nothing to worry about anymore."

"I want to believe that," she whispered.

Finn wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head against his chest. The chain was cold and kept biting at her cheek.

"So why did you ask about our wedding?" she said, her voice still shaky.

He drew another breath.

"Well, if I sign up I might have to ride out. And I'd rather everything was sorted here before I did."

Anna knew well what he meant. Suddenly she knew, too, that she didn't want to wait any longer.

"I'll talk to Mella tomorrow," she said. "I know she's busy with Highharvestide so soon, but..."

"Alright," Finn said. He squeezed her closer. "It's going to be alright. We're home now, eh?"

He smiled at her brightly, and Anna kissed him. She seemed to feel the warmth of his body through the mail; it flowed through to that cold knot in her stomach and melted it, bringing up another kind of desperate feeling in its wake. Finn looked surprised but eagerly took her hand as she rose up, and led them deeper into the shade of the trees.


	69. The Wheel of the Year

"Don't suppose you could stop the sun, could you?" Finn said.

He yawned and stretched stiffly out in bed, turning his head to stare at the grey window.

"Afraid not," Anna mumbled.

She rolled over and curled up against his chest. The bed was warm and comfortable with its feathers and pillows, and the heavy weight of sleep proved too much to resist. Her eyes drifted shut again but Finn suddenly jerked.

"I'd better be off," he said. "Carick says the next man to miss the wagon's going to pull it."

He groaned and stumbled out of bed, fishing around on the floor for his trousers.

"Where are you today?" Anna asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Ridge Farm, up north of town somewhere. I hope this fellow has a few less pigs than the last—my nose is still burning."

Anna let out a short chuckle. She watched as Finn pulled the woollen jerkin over his tunic and tugged on his boots. He brushed his hair back with his fingers and tied it into a rough braid, then washed quickly in the basin. He rubbed himself dry with a towel and turned to her, a smile spreading over his tired face.

"Damn, but you do look nice lying there."

"I doubt that very much," she croaked, snuggling herself deeper into the covers.

Finn crawled back over the bed and gave her a kiss.

"I beg to differ. But I've got to go." He kissed her again, then paused. "You'll...think about things today, aye?"

Anna's mouth narrowed but she nodded. Finn kissed her once more then slipped quietly out the chamber door, trying not to wake the still-sleeping house.

She lay still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling through blurry eyes. After hearing the faint sound of the kitchen door drawing shut she forced herself from bed and went to the window. Through the dim morning mist she caught sight of Finn walking swiftly towards town, hat and dinner sack in his hands.

They hadn't been in Beregost for even a tenday before Finn set off looking for work. Anna didn't know why he was so keen; they'd carried back with them enough gold to feed a family for a year, and her gardens provided well enough on their own. But there was something in him that always needed to be in motion, even if it was little more than the repetitive labour of a roofer. Perhaps, as with her, work distracted him from thoughts he'd rather not dwell upon.

Finn disappeared into the mist and she shivered in her shift. A cold morning, but the sun would soon burn the haze away. Her mind suddenly bombarded her with the tasks she needed to attend, but rather than putting on her work dress as usual she slipped into her woad-blue frock.

...........

She washed quickly and brushed out her hair, then did up the bed before heading downstairs. Maya stood there in her felt slippers, clutching at the knitted shawl that covered her voluminous shift as she prodded up the kitchen fire.

"Where are you off to?" the housekeeper asked, surprised to see Anna in her town dress.

"I just have a few things to see to," she replied shortly. "I'll be back before long."

Maya shook her head. "Well, keep your mystery. Between you and that girl there I don't know what I'll do. What hour did she get back last night? I sat up late in here, waiting to bolt the door, but she never came in."

Anna said nothing. She didn't want to mention that she heard a male voice alongside Imoen's in the small hours, and Finn was asleep next to her in bed.

"I'd have a word with her if I was you," Maya continued grimly. "We're not some tavern here where a body can get to bed and rise up at any hour they please. Girls get into trouble that way."

"I know. I'll talk to her," Anna sighed. "When she gets up tell her to fetch in the herbs that are dry, and pick what's left of the agrimony in the garden for tinctures."

"When she gets up will be now. We're all awake, and I won't have any lie-abeds in this house," Maya stated.

Anna nodded and stepped out of the kitchen, though her mind was a hundred miles from giving Imoen a lecture on deportment. There was only one person she could truly think of speaking with that morning, and the idea had kept her awake for most of the night.

.............

She walked the mile into Beregost slower than her nerves demanded; Finn and the thatchers would be heading off in another direction but she still didn't want to run the risk that their paths might cross. At last though the houses began to grow closer together and she found herself in town.

Beregost was coming awake. From hidden back gardens came the cries of cockerels proclaiming their presence to the morning. The shopkeepers were sweeping down their steps and a few farmers who had likely been up for hours waited impatiently to do business. In the small common pasture a lad guided his geese with a stick, while the brown and dappled cows looked on with mild interest. A small throng of quietly gossiping women huddled around the fountain to fetch their morning's water. Anna laughed somewhat grimly to herself, wondering if any of those women knew how that fountain once washed down a thieving elf.

With the iron plague a bad memory and caravans passing through once more, Beregost seemed to have weathered the troubles battered but mostly whole. Anna was glad of that at least, and unusually glad to hear the clang of the blacksmith's hammer as it pierced the morning. Still all was not as it once was; iron was still prone to rust, the caravans were less frequent, and more than one family had left the area for good. The crisis had left a shadow hanging over the town that Anna hadn't known before. New faces were regarded with suspicion and most people kept their business to themselves.

If not for her influence she wondered if Finn would have been able to find work at all. Although there seemed to be a general rumour that they were adventurers and possibly even some sort of heroes, few really seemed to believe that Mistress Whitehaven and her companions had actually accomplished the deeds accredited to them. Which suited her well enough; she didn't want to worry about Finn having a drink in the tavern without some of the local lads deciding to try their luck with a 'hero'.

But even the least observant eye could spot the greatest change in Beregost since the crisis began—what started as an emergency post to deal with the bandit troubles had blossomed into a permanent base for the Flaming Fist. The mercenary company requisitioned a farm just outside town, turning the house into officers' quarters and the barns and outbuildings into barracks and storehouses. They even put up a stockade around the base, Anna noted to her dismay; the sharpened wooden poles reminded her rather too much of the Cloakwood Mine.

A guard halted her at the gate but Anna met his gaze.

"I want to speak with Captain Merion," she said, without hesitation. "Tell him Anna Whitehaven is here. He'll know who I am."

"Have you got an appointment?" the guard asked.

"No, but I'm going to see him. If you'd pass the message on, please?"

The 'please' was anything but warm. The guard looked hesitant but something in her tone must have tipped him for he related the request to a comrade. Anna's stomach vibrated with strange nerves and she felt almost like she might jump over the gate and go in search of the captain herself. After what seemed like a lifetime the mercenary came back.

"The captain will see you," she said.

She led her into the old farmhouse, which looked strangely gutted with most of the furnishings replaced by rolls of maps and racks of swords. Anna followed her up the low staircase to one of the bedchambers.

.............

That familiar scarred face opened the door. He dismissed the mercenary and gestured almost nervously for Anna to enter.

_"Ah, _sorry about this," Merion said. "The quarters are a bit tight here and I don't have an office."

The captain slid aside a few books on the bed to make a space for her to sit; the only chair in the room was covered in armour. He set the books on a trunk but Anna made no move to sit down.

"Better not stay too long, the guards might get to talking," he said, trying to make a joke. His face fell though seeing Anna's expression. "Well, I guess I know why you're here."

"I'm sure you do," she replied. "But I want to know what you're doing here."

He seemed surprised. "Didn't Finn tell you? I was reassigned. Duke Eltan thought the desk job wasn't agreeing with me so he sent me back out on the road. To be honest, it was a bit of a relief to get clear of the city."

"That isn't what I meant. I want to know what you're _doing. _Did you put him up for this commission?"

She glared at him and he gave her a strange look.

"Maybe I did, but I'm not the one who makes the decisions here," Merion replied. "This is Vai's command. She thought Finn was up to it or she wouldn't even consider making him an offer."

"But why?" Anna asked again. "He's not even in the Flaming Fist. You must have enough recruits to choose from. Why him?"

Her voice wobbled and Merion stared at her.

"I'm not really sure what you're on about. I'm certainly not trying to do wrong by the lad. The Dukes want to expand our operations on the coast, and we need all the good officers we can get. And after all you folks did I'd definitely put him down as a candidate."

"But that's just it. After all we've been through—did you never think you might be putting him in danger? What—what's going on with the Dukes?" she said, her voice dropping. "Did they ever move against the Iron Throne?"

Merion looked grim. "No. Jhasso made a deal with them after you folks left—they agreed to take on the Seven Sun's debts for ownership of the consortium. Jhasso's still there, in body at least. He's nothing but a shell of a man. And Lavinia won't even speak with me. Nothing else has changed. The Throne still strut around like they own the place and the Dukes don't bat an eye."

The sentence ended in a growl. Anna sat down on the bed and rubbed her forehead; a dull ache was building there.

"I tell you, I was up against it for what I did," Merion said quietly. "I'm still amazed the commander didn't have me put on trial. But he's...not himself, anymore."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

The captain shook his head, and a strange look passed over his face.

"Best not to talk about it."

"Was it true, though? What Dosan said about you and Mistress Jhasso. I want to know," Anna demanded.

She looked up at him and Merion drew a sharp breath.

"It's true we were lovers once, but nothing else happened like he said. I was in a bad place after I got hurt...a man likes to think he's hard, but taking a blow like this..." He rubbed the ugly, distorted gash and winced. "Suffice it to say, me and the bottle got to be good friends. Lavinia just got to the point where she couldn't take it anymore. Can't say as I blame her. It goes to show what a kind-hearted soul she really is though, that we stayed friends all these years. But she loves that man more than anything, and he's been good to her. There was nothing between us except worry over Henerick, I give you my word on that. And I sure as hells wasn't trying to use you folks for my own ends."

Anna sighed. Although she never really thought Dosan's claims had any truth to them, a part of her strangely wished they did. It would be an easier explanation to deal with.

"Very well," she said slowly. "But there's something else I want your word on."

"What?"

"That this commission is only what it seems to be." She raised her head, and looked the captain straight in the eye. "We're finished with all this intrigue. We did all we could, and we've lost enough blood and enough of our sanity doing it. I don't want any more, and neither does Finn. We only want to live our lives. We're getting married. And I don't want any more plots and plans, any more knives in the dark. Would he be safe in the Flaming Fist? Or is someone out for revenge? Answer me that, and tell me the truth."

Her voice shook but it had an edge like iron. Merion looked startled and took a step back.

"That's a tall question," he said.

"Then start with your answer," Anna replied.

He let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"Is any man safe in the Fist?" he muttered. "We don't sit around on our backsides. But...the offer is what it is. I've never led any man off a cliff, and I won't start now. I'd be glad to have Finn on our side. He'd make a good officer—he's smart, the men like him, and he fights like he'd bare-knuckle box an orc without blinking. And that's it."

Merion looked down at the floor at first, but then met Anna's gaze. She tried to look beyond the scar, tried to see what was in his eyes. But she could see little beyond that mask of an old soldier.

"Well. It's Finn's decision really, not mine. But I needed to know," she said quietly.

"I don't blame you for being worried," Merion said. "Maybe right now we all just need to focus on what we can do, and not give so much mind to the things we can't."

Anna wondered at those words, but she stood up.

"So, married soon, eh?" Merion said, trying to smile again. "It's always nice to see a young couple getting together. Maybe have a few little ones before long, too."

Anna tried to smile in return but her mouth refused to comply.

"Yes. Well, I have other things to see to today. Finn said you're based here now?"

"Till further notice, aye. He'd serve under me when he gets his commission."

Anna shuddered slightly. She gave the captain the politest goodbye she could manage and made her way back out of the stockade.

............

Once on the road she breathed deeply, deep as if she'd been holding her breath through the meeting. Challenging an officer of the Flaming Fist? She often wondered who she was anymore, but today she felt past the point of caring. She only wished those shadows she saw everywhere would finally disappear.

She remembered the day they left the city. The others had come with them to the caravan point, more out of politeness than anything. It was busy and hot in the throng of people, wagons and mules, and Anna's head ached.

Finn was talking to a driver and Ajantis seemed incapable of speaking more than the shortest words. Left on her own she struggled to load her pack and other supplies into the crowded wagon, but a pair of hands reached out to help. She barely registered that it was Xan until he spoke.

"You asked me to copy out a spell of dimension door some time ago, but I wouldn't feel comfortable passing that on without teaching you its proper use."

"Oh," Anna said. "That's alright. I'd forgotten about it, anyway."

She glanced at the elf, wondering why he saw fit to mention that now, but went back to struggling with her pack.

Xan cleared his throat. "Just the same...I wanted to give you this. I'm certain you will know how to use it."

He held out a small velvet pouch. Anna gave her pack a final shove and took it from him, wondering, but her mouth fell open regarding its contents.

A small cabochon glistened like a rainbow in her palm, reflecting the sunlight in a remarkable array of shifting colours. She held it up in awe but Xan grabbed at her hand.

"Kindly refrain from showing it to the world, if you please," he said quickly.

"I'm sorry," Anna stammered, slipping the jewel back in its pouch. "But, Xan...a rogue stone? How—a man could buy a farm for what those cost. Two, even."

"Don't concern yourself with that. Just keep it out of sight," the elf replied. "It is attuned to Beregost, and that is its trigger word."

"Alright," she said, clutching the pouch in her palm as if it held her life's blood. "But why?"

"Thank you is a more appropriate response," he muttered. "Just...keep it with you."

Anna looked at him. She thought his cheeks were slightly pink, but it might have been the heat of the sun.

"Thank you for this..." she managed. "But I—thank you."

She felt too stunned to say anything else. Xan nodded, his eyes focused beyond her in the crowd.

"You are welcome. But there is one other thing."

"What?" she said, squeezing the pouch harder.

"Don't come back."

He looked her straight in the eye, and Anna jerked.

"What?" she began again.

"Go and live your life. Go back to that little home of yours and stay there. Perhaps you may find some peace that way, if any peace is ever to be found in this world. But do not come seeking this foolishness again."

Anna could only stare at him. He looked back at her, his gaze level and serious. Suddenly her pack began to slide down out of the wagon. Anna turned and grabbed at it, letting out an involuntary curse. When she turned back she saw Xan walking away.

.............

She paused in the lane and pulled the little pouch out from her bodice, where it hung by a cord from her neck. She hadn't even told Finn what it contained; she said it was a charm and that seemed to satisfy him. She would take out the gem in quiet moments when she was alone, and watch its liquid rainbow sparkling. She still had no idea what possessed Xan to give her such a gift, though perhaps it could be said that she saved his life.

Looking at the stone she thought of the elf with more affection than she usually did when they were travelling together. In spite of his grim demeanour and superior attitude he had always been strangely protective of her and the others, something she never truly realised until they had parted ways. She sighed and slipped the gem back into its pouch. Where ever Xan was, she hoped he wouldn't need that stone for himself.

As she wandered back through Beregost she slowly began to realise that someone was calling her name. She turned, startled, to see Mistress Feldepost flagging her down from the steps of the inn.

_"Anna!"_ she repeated. "I was starting to wonder if you'd gone deaf."

"I'm sorry, Lucy," she said, walking up to the step. "My mind is somewhere else, I suppose."

"And I reckon I know where," Lucy replied, a small grin curling up the corner of her mouth. "I saw that young man of yours this morning. Quite the sturdy fellow, he is."

Anna flushed a little but she smiled in return.

"He's not so bad at all," Lucy continued. "Did I tell you he stopped in here the other day, to apologise for all that trouble you lot caused? Had a bag of gold with him, too. Tom almost felt bad taking it off him. The guards had told us that Tranzig fellow was a wanted man, but it was decent of him just the same."

Anna felt surprised. "No, he never told me that."

"Reckon he just didn't want you knowing where the gold went," she laughed. "I imagine you'll be needing it for yourselves. But have you got my powders? Been lucky this morning—no headache yet, but there's bound to be one creeping up before long."

"Oh, gods—I'm sorry, I completely forgot," Anna exclaimed. "I wasn't planning on coming to town...I'll send one of the neighbour lads down with it this afternoon, I promise."

"Well, I can hold out till then. But I don't mind telling you I suffered a fair bit when you were gone. The apothecary tried but she just couldn't get the blend right—didn't last nearly so long as yours."

Anna sighed; she'd always considered herself as being on the merchant fringe and it wasn't until she returned that she realised just how much her services were in demand. Flattering though it was she'd been struggling to keep up with the work, and with the stream of apologies she had to issue for taking her lengthy holiday.

"Well, I should be home to stay now," she replied. "Hopefully."

"Oh, aye. We'd be happy to have your do here, although you Chaunteans usually like to do things outside. Still, there's plenty of ale in the cellar," Lucy smiled.

Anna turned pinker and muttered something that even she didn't hear. She said good-bye to Mistress Feldepost and slipped away down the cobbled streets, heading back out of town.

.............

In truth Anna herself hadn't given much thought to their 'do'. Like every young girl she'd spent idle hours imagining her wedding; the details of her dress, the guests, the food, and her bridegroom of course—sometimes faceless and unknown, sometimes very real. But faced with the reality of it she felt strangely lost. She had no mother to fuss over her, no sisters to offer words of wisdom or kind-hearted jealousy. Although Maya would cook for the nation Anna knew she had no real fondness for the pairing, and though Imoen remained keenly enthusiastic her assistance was generally not of the practical sort.

She began to regret wearing her good dress and shoes as she lit off into the fields. Hopefully Mella would be busy on her own land, and not out blessing farms as was the custom for that time of year. Coming out of Hawker's Meadow she caught sight of the priestess in her orchard. She approached quietly, and as the reason for her visit washed over her Anna felt her heart begin to race.

Her arrival was soon announced though as the priestess' children left their apples and came running in Anna's direction. She greeted them happily as she could while trying to force down her nerves.

"Well, hello there," Mella said, stepping down from her ladder. "I thought I'd be around to your place the day after tomorrow, if that's alright. Oh, you young ones—let Anna have some air!"

She laughed and shooed the children back to their work. Anna smiled in spite of everything. She'd always been fond of their Pastoral; Mella had a kind face, strong hands and long, silvery-white braids that reminded her of the goddess herself. In better days she often came to her place just to talk, and they had many long conversations over spade and hoe. But for some reason she'd barely seen Mella since she'd been home. Perhaps there was just too much to say.

"That's fine," Anna said. "But I'm—not really here about the blessing."

"Oh?" Mella replied.

Anna nodded and rolled her hands in her skirts. Mella called out some instructions to her children, then beckoned her to follow. She led her to the corner of the orchard where one of her daughters sat guarding a basket.

"I want to have a chat with Anna," Mella said, smoothing back the girl's braids. "Why don't you go pick apples with Gena?"

The girl readily agreed and jumped up, leaving her horn-book lying on the grass behind her.

"Careless child—my grandmother gave me that," Mella said.

She dusted the book off and set it on a stone. The infant in the basket began to fuss and she lifted him up, rocking him against her shoulder to soothe him.

"He's so big now," Anna remarked.

"Fast as a weed they grow," she said. "Though I can hardly believe that he'll be the last."

"Do you think so?"

"Aye. To tell the truth, he was a blessing we weren't expecting," Mella said. "But we're thankful for it all the same."

Anna smiled a little. Mella continued rocking the child and he fell quiet again.

"So. I can hear the words of the Mother on the wind, but I can't hear yours until you speak. What's on your mind?"

Her words were friendly, but carried that straightforward tone of hers. Anna swallowed hard and spoke.

"Finn and I...we want to get married."

_"Mm, _so you've said_. _Though I can't think you'd stop work and come all the way here to remind me of that," Mella remarked.

"No. We want to get married before the festival ends."

Anna glanced at her. Mella's face didn't change but she paused in her rocking.

"I see. Why the sudden need?"

"Well, Finn is...and I don't..."

"Just start from the beginning, child. I'll listen."

Anna drew a shaking breath. She told Mella about Finn's offer and her own fears, at least as deeply as she could express them. There were some things she wasn't ready to tell her, things she scarcely wanted to admit to herself.

.............

Mella sighed. "I'm thankful my Hector is just a farmer. When he goes out I can feel sure that he'll come home again. At least, I used to." She paused, and Anna knew what she meant. "I've heard it said that some priests refused to bless marriages for men who were going out to war, lest they leave young widows and fatherless children behind them. There's some sense in that."

"He's not going to war," Anna said. "At least, not a war that will ever end. Do you think soldiers ought never to marry?"

"I didn't say that. Though I wonder why he should be so keen to marry, only to leave you behind him."

"He's not _leaving _me," Anna said defensively. "It's just...Finn is a fighter. I wish he wasn't, but he is."

She toyed idly with a blade of grass at her feet. It was the first time she'd really admitted that fact to herself.

"There always needs to be someone to stand guard," Mella said. "But there's a difference between a guardian and a warrior. One defends, the other seeks to kill. Which is he?"

Anna looked at her in surprise.

"A guardian. Do you really think I'd marry some mindless killer who only wanted to spill blood?"

"No," she said. "Don't be offended. But it sounds as if you know the difference between the two. If you trust Finn enough to know it as well, you should trust him to follow his path in this life."

"Even if he's gone? Even if he...?"

"The man and the path go together," Mella said. "You could force him to do something else, but he might resent you for it. The question is whether you can live with it."

"And that's just what I don't know," Anna groaned. "I'm afraid. I've seen it, Mella. I've seen the horror that's out there. I want to get as far from it as I can, but Finn..."

"Perhaps that's his way of dealing with it, to stand up and face things. Or maybe he thinks he can keep you safe that way."

"I don't want him to," Anna whispered.

"Have you told him that?" Mella asked.

"Would it matter if I did?"

Anna looked at her, and the priestess gave her a small smile.

"Marriage is a balancing act. No matter how close you are, there will be times when you're pushing and pulling against each other. You are two different people, after all. But you need to decide these things yourselves. If you are to grow together, you can't push things like that into the cupboard and expect them to stay there. Tell him what's on your mind."

"What would you do?" Anna asked.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not you," she said. "To be honest, the lives you seem to have led of late go well beyond my experience. I know how to birth babies and lambs, and I know how to dig potatoes. But all this..."

The priestess trailed off, and continued rocking the child thoughtfully.

"Everyone seems to think we're marrying too soon," Anna said quietly. "Do you?"

Mella sighed. "Again, I don't really know how to answer. I was surprised when you came back and said you were getting married, I'll admit that. Finn seems like a good lad, though I haven't talked with him much. It's just...I wonder if your bond doesn't have as much to do with pain as with love. You went through things I can't imagine, and it drew you together. But the pain will pass one day. Do you think your love will grow enough to take its place?"

Anna's stomach tightened.

"I hope it will. I do love him, Mella."

"I believe you," she said, a small smile on her face. "I won't object to marrying you, if that's what you really want. I trust you well enough to know your own mind, and I hope it's the same with Finn. Send him round some evening though—I'd like to have a chance to have a good talk with him."

"I will," Anna said, smiling in return. "And, thank you."

............

Mella laid the sleepy infant back in his basket, pulling his little blanket closer around him.

"Of course you realise, this is going to set every gossip's tongue wagging for miles in all directions."

The priestess gave her a crooked smile and Anna buried her face in her hands.

"Don't I know it," she groaned, laughing slightly. "They've been going since we rode into town. Old Mistress Riverbottom actually offered to do me some _knitting _the other day. Knitting!"

"Her husband keeps those merinos, I wouldn't turn her down," Mella laughed. "But you haven't said if there's any reason for talk."

She looked at her knowingly, and Anna's face turned red.

"No," she muttered. "No, there's nothing."

"Well, give it time," Mella replied. "I'm sure the goddess will bless you soon."

"Actually...we've been using herbs," Anna said.

She glanced over at Mella. Her eyebrow raised, but she only caressed the sleeping child's cheek.

"Do you think that's...wrong?" Anna asked.

"The Earthmother wants us to celebrate her gifts, and rejoice in fertility as much as she does," the priestess said quietly. "The birth of a child, the bounty of the fields stretching to the sun...life is joy. Children are her greatest blessing on us. The union of two, creating a new life that represents their love. Nothing is so beautiful as that."

"I know. But we were..."

"But," Mella interrupted. "There are times when you might not want to bring children into the world. In times of disease, or war. The Mother knows this, which is why she created those herbs."

"We're not at war, though. Not formally, at least," Anna sighed.

"But you were, both of you," Mella said. "And that pain is still with you. I can see it in your eyes. Someday it will pass, then you and Finn can have a chance to grow together. Now you two are like a seed, waiting in the earth for the warmth of spring. And I pray that Chauntea will bring it to you soon."

Mella reached over and squeezed her hand. Anna smiled, feeling a warmth of happiness from her blessing. The two women were quiet, watching the children as they gathered the apples. It was as much play as work for them, and they laughed and chased one another around the trees while still managing to fill the baskets. The air felt dozy and warm, and carried with it the scent of autumn.

"The equinox is on the morrow," Mella remarked. "It seems just yesterday it was spring."

Anna hugged her knees to her chest; for her the spring was an entirely different world.

"I suppose I should be off. You have plenty to do, and so do I," she said.

"Aye, but I'm never too busy to talk. Come and see me again soon, won't you?" the priestess said.

"I will. I'll see you tomorrow—it's the blessing of the loaves."

"And why don't you and Finn offer one together? You should be blessed before your wedding, and it would be a nice opportunity."

"We'd like that," Anna smiled. "And...thank you, Mella. For everything."

Mella gave her hand another squeeze and rose up, calling out to a pair of children who'd taken to quarrelling over a basket. Anna quietly took her leave, making her way back across the fields of green and gold.

.............

She spent the rest of the afternoon methodically working around the cottage. Imoen looked rather peaked and tired from her night out, and sour from the lecture that Maya decided to deliver in Anna's place. Imoen insisted the boy had only walked her home but refused to say much else on the matter, which suited Anna well enough.

Finn came trudging back up the hill when the sun was beginning to colour the clouds with pink. The little household ate bacon and boiled potatoes in the kitchen, each of them silent for their own reasons. Anna nibbled at the last of the summer's lettuce, watching Finn as he swallowed the simple meal like a starving man. He glanced up at her and she lowered her eyes.

After supper they went into the garden. Anna wrapped her shawl close against the cool of the breeze, casting her eyes over the cabbages and leeks that would be welcome on the table before long. The oak at the garden's edge dropped an acorn at her feet and she paused to pick it up.

"Merion says you came to see him today," Finn said, unexpectedly.

"Do you think I didn't have a right to?" Anna asked.

"I didn't say that," he replied. "I'd have done the same."

"Then you've seen him as well, I take it."

She fiddled idly with the acorn, pulling off its little brown hat. As a child she used to imagine they had faces, but she couldn't see one now.

"I saw him in town. He asked if I'd made a decision."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I was waiting for you," Finn said.

Anna sighed and leaned up against the stone fence. She set the little acorn and his hat onto the lichen-covered slate, and the acorn promptly rolled away. She caught it in her hand and set it back.

"Finn...what if you die out there? Would you want to leave me here, alone?"

He seemed startled by her response.

"The Fist takes good care of their widows. They—"

"Please don't tell me about a pension," Anna interrupted. "We don't need the money, and that isn't what I meant."

"I know," he sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. But who's to say I couldn't fall off a roof here? That happened to some fellow last year—just slipped and broke his neck. There's no such thing as safe."

"No, but there's safe enough," she said quickly. "And you can't honestly think thatching is more dangerous a life than being a mercenary."

"Is that what you want, then?" Finn asked.

"Isn't it what you want? I understand that you wanted to be a soldier. But your life has changed, or at least I hope it has," Anna said. "There's other things for you to think about."

Finn leaned heavily on the fence.

"You're right. I'll see Vai tomorrow and tell them no."

.............

Anna felt relief at his words, but looking at his face it faded. He didn't seem angry, but there was a kind of tension hiding around his mouth, and a strange intensity as he looked off into the trees.

"Why do you want this so much?" she asked. "Tell me."

"I don't know," Finn said again. "I hear everything you're saying, and I know you're right. But I feel if I was out there, I'd be _doing _something. Like I'd be a person, somebody who mattered. Here...I like Beregost, but every day that goes by I feel like I'm back in Candlekeep. It's the same, only bigger."

Anna felt a jolt pass through her, and she stared at him.

"You don't...you don't want to be here?" she asked weakly.

"No, no," he said quickly. He squeezed her shoulders and placed a kiss on her head. "I didn't mean that. I love being here, with you...I just...I want something more. Do you understand?"

"No, I don't. Isn't it enough for you to have an ordinary life? Being a husband, or a father?"

"Well, I'm not either of those yet," Finn said, trying to laugh. Her face stayed serious though and he cleared his throat. "I want all those things. I want you, and this house, and an army of kids. I want to come home to that. But I just...need to see what's out there, too."

"So I'm just meant to sit here then and be the little wife tending to the children, waiting and wondering if you're going to come home."

She fixed him with a keen look and he started.

"Don't you want kids?" he asked.

"Oh, Finn..." Anna said, shaking her head in aggravation. "Of course I want a family, but I also want my husband to come home every night. Pardon me if that seems selfish."

"I'd come home. I promise you that."

"How?" she said, her voice cracking.

"Because I love you?"

He took her face in his hands, wiping away the moisture that threatened to fall from her eyes. Anna put her hands over his and squeezed them tight.

"I don't know what else to say other than that," Finn said. "I'll do what you want me to, and I won't complain. I know I'm a lucky man—the gods seem to have liked me more than I ever thought. Or maybe it's just you, and your luck's rubbing off on me."

Anna laughed slightly and wrapped her arms around him.

"I talked with Mella today. She said she'd marry us."

"Good," Finn said quietly.

............

He pulled her closer and they stood for a moment, together in each other's arms. Anna pressed her face against him and felt his warmth over the cool of the air.

"Finn...if you want this, then do it," she whispered.

He drew back and looked at her.

"Are you sure?"

"No. But...you need this. And it doesn't need to be permanent, does it? Maybe, after a few years..."

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. "And I'd be home for a tenday at a time, you'd never miss me."

Anna thought otherwise, but she tried to smile at him just the same. Finn kissed her and gave her another hug.

"I'll go tell them first thing tomorrow. There's no work on account of the festival. Damn—an officer! I can't believe it."

A smile broke out over his face and he gave her an even tighter hug.

"And a husband, too," Anna remarked.

"Aye," he said, and a different expression crept over him. "What say you and I go celebrate in advance?"

He gestured his head to the trees, and Anna's eyebrow raised.

"No, I don't think so. It's freezing now, anyway."

"Aw, come on. It's a Chauntean tradition, right? Spending the wedding night in the fields?"

Anna found herself laughing.

"Oh, that's just an old custom. Nobody does that anymore."

Finn's mouth twisted up in a grin.

"I don't know, I'm a traditional sort of fellow. Sounds like good fun to me."

_"No,"_ Anna replied firmly.

She folded her arms and tried to give him an evil eye, but burst out in laughter at the look he gave her. Her laughter turned into a squeal though as Finn suddenly lifted her off her feet, hoisting her over his shoulder.

"Finn—what are you doing? Put me down!" she called out.

"Practice!" he proclaimed. "Let's go down to Old Man Riverbottom's place—his field goes right up to their front door. I'm sure they'd like to see some traditional customs being revived."

He swung her around and set off deliberately towards the innocent farm.

"Don't you dare!" she said, laughing though all the blood was rushing to her head.

"I'm going to take you in the fi-elds," he said, taunting her in a sing-song way. "You're going to get dirt stuck in places—_ow!"_

Anna delivered a swift, hard pinch to his backside, seeing an upside-down Maya appear at the kitchen door. She must have been a ridiculous sight, with her face red and her legs kicking in the air. The housekeeper shook her head and went back inside, and Finn dropped Anna back onto her feet.

"Oh, you bastard!" she laughed, breathless.

"Language, my saucy wench."

He chuckled watching Anna try to restore some order to her fallen braids. She glared at him but a grin of her own crept out.

_"Hmph. _You know what else is a traditional wedding custom?" she asked.

"What's that?"

"Hide and seek with the bride!"

She spoke a quick incantation and vanished into the air. Finn called out in protest but she was already over the fence, calling out for him to follow her through the trees.


	70. Harvest

Sleep broke from Anna and she opened her eyes. Finn was still unconscious next to her, taking silent advantage of not having to rise with the sun for once.

She watched him lying there with his mouth slightly parted, his breathing deep and slow. At times she still found it hard to believe that they were in the same bed. Finn's promise of marriage had done more for her than she wanted to admit, and he seemed surprised at the change. No longer did she gently slide away his hands when they became too familiar; she encouraged or even came seeking his touch.

Anna herself felt less surprised. She'd almost grown to hate the mad celebrations at Greengrass, where everyone felt the heady charge of spring and lovers of young and old took pleasure under the blooming trees. True there were many who were less rigid than she; each spring always brought on a sudden marriage, much to the delight of the gossips. They said a lass could easily pick her man at Greengrass, and one claim, whether true or not, could land a girl a husband by summer. But Anna never could bring herself to take a young lad's hand and venture into the green, however much she wanted to. She was waiting, waiting for a day that never seemed to come.

Watching him sleep more gentle feelings washed over her. Anna felt stilled by the tenderness of Finn's affection; it seemed to smooth out the snarls in his temper, and apart from the odd tankard with his work-mates he thankfully now spared most of the ale.

That red anger that always seemed to bubble beneath the surface had mellowed since they left the city, there was no denying that. He laughed easily and seemed merry even when exhausted from his day. She thought Finn must have been that way when he was still surrounded by the peace of Candlekeep, before death began to stalk him like a hidden predator.

But hints of it remained—lurking in sharp words or in his eyes as they stared off into the air, seeing things that Anna could not. She tried to ignore it; the horror of that summer had left a dark imprint on her, too. Perhaps as Mella said they could grow together, leaning on each other for strength.

...

Finn's eyes opened and he smiled sleepily at her.

"Now, there's something worth waking up for."

Anna smiled back and snuggled up closer to him. Pressed against his body she felt her warmth begin to rise. She curled a leg around his, caressing it lightly with her toes. Finn nuzzled at her neck, placing little kisses down her skin where her shift's collar hung open. He drew his arms around her but paused hearing a heavy step slowly rising up the stairs.

They looked at each other in frustrated amusement as Maya's sharp rap summoned Imoen from her sleep. The housekeeper had taken the girl's proper development onto her shoulders, and demanded the hapless child go gather up eggs for breakfast. Imoen's reply hung on the borderline of civility but even she didn't dare challenge the imperious matron. Maya trundled back downstairs and after a number of muttered curses and banging of furniture Imoen soon followed.

"Guess we'd better get up and all," Finn said. "She'll be up here for me to chop wood next."

He rolled over and flopped onto his back. Anna let out a long sigh. She'd never thought of her little cottage as lacking in privacy—after all, more than one family in the district shared a single room—but she felt it now.

"I'm going to town straight after breakfast," Finn said, crawling out of bed. "Do you want to come?"

Anna twitched and her mood shifted.

"No. You—go ahead. I'll need to help Maya in the kitchen, anyway."

"Alright," Finn said, not noticing her tone. "Just think—when I come back I'll be in the Flaming Fist! You can be proud of me then."

"I'm proud of you now," she said, surprised.

"Prouder, then," he replied with a grin. "You're...still alright with this, aren't you?"

Anna nodded but she had little to say in reply. They dressed and made their way downstairs. The stormy tension between Maya and Imoen plus Anna's grim mood made for a silent breakfast table, and Finn alone seemed jovial. After the meal he kissed Anna lightly and she stood at the door, watching him striding down the lane.

...

Imoen likewise set off down to Sophie's farm on some errand, tromping away like an angry child. Anna set to washing the crocks while Maya tended to the fire.

"Needs to get good and quick for baking," the housekeeper said. "By the Mother, it'll be hot in here today. Almost be a relief to get frost."

Anna didn't reply—she was thinking about Finn walking away down the road.

She put the crocks away and pinned her apron over her dress. She mixed up a rich dough with dried currants, honey and spices and set it to rise. Normally she only brought a plain loaf to the festival, but this year she wanted something special.

The dough rose and Finn still didn't return. She wondered what could be keeping him, and part of her hoped he'd changed his mind. A small part; she knew him too well for that. Anna dusted flour onto the table and rolled the dough into a long tube, which she twisted around and around into an endless circle—a love knot, made out of bread.

She set the loaf to rise again and wandered out of the house. The day was warm and clear but a haze was gathered on the horizon, and the weather felt like it was holding something back.

"It's too bright, ain't it?"

She turned to see Maya, wiping her hands on her apron and looking up at the sky.

"I was just thinking the same," Anna said.

"Something's stirring now, I can feel it," Maya said quietly. "Even the creatures are acting odd these days. If I had the wings of a bird I'd fly away from here. My grandma always did say this coast was cursed. The gods help me, but sometimes I think she was right."

Anna stared at her; even for Maya the portent was a strange one. She looked back out over the golden fields and shuddered.

"Oh, don't mind me," she said, noticing her look. "I'm just getting old. Every year the wind sinks a bit deeper into my bones. You two will have a good life here, at least if I've got anything to say on it. Why don't you get a few turnips from the garden? I'll make us a pottage for supper."

Anna squeezed her hand and the housekeeper gave her a little smile. She took up a bucket and went down the short slope to the vegetable patch. Rows of purple-tops peeked out of the dirt, their prickly green leaves fluttering like little flags in the breeze. She plucked a few from their rest but looked up seeing a flash of red at the edge of the garden.

...

Finn paused by the house but noticed her standing amongst the vegetables. She stood quiet and still as he made his way down the slope, trying to make sense of his new appearance.

"It's done, then," Anna said, regarding his crimson jerkin.

Finn tugged at it, looking both self-conscious and pleased at the same time.

"Aye. I signed on for three years," he said. "Vai said she'd count my militia training and guard duty as part of my experience, but I still need to go out on patrol for a fortnight before she'll give me a rank."

_Three years, _Anna thought with a shiver. But she only nodded her head.

"And here, I...got you something in town."

Finn had that sheepish expression again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a leather pouch. He opened it and Anna's heart jumped as he drew out a small circle of gold.

He took her hand in his and she felt the cool touch of the ring sliding over her third finger. They both stood silently, watching it glisten on her hand.

"Does it fit alright?" he asked.

"Yes," Anna said, twisting the circle. "It fits fine."

It was a simple band, with the warm yellow gold woven like two intertwined rings. Its weight felt strange on her hand but she liked it there.

"I measured your finger with a bit of string when you were sleeping," Finn said, laughing a little.

Anna looked at him in surprise but laughed as well.

"Sneaky fellow. It's beautiful, though...thank you."

"Anything for you," Finn said, clearing his throat. "But, listen...they told me I've got to ride out, the day after tomorrow."

Her happiness fell like a stone. She stared at him and he looked miserable.

"Two days?" she croaked. "Finn, I didn't think..."

"I know, I know," he said. "It surprised me too. I thought they'd give me till after the festival, but Merion's keen to ride out now."

"But how are we supposed to...we won't be able to have any kind of wedding at all," Anna said.

She threw up her hands in frustration and Finn wrapped his arms around her.

"I know. I'm sorry. Look...keep the ring until I get back. It'll only be a fortnight, I'll be home before you know it. There's no real rush, I suppose—we can have a nice little wedding then."

"But...the Harvestide will be over by the time you get back," she said.

"Maybe that's a good thing?" he remarked. "With the harvest in we can have all the neighbours around. We could have a good old knees-up."

"No, we can't," Anna said absently. "It's bad luck. We can't. We'd have to wait until spring."

He looked at her in surprise. Anna glanced down and twisted the ring on her finger.

"Well, what do you want to do?"

She drew a deep breath.

"Mella is coming here tomorrow, to give the autumn blessing. I suppose we could..."

"Alright..." he said quietly. "Tomorrow it is, then."

She looked up and saw a soft smile on his face. Finn pulled her close and they held each other for a long time.

...

It was a silent group that made their way up to the standing stone on Watcher's Hill. The battered grey monolith was old—older than Beregost, older perhaps than even the ruined school at Ulcaster. No one was entirely sure who set it there, but as the sun moved in the year its shadow cast along a circle of smaller stones, marking the position of the solstices and equinoxes with perfect accuracy.

A crowd of people waited for the sun to reach its zenith, and the sounds of laughter mixed with the music of pipe and tabor. The Blessing of the Loaves was a Chauntean festival but it remained popular with all worshippers as a starting point for the celebrations at Harvestide. Anna spotted Kelddath Ormlyr with his grand golden cape mixing with the crowd; the followers of Lathander marked the sun festivals with as much vigour as the Chaunteans, and a friendly rivalry existed between the two.

"I see Berla waving to me," Maya said. "I'm going to have a chat."

The housekeeper set off to talk with her equally-rotund sister. Anna sighed; Maya had not been pleased with the news that there'd be a wedding on the morrow, and her prognostications reached a fever pitch.

"I think I'll go mingle, too," Imoen said. "See you in a bit!"

She adjusted her blue dress, and Anna noticed she'd sewn a new trim of lace and ribbon on the frock. The neckline also looked somehow lower than she remembered. Imoen skipped away and Anna's eyebrow raised.

"Well, looks like just the two of us, then," Finn said. "Not that I'm complaining. Care to have a bit of a reel?"

He gestured to a group of young people who were dancing across the grass. Anna shook her head.

"No. Not right now."

Idly she unwrapped her loaf, as if to check if it were still in the cloth. Finn seemed to read something in her expression.

"It's going to be all right, love. I know all this is sudden...does my head in too sometimes. But everything will settle in soon. And hey...we're getting married tomorrow."

Anna looked up at him and smiled at his wide grin.

"Do you mind having a Chauntean ceremony?" she asked.

"No, why would I?" Finn said. "I don't know much about Oghma's wedding rites, but I can't think they'd be too sentimental. 'With this tome of knowledge I thee wed...' No, ta."

Anna laughed. "Careful, now. You don't want to offend anyone."

"Don't worry—I'll say a prayer later, and thank him for giving me the brains to marry you."

She smiled but shook her head; though she never said anything, it worried her at times that Finn seemed to have little true attachment to his god. Perhaps Gorion's faith didn't really suit him. Now that they were marrying she secretly wished he would express a devotion to Chauntea, but the Earthmother didn't seem like a natural fit, either. It troubled her, but she tried to push it aside.

They found Mella and Anna nervously told her of their plans; the priestess seemed surprised, but not overly so. She agreed to perform the service and Anna felt a strange kind of stillness in knowing it was done.

...

Mella left them and stood at the base of the stone, calling the crowd around her as she began the rite. She wore robes of white that day with a golden sash to symbolise the harvest. A woven wreath of wheat and berries covered her silver hair, and she raised her staff of corn to the air as she invoked the presence of the goddess.

"Dear Mother Chauntea, whom in the younger days of the world men called Jannath—we ask that your blessing grace these humble loaves that your children have made with their own hands, made from the grain that you love so much, which is your gift to us all. In making them we thank you for another harvest of bounty, but as they nourish us we are reminded that the pleasures of life are fleeting. For though the harvest brings great joy, it is the beginning of the end of the year, and soon all will wither under the cold embrace of snow."

Mella paused for breath, and glanced at Anna and Finn with a smile.

"But this is no time for despair. All are connected within the great circle, bound together in endless rings. No one thing can stand on its own. The falling leaves will nourish the earth, and like the leaves we will be born again. As winter follows autumn, so too will come the spring. Take pleasure in the world in all her faces, and remember your Mother's gift to you."

Anna and Finn's hands found one another. The priestess finished her blessing and Anna felt a beautiful warmth descending over the hill, a secure kindness like the tender gaze of the mother she had long since lost. She tried to hold on to that feeling, wishing it would last forever. But the crowd began to stir and she came back to earth.

Mella stepped aside and joined her family, and Governor Ormlyr took her place. He called forth a blessing of Lathander on the crowd then began to speak.

"Greetings, good citizens—while my words will never be as eloquent as Pastoral Mella's, I beg you to indulge them for a time."

Kelddath cleared his throat and Anna forced down a wry look; modesty was never the Dawnmaster's strong suit.

"We gather here today as we have for generations, to mark the equinox and the equal halves of day and night. As the good pastoral has said, the Harvestide marks the slide of the sun into the darkness of winter. At the solstice day he will be reborn, and the Morninglord's light will strengthen even as the earth is frozen with cold. But until then the light will ebb, and the darkness shall grow stronger. I mention these things today not only as articles of faith. We remain faced with a darkness of our own, one we are all painfully familiar with."

He drew a breath and the crowd shifted, worried and wondering about his statement.

"Although I cannot share as much as I would like, Officer Vai has informed me that we will be playing host to more mercenaries of the Flaming Fist in the month ahead. And while she assures me that there is no immediate threat to our town, she asks that we remain vigilant, and focus as much as we can on our training at arms. She knows this is a difficult time of year—"

"What's all this, then?" a man interrupted. "No disrespect to you, Gov'nor, but we all know the Dukes wouldn't do that on a whim. What's going on?"

"Now—" Kelddath began.

"It's Amn, ain't it?" a woman cried. "We should've known them devils wouldn't leave us be. They've always wanted Beregost for themselves!"

A chorus of worried voices broke out but Kelddath raised his hands.

"Good people, please!" he called. "No one takes the safety of this town more seriously than I. If I thought for one moment we were in danger I wouldn't keep it to myself. You can all go about your daily business. The priests of the Morninglord are on guard. Just...be aware that there may be changes."

"What sort of changes?" another man cried.

"Please," the priest repeated, holding up his hand. "Do not trouble yourselves on this—likely it will all come to nothing. But we must face the morning with whatever it will bring."

The crowd hardly seemed satisfied by his response, but he refused to say any more on the matter. Ormlyr's words cast a shadow over the festivities and a fair number of families walked towards home much earlier than usual. Anna gave Finn a worried look.

"I don't know anything," he said, shaking his head. "Vai said something about clearing the land around the Fist's base, but I figured that was just a precaution. It's nothing to worry about, though—the Dawnmaster said so."

Anna thought he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. She suddenly felt the heat of the noon sun bearing painfully down on her.

"Can we go for a walk?" she said. "I want to go somewhere cool."

"That's a good idea," Finn said.

...

They said parting words to Mella and Maya. Imoen was mixed in with a group of young people and she seemed merry enough that they didn't want to bother her. They wandered down the hill and took up the path of a small stream that went winding through the meadows. Soon it found its way into a little copse and they rested in the shade.

They shared the love-knot and drank a fruity cordial. The taste of it reminded Anna of the lost summer and she felt a tinge of sadness. She glanced at the ring on her finger and sighed without realising.

"Don't worry. Better times are coming, no matter what he said," Finn remarked.

Anna smiled. "I never knew you were such an optimist."

"Well, I never had cause to be before," he grinned.

"I wish my aunt and family could be here," she said thoughtfully. "She doesn't even know I'm getting married."

"Haven't you written to her?" Finn said, surprised.

"No. It's so far to the Dales we only write a couple times a year. I wrote to her just before you came in the spring—she doesn't even know I was away."

Anna laughed to herself over the thought. All she'd been through, and her innocent aunt would just assume she'd been at home tending to her garden.

"Maybe next year I can get some leave, and we can go visit," he offered. "I'd like to see it."

"Oh, I'd love that," she said, perking up at the thought. "But what about you, though? You must have someone in Candlekeep who'd want to know you're getting married. Why don't you write to them?"

Finn grimaced. "No, there's nobody. It doesn't matter anyway—I'm not going back there."

"What, never? It's your home. Besides, I thought one of the advantages of our marriage was that you might take me to Candlekeep's hallowed halls some day."

She tried to joke but his face remained grim.

"It's not my home anymore," he stated. "And there isn't—oh, let's just leave it, alright?"

"Alright," Anna said.

Finn stared off into the treetops and Anna took another sip of cordial. She couldn't imagine feeling so hostile to a place that raised her for so many years.

"Is it because you think they'll blame you? For Gorion," she said quietly.

He twitched. "No, and I don't care if they do. I'm not going back there, is all, and you can forget about it."

She frowned at his tone but said nothing else. He seemed to regret his words and sat up, wrapping his arms around her. Anna leaned back against his chest and listened to the songs of birds echo through the colouring trees, watching the afternoon pass by.

...

_"Oh, ow! _Imoen—"

"Sorry! Just hold still, will you?"

Anna felt her cheeks growing red, though not from the excited flush of a bride. She winced in pain again as the girl tried to find the perfect angle for the precarious wreath of autumn leaves and berries she'd manufactured.

"Bother, your hair's snagged on it again," Imoen muttered. "Can't you just wear it down? It would make everything so much easier."

"I don't know...I'm not a maid of eighteen. Besides, it's rather breezy out there today."

"Don't remind me," Imoen remarked. _"Drat! _That's it, I don't care what you say—you're wearing your hair down."

Anna let out a pained sigh as Imoen snatched away the wreath and began undoing her braids. She stared at her reflection in the glass as the girl busied herself with the brush.

Her wedding day was here. She kept repeating that fact to herself, but for some reason it didn't want to register. Perhaps because it arrived so quickly. How long since Finn proposed? Less time than some women took to plan their wedding, and yet—here it was.

Anna didn't feel nervous. Rather it all seemed strange, like an unexpected visitor in the house. A difference, a presence. Nothing would be the same after this. But then, nothing had been the same for a long time.

Imoen took the hair at her temples and began braiding it back, winding a length of golden ribbon in with her hair. It did look pretty, and so did her dress, the autumn coloured silk she bought in Baldur's Gate. Maya had altered it so the bodice fit well, and with her crinolines the skirt swept out in a short train as it should. It seemed to perfectly suit a harvest wedding, and she wondered at the coincidence. Perhaps things had been arranging themselves all along.

She wondered too about Finn, dressing now in Imoen's chamber. He woke her up like an enthusiastic child and they laughed endlessly together in bed. If only things could stay that way. But he would leave in the morning and there was nothing either of them could do.

"Oh, smile will you?" Imoen suddenly said. "It's your wedding day. Sunny, too—and happy is the bride the sun shines on."

"I thought it would rain," Anna said, examining Imoen's progress in the glass.

"Perish the thought. You don't think I'd let it rain on my brother's wedding, do you? I told those clouds right where to go!"

She made a rude gesture towards the window and Anna had to laugh.

"That's better," Imoen said. "No long faces today. Anyone frowns, I'm going to go after them with a switch. Just so you know."

Anna smiled. "I know, I'm sorry. I just...was thinking about Finn."

Imoen's mouth narrowed.

"I don't know what he's thinking. The Flaming Fist? Though he's talked about being a soldier since I don't know when. But I'm sure he'll be just fine. Besides, you're lucky—it'll keep him out of your hair for awhile, and we can sneak off to the taverns and admire the bards' backsides."

She gave Anna a naughty look and she had to laugh.

"Is that what you've been doing, then?"

"Not a bard, no," she said lightly. "Though there are some nice ones around."

"Bards, or backsides?" Anna remarked.

"Both!"

Anna chuckled, and she thought Imoen's face looked pink.

"So, who is he, then?"

"Who?"

"Oh, come now. You know who I mean. Maya's going to have a fit if you keep sneaking away to see him."

"He's—just a lad. Not much to write home over."

_"Mm. _You seemed to get over Ajantis rather quickly," Anna said, more seriously.

Imoen's face looked rather sour.

"Yeah, well. He was so _nice _to me. That was the worst bit."

"It is dreadful when men are kind," she replied archly.

"I didn't mean it like that. But I almost wished he'd have been a haughty bastard. It just drove home how much of a love-struck little child he thought I was. Little Imoen, pat on the head. It's like he didn't take me seriously at all. But I was serious..." she said, pursing her lips as she braided. "But I learned that you can't feel that way if the fellow doesn't like you back. So why worry? I just moved on."

Anna sighed. "I wonder if he's married now."

"I don't know," Imoen declared. "But I feel a bit sorry for his wife. He doesn't have any fire in him—I tried holding his hand once and it was like I handed him a dead fish. I'm not _that _bad, I know."

Anna said nothing; never would she admit their own awkward kiss.

...

"But here—that's better."

Imoen smiled and slipped the wreath back onto Anna's head. The gold and red did look nice against her hair, and she touched it delicately.

"I look something like an elf," Anna said.

"Let's hope not—then you'd have to get married in the nude."

"What? Elves don't—do they?"

"Gotcha!" Imoen laughed.

Anna joined in and rose up cautiously so as not to upset her crown. Imoen looked nice too in her pretty dress, with a wreath of field-daisies and ribbons decorating her auburn hair. She stood there smiling at Anna, and in spite of her pranks she was glad they would be sisters.

"Well...I heard Finn go downstairs already," Imoen said, trying to wipe the grin off her face.

"Yes, I suppose we should..._oh_, _my,"_ Anna replied.

The enormity of what she was going downstairs for suddenly hit her, and her face turned bright red.

Imoen's eyes narrowed. "If you faint, I'm dragging you down there by your toes."

"Toes, not hair?" Anna muttered.

"After all that work? I don't think so!"

Anna laughed. She risked the fruits of Imoen's labour to give her a hug, and the two women made their way to the stairs.

...

She hardly saw how nice the garden looked in the autumn sunshine, nor how Maya's grave smile concealed a brightness in her eye. She didn't see the flowers Imoen gave her, nor Mella's kind looks as she greeted her. She barely even saw Finn, handsome and beaming in his good clothes. She grasped his hand in hers and watched as Mella bound them together with a crimson cord.

Anna barely saw any of it, but she felt it burning deep within. Finn held her hand tight, so tight she almost felt his heart beating. He turned to her and her eyes seemed to open, sparkling though they were with bright tears. Finn drew her close and they had their first kiss as husband and wife.

...

They'd pulled the kitchen table onto the grass and Maya even consented to cover it with her fine lace tablecloth for the occasion. Much to Anna's dismay the housekeeper had spent half the night in a frenzy of baking, and the table groaned with the best things she could prepare. So much food lined the cloth that there was barely room for the diners' elbows. It was a merry little group though and they did their best to make an impression on the feast.

Mella's husband kept them laughing with tales of an escaped calf at a neighbour's recent wedding, and Imoen seemed determined to fire off every joke she could remember. Finn kept his arm around his new bride, making jokes of his own in a keen merriment. Anna smiled and laughed but she felt too shy to say much.

At last Mella proposed a toast to the couple, but Finn halted her and hurried inside. Anna wondered but her face bloomed out into a smile when he returned.

"Here, I heard these were a tradition, so..."

He held out a delicately carved wooden cup, with two handles sweeping away at the sides. Mella nodded at him with a smile and poured wine into the vessel.

"Finn, you made a wedding cup?" Anna said. "I'd forgotten—and I didn't think you'd know about them."

As the followers of Chauntea were often poor farmers, the bridegroom would give his bride a cup in place of a ring. The happy couple would drink together on their marriage, and the cup would have a place of honour in the house. On their anniversary the cup would fill again to remind them of their wedding day.

"I know a few things," Finn said, smiling. "Just a few, mind."

Anna laughed. She took the cup and they both held it in their hands, drinking in turn of the sweet wine.

"And the Mother's blessing be upon you both," Mella said. "A long and fruitful union."

Anna beamed at her and the priestess smiled back.

"Aye, good blessings to you. But we should be off now, Mel—the wee ones will be sleepy," Hector said.

Mella agreed, and they bade the priestess goodbye with thanks and well-wishes. She and her husband walked back together through the fields, holding hands as they made their way to their own farm. Maya looked at the table and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Well, that weren't too bad. Not bad for a little wedding. Come along now, Imoen, and let's get this table cleared—I'm sure the little ones will be clamouring for some of this pie."

Imoen and the housekeeper had quietly arranged to spend the night at Maya's daughter's, to leave Anna and Finn to themselves on their wedding night. Anna went to help but Maya shooed her away.

"Do you think I'd have the bride washing crocks? We'll tend to it. Why don't you and your new husband there go on a little walk? It's a nice eve."

...

It was indeed—the sun hung lazily over the western horizon, colouring the sky in remarkable shades of orange, pink and gold. For some reason Anna thought of the sea, and how beautiful that sunset would look from the cliffs. But the view over the Beregost hills was fine enough for that night.

They set off arm-in-arm down the lane, walking slowly to nowhere in particular. Finn grasped her hand in a little squeeze.

"Well...Missus Finnigan."

He looked at her with a crooked, happy little smile.

"Yes, Master Delainis? Or is it Whitehaven? I forget."

Anna laughed and Finn tweaked her nose.

"Cheeky lady. As long as it's not fishmonger!"

"It's a mercenary," she said quietly.

"I'm your fellow first," he said. "Don't forget that."

Anna leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close as they walked.

The light was fading and the air cool by the time they came back to the house. Maya and Imoen said their farewells, though not without a few tears—Imoen would not see her brother till he came home. Soon though they departed, carrying between them a mule's load of food, and Finn and Anna were left alone.

They stepped into the kitchen and bolted the door behind them. True to form Maya had finished every last speck of housework, and there was nothing for her to do. Anna went upstairs quietly. Entering their chamber she paused and smiled; Imoen had decorated the room with the last of the summer flowers. Crocks were filled with bouquets and bunches of posies hung from the bedposts, sending a light scattering of petals over the pillows. Anna removed her own battered crown and set it on the bureau.

She turned hearing the door open. Finn appeared there, holding a candle in his grasp. The light caught his eyes and he smiled at her, a tired but tender smile. Anna responded in kind. She went to him, and lost herself in his deep embrace.

...

Morning arrived wearing shades of deep grey, like an old widow. Anna lay still in bed, listening to the faint tapping of rain against the glass. The air felt cold and she pulled the covers closer over her bare body.

Finn turned his head to look at her. She tried to smile and he caressed her cheek.

"Hey, missus," he said quietly.

Anna reached for him and sunk her head into his chest. Finn held her tight, rocking her lightly in his grasp.

"I've got to go."

His face looked grim, as if the reality of those words had just come to him. They dressed quietly. She slipped into her old work frock and Finn put on extra woollen layers. He pulled on his padded jacket, repaired at least for the time being. Anna helped him slide his chain shirt over his head, and slowly he drew on his new red livery. He strapped his dagger to his leg and fixed his sword belt on tight.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she asked absently.

"No, love, I'm fine."

Anna wandered downstairs. His gear was where he left it, ready and waiting beside the kitchen door. Finn followed her down, the old stairs creaking from the extra weight of his armour. With a deep breath he drew open the heavy door.

The world outside was weeping. A heavy mist fell, hiding the hills and making the brown leaves sag under its weight. The cold brought ghosts drifting from their mouths. With a grunt Finn hoisted up his heavy pack and set it on his shoulders.

"I'll be back before you know it," he said. "Don't worry about a thing."

"You keep saying that," Anna replied.

A little choke caught in her throat. Finn rested his hands on her cheeks.

"I know. But it's true. Smile for me, won't you? I want to remember my beautiful bride."

She did her best. Finn gave her a kiss, then looked at her with a grin.

"You were wearing that dress the first time I saw you," he said.

"Well, if I'd known my future husband had come to call I might have put on my silk," Anna said, chuckling slightly. "Or at least brushed my hair."

Finn's smile widened and he kissed her again.

"Well, I'd better be off. I'm not much looking forward to saddle-sores, though."

"Wait..." Anna said.

She reached into her bodice and pulled out the little velvet pouch, putting it into his gauntlet.

"Take this...I want you to take it."

Finn opened the pouch, and his reaction was much like hers.

"Is that a rogue stone?" he asked. "Fecking hells, woman—did you steal this from somewhere?"

"Of course not," Anna said sharply. "Never mind where it came from. Just...take it."

"Gods," Finn said, still amazed. "But I can't take this. You should have it."

He tried to press it back into her hand but she shook her head.

"No. I want you to have it," she repeated. "If you need it, say 'Beregost' aloud and will yourself here. You'll be teleported in an instant."

"Alright," he said slowly.

He wrapped the cord around his neck and tucked the pouch under his armour. Anna didn't know what the elf would say about her passing his gift on, but she felt better for it. Finn kissed her one final time, deeply but quick. He drew his hood up against the rain and walked swiftly out the garden gate, down the road towards Beregost.

Anna went out into the wet, trying to keep sight of him for as long as she could. Too quickly though his cloak faded into the mist and there was nothing left but the grey world.

She stood there, shivering but paying no mind to the cold drops that traced down her face. Eventually she forced herself back into the empty kitchen. The house seemed still and nervous, frightened of being left alone. Anna sat down at the table. The faint light caught her ring and it startled her. She ran her hands through her wet hair, and her body began to shake with sobs.


	71. Eyes of the World

The rain continued for that day and the next. In its wake it left more bright autumn sun though it seemed to have a cooler cast than before. Anna felt empty. The soft blue skies were dull and the fruit she gathered seemed to have no taste, no scent. Maya in her practicality suggested that the mage might be coming down with a cold, and she dosed her with repeated servings of elderberry tonic. Anna felt otherwise but she took the medicine without complaint.

By contrast Imoen seemed the height of joviality. There wasn't a wagon ride or cider-making party in the neighbourhood that wasn't graced by her presence and she revelled in the fun. She and a handful of local girls travelled around in a pack of bright-coloured homespun and lace, singing songs and decorating the festive hillsides like birds.

Anna was glad Imoen had settled in so well, but she wondered at times if her strict determination to have a good time wasn't covering up for something. When they were at work together Anna would notice her standing and staring out the window with a thoughtful, almost pained expression. But she left the girl to her thoughts, just as she left Anna to hers.

Beyond their own little household troubles though there seemed cause for tension. Governor Ormlyr's words had put the town on edge, tearing open old scars that people had hoped were healed. Everywhere people hurried to gather up what was left of the season, and the poor gleaners found their pickings to be even more slim than usual.

Anna would pause in her work to watch the geese flying from the frost. Their mobile V-shapes traversed the lengths of forest and field in moments, leaving behind them nothing but their echoing cries. It reminded her of Maya's words. But none of them had wings; they had to stay, and make the most of whatever they could.

She sat up late for three nights alone in her workroom, winding together charms of rowan sticks and herbs. Anna etched the wood with runes, using the wards that her father had taught her long ago. In the light of the moon she went into the garden. With arcane words and prayers she buried the charms along the boundaries, calling on them to protect the house and all within.

When her work was done she stood and looked up at the moon. It hung low over the black forms of the trees, yellow and strange in the misty sky. A breeze blew past and she heard the leaves drifting away in its grasp. The Witch of Uktar was somewhere hiding beyond that moon, waiting for pleasant Marpenoth to take her leave, and soon her breath would drive all the leaves before her in fear like frightened children.

Anna pulled her shawl closer. Though she loved the world in all her seasons the month of Uktar was not one she favoured. The flat grey clouds would come then, covering forest and field like the hair of a hag. The trees would stand shivering, naked, whispering to one another with groaning branches as they waited for the first blast of snow.

All the birds and creatures knew well to find the safety of their dens. But how often had Anna been out walking, caught unawares by a sudden swirl of white scudding across the dead ground and hiding the trees? Childish though it was she could never escape the idea that the witch was trying to catch her, that she would swoop down and spirit her off without anyone ever knowing her fate. She would pull up her hood and run for home as swiftly as her feet could take her.

She shuddered, frightened for a moment by unseen things. But Uktar was not yet here. Anna stared at the moon and slowly another feeling crept over her. A determination, a will, burning like a low candle flame inside her. She had something to protect now—a love, and a family that she hadn't known before. And whatever lay over that horizon, she did not intend to stand by and watch her world being broken again.

The Harvest Festival came and every hill was lit by flickering bonfires. Anna stayed at home while Imoen and Maya attended the festivities, pleading her case with a mostly fictional headache. She had little interest in dancing, music or cider, and sat listening instead to the faint hiss of the logs in the fire. Idly she fingered her newly-made star of straw, with its golden arms stretching out like the wheel of the sun. She considered the fate of the last one in the depths of the Cloakwood Mine. Hopefully this one would have a happier existence.

...

The fourteen empty days passed. Anna grew restless, nervous, frequently going into her chamber to watch the town road. At last though a red-liveried figure appeared on the lane, walking with tired but determined steps. Anna flew down the stairs, threw open the kitchen door and ran straight into Finn's open arms.

"Miss me much?" he laughed when they finally broke off from their eager kisses.

"Not too much," she replied, wiping the mist from her eyes.

Finn smiled back at her, his own face beaming.

"But what is this?" Anna said.

She ran her hands over the dark beard that now covered his cheeks, shaking her head in suppressed laughter.

"Oh, well...it's a hassle shaving on the road, and with no lady to impress I just let it go," he said apologetically. "What do you think?"

He scratched his neck and Anna's eyebrow raised.

"You look like a different person."

"Mightn't be a bad thing, aye?" Finn replied.

"I don't know," she said dubiously. "I rather liked you before. Besides, it tickles!"

His eyes twinkled. "Then it's definitely staying."

Before Anna could reply they were interrupted by a screeching Imoen, who came running up to give her brother a hug. The three of them went back into the house with Finn hardly able to catch a word between Imoen's questions. Anna though just squeezed his hand in happiness.

Finn's homecoming brought a new energy into the house and even Maya seemed pleased enough to see him. "You ain't been killed after all,"she said, though from her it sounded like a compliment. The housekeeper stirred up an early supper while Finn elaborated on the tales of his first patrol.

Whether for Anna's benefit or not he made it sound like a rather pedestrian affair; most of their work involved escorting caravans or hunting down rumoured beasts and bandits who menaced local populations. Judging from his tales it seemed Finn hardly drew his sword at all though the state of his clothes seemed to suggest otherwise. Anna though forced herself to sigh; Finn was home, and that was all that truly mattered to her just then.

"I've got five days' leave, then we ride out again," he said at last.

He wiped his mouth and set down the clay mug, avoiding Anna's eyes.

"Five? But you said..."

"I know, but it's two tendays on and one off. I've only been gone a fortnight. By rights we should've been out longer but Merion seemed pretty keen to get back to Beregost."

Anna looked back down at her plate and didn't reply.

"But listen, I'm getting my commission the day after tomorrow," he announced, brighter than before. "You all should come down to headquarters with me—they're having a little do."

She nodded and tried to smile. The evening passed quickly in talk but Finn announced that he was going to bed before the sun even dipped below the horizon. He had a bath in the pantry then retreated upstairs. Anna followed him up and she couldn't help but notice that he groaned a little in pain while undressing.

"Nothing to worry about," Finn said cheerfully, sensing her eyes. "Still not used to riding, is all. I think the poor horse was glad to be rid of me and all."

"You act like your ribs hurt," she replied.

Anna set the candle on the bedside table and looked at him. Finn collapsed down onto the feathers with a loud sigh.

"Well, those hobgoblins can really swing a mace. Don't worry, I'll be right as rain after a good night's sleep. Hells, the lads were shocked I could even stand—never mind. Damn, but it's nice to have a bed again!"

Anna hung up her dress and crawled in next to him.

"Are you really all right?" she said seriously.

Finn turned to look at her.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Doing really well, now."

He tugged knowingly on one of her braids and she gave him a look.

"You seem rather spry for an injured man," Anna said, running a finger over his new beard.

"Maybe I'm not hurt at all, eh? Just trying to get a bit of sympathy from nurse!"

He laughed though Anna knew better. But the return of the scent that had faded from his pillow triggered something in her, and she gladly took him in her arms.

...

Anna watched Finn keenly the next day. He would often pause to stretch his back as he worked on building up the dwindling woodpile but otherwise he seemed hale as he claimed. She sighed and tried to remind herself that her husband had abilities most men didn't, although she preferred not to focus on that fact much, either.

The day after they all made their way into town for Finn's ceremony. For the occasion Maya donned her good brown cap and best dress, a maroon frock that always made her look something like a giant berry. Finn looked fine in his freshly pressed and repaired uniform, Anna had to admit, and she felt a quiet sort of pleasure in the fact that he finally consented to shave for the occasion. She smiled up at him as they hurried down the road and he grinned back.

Governor Ormlyr's prophecies had come true in one regard, and Anna stared in surprise at the number of makeshift tents set up around the Flaming Fist base. Everywhere red jerkins milled about on their business and Finn called out in greeting to a few.

"The Mother preserve us—what's all this?" Maya said. "It's half an army here."

"Hardly that—there's not more than a few hundred men all told," Finn said matter-of-factly. "But there's more than the stockade can house now, for certain. The Dukes just want a strong presence on the southern road in case the leftover bandits start to get any ideas. Nothing to worry about."

Anna thought he'd been saying that a great deal lately, but she kept it to herself. The sentries on the gate allowed them to pass and directed them to where a small group of townsfolk and mercenaries already waited. Anna, Maya and Imoen edged their way onto the rough benches that had been set up for the occasion, while Finn took his place in the rank at the front.

After a few minutes an officer called the waiting mercenaries to attention. From the officers' farmhouse stepped Captain Merion, an officer that Anna didn't recognise, and a woman she knew by sight as Officer Vai.

The Beregost commander was surprisingly slight of frame for one in such a position, but she walked with enough purpose and had a keen enough eye to easily keep even the burliest of mercenaries in line. Her grey-flecked brown hair was swept up into a simple knot and apart from the ceremonial gold sash there was little to distinguish her from any of the rank and file mercenaries; the Flaming Fist generally didn't care to call attention to their officers for their own safety.

Officer Vai examined the mercenaries then spoke a few words to the assembled townsfolk, making the expected pleasantries in a straightforward tone. Afterwards she began to walk down the line, handing out various commissions.

A man and a woman earned the rank of captain but the rest were made lieutenants. Amongst them Anna noted with interest a few young local men, who also must have been new recruits to the Flaming Fist. Perhaps the militia had more than one purpose, after all. At last Vai addressed Lieutenant Finnigan, who did an admirable job of keeping his grin at bay as she handed him his sash and a fine new dagger.

...

Afterwards the meek farming families and outspoken merchants mingled with the mercenaries over a simple lunch that had been set up for the occasion. Tarts, cold meats and boiled eggs were downed and backs were slapped in congratulations. Anna found it all a bit overwhelming somehow, and wandered off to stand by the old stone well as she nibbled on a tart. Finn mixed happily with his new comrades but it didn't take him long to notice that his wife had drifted away from the crowd.

"Thirsty?" he asked, bounding up to her.

_"Mph," _she replied, catching a bit of tart with her tongue.

Finn hitched himself onto the well edge and nodded at the group.

"Ionar got married himself this past month," he said. "Just brought his wife down from Baldur's Gate a few days ago. He's been doing nothing but talking her up since I've known him—don't know though, she seems a bit on the round side to me."

"She's pretty," Anna remarked, glancing at the young woman in question.

Though admittedly ample of frame, she had a rosy complexion and bountiful golden curls that made Anna's hair look like old straw in comparison. The woman laughed merrily at something and Ionar lit up like a king.

"I never said she wasn't good looking," Finn replied with emphasis, though his comment was somewhat lost on his own bride.

He coughed and drew his new dagger from its sheath. He'd shown it to Anna nearly a half-dozen times already but she still looked at it with interest. It was fine work—the grip was covered in the softest leather, held in place by silver wire. The crests of the Flaming Fist and the Dukes of Baldur's Gate were etched on the narrow crossguard, with Finn's name and the year engraved on the blade. The entire dagger shimmered just slightly in the light, betraying the subtle enchantments.

"It's too nice to bring out in the field," Finn said. "Pity, that. When you make captain they even give you a sword. But I've already got one better than most of the men."

He sheathed the dagger and laid his hand on the enchanted sword on his hip, drawing it just slightly. He slid it back again with a slight chuckle.

"I've had this so long I keep forgetting it's really yours. Do you want it back?"

Anna had to smile. "No, you can keep it. Consider it an early wedding present."

Finn laughed and leaned in to kiss her, but pulled back and quickly slid off the well noticing Officer Vai and Captain Merion approaching them. He clapped his fist to his breast in a salute and the pair responded.

...

"At ease, Lieutenant," Vai said, just a hint of amusement crinkling around her eyes. "Is this your new wife? I don't think we've been introduced."

Finn replied in the affirmative and after the introductions Vai continued.

"I confess I already know of you, Mistress Whitehaven," she said. "In fact, we wanted to have a word with you about drawing up a contract to supply us with potions. It's some way from Baldur's Gate to here and the temple generally prefers to keep their potions for alms. We have our own alchemists, of course, but we could use the extra help. I'm certain it would be a good arrangement for you, if you're interested."

Finn glanced at her and Anna flushed slightly, surprised and pleased.

"Well, yes—I'd always be interested in some work. Winter is usually a slow time for me, too, with no garden to tend and most of the caravans stopped."

"Excellent," Vai replied. "Stop into base in a few days and we'll talk numbers. But in the meantime I'd better be off—there's business to attend. Merion, I'll see you shortly?"

"Yes, ma'am," the captain replied with a salute.

The commander departed and Merion shook his head with a smile.

"Good old Tess—she joined the Fist five years after me, but before you could blink we were the same rank. A proper soldier, she is. But I shouldn't be talking that way in the company of a junior officer."

His hazel eyes twinkled and he clapped Finn on the shoulder. He turned slightly red but looked pleased.

"But I see you've shaved him," Merion said to Anna. "Whipped already—I reckon that's one advantage at least to being a bachelor!"

She had to laugh watching Finn's smooth face turning deeper red. He rubbed his cheeks and gave her a look, but a small grin crept out just the same.

"Get used to it, lad," Merion chuckled. "It only gets worse, I hear. But I only tease—I'm pleased as all get out for you both. A finer lady I don't think you could find."

"Thank you, Captain," Anna managed, feeling warmer towards him than the last time they spoke.

"Sorry to pull him away from you though before you had a chance to honeymoon—I'd love to give all my boys a good holiday, but duty calls."

"Anna understands," Finn said, though she thought he sounded more hopeful than anything. She nodded and looked at the ground.

"I see several local fellows have joined your ranks, too," Anna said.

"Aye," Merion replied. "A surprising pool of talent here—lots of strong backs. Though it takes more than that to be a good soldier."

"The Flaming Fist does seem more like an army these days," she said thoughtfully.

Though the mercenary company had always acted as an unofficial standing force for Baldur's Gate, since the iron crisis they spent far less time on the private contracts that filled most of their remit. Anna heard more than one caravaner complaining that the Flaming Fist had deliberately priced themselves out of the mercenary market. Merion stiffened slightly at her words.

"Well, times have changed, ma'am. We can only change with them."

"But not too much," Finn remarked. "The Fist know how to fight in the woods and patrol the roads, but they're not much used to fighting in formation. Though they're still a long sight better than the local militia—could you imagine this bunch of half-armed farmers fighting the Amnish army? It'd be a slaughter. They'd have no chance."

"That'll do, Lieutenant."

Merion spoke quietly but firmly, and Finn glanced at him. He looked embarrassed and apologised. Anna stared at them both, wondering what had just happened.

"That's alright," the captain said. "Just remember you're an officer now. You can't just go spouting off these sorts of things to anyone."

"Not even his wife?" Anna said rather sharply.

She looked at the captain and he met her gaze.

"No offence intended to you," he said. "I know you're as trustworthy a soul as anyone could meet. But some things we keep to ourselves, if you understand."

"But there is some trouble with Amn, then?" Anna continued.

She felt her heart begin to pound, but the captain shook his head.

"Nobody said that, but in our business we need to take precautions. I trust you're not the gossiping sort, but could you imagine if one of these old farmwives overheard what Finn just said? They'd cook up a war before you knew it. Then we'd have to deal with panicked villagers as well as our usual troubles, and if Amn got wind of something—well who knows? Better to keep mum. It saves a lot of trouble in the end."

Anna looked down, feeling like a chastised child. Merion had a point but that old fear still crept over her. Finn said nothing but rubbed his neck, looking rather miserable.

Merion drew a breath. "But chins up, eh? We've got the makings of a damn fine officer here. I'll leave you lovebirds to yourselves—Officer Vai will be looking for me. I'll see you in a few days then, Lieutenant Finnigan?"

"Yes, sir," Finn said, quickly saluting the captain.

Captain Merion saluted in return. He gave Anna a quick wink and the scarred face twisted into a smile. He strode off to the farmhouse, singing a tune under his breath.

"Sorry about that, love," Finn said. "He was right, though."

"I suppose," she sighed. "But...there isn't, is there?"

Anna looked straight at him, and he looked at the ground.

"No, love. There's nothing, don't worry."

"Don't worry," she repeated.

She folded her arms, feeling her mouth turning dry. Finn drew her into a tight embrace.

"Yeah. Don't worry."

He spoke into her hair, his hot breath tickling her ear. Anna unfolded her arms and wrapped them tightly around him in turn.

...

The rest of Finn's short stay passed rather quietly. Anna tried to enjoy the fact that he was home, but her thoughts kept turning to that uncomfortable conversation in the base. There was more in Merion's tone than a simple desire to keep rumour to a minimum, she was sure. But Finn brushed off the subject and she resigned herself to quiet worry.

The nights were turning cold now and the fire in her chamber was welcome. They lay close in each other's arms, watching the low flames flickering.

"I can't believe you're leaving again tomorrow," Anna said quietly. "It seems like you've hardly been home at all."

"I know," Finn replied, kissing her bare shoulder. "But I'll be home for longer next time."

"And gone longer as well," she reminded him.

He squeezed her closer but said nothing. Anna shut her eyes as his lips softly found their way up her shoulder to her neck. She could feel her desire building again and she turned to him. Finn gave her a low smile and his kisses began tracing her breast, but he stopped and looked up at her.

"Listen...what do you think about giving the herbs a miss from now on?"

Anna felt surprised.

"Finn—do you want to?"

"Well, yeah, don't you? We're married now. No reason to wait."

He looked at her sheepishly and she caressed his hair with tender fingers.

"I'll...I'll think about it."

He grinned and continued his kisses with new enthusiasm. Anna responded but his offer shook her in a strange way, and she felt somehow distracted from their lovemaking.

...

Finn opened the door the next morning to a world pale with glittering frost. He kissed Anna goodbye and trudged again to the road, his footsteps leaving dark patches behind him. Anna stood in the tingling air, watching him go and feeling that emptiness settling in around her.

She busied herself that day with gathering up the last of the hardy vegetables in the garden, but her mind was on Finn's words. She'd thought that she would be delighted to hear him mention children—had she not wanted to be a mother since she tended to her own little rag-woven dolls? And now she was finally married, finally had a love of her own. Why should she be afraid?

_Afraid. _The thought seemed so casual, but it made her pause and stand up in her work. What was there to fear? Anna looked around at the brown garden, with the morning's frost melted by the autumn sun. It looked tranquil, at ease. As it always did. There was nothing to fear there. She glanced back up at the cottage, sitting placidly in the pale sunlight. The door opened and Maya appeared long enough to heave the basin of dirty water out onto the grass, then vanished again.

Anna forced herself to relax. There was nothing to fear. Finn would be safe, and the tensions in the region would fade. Life could be hers again. She was at home, the place she loved more than anywhere. Inside the warm kitchen her new sister Imoen was no doubt talking poor Maya's ear off, driving her to distraction. She thought of a child there too, lying bundled warm and sleepy in his cradle. The vision brought a little smile to her face, and she wanted to pull it closer. She wanted it to be real.

...

She'd intended to see Officer Vai that day but the frost delayed her enough that she put it by till tomorrow. Imoen seemed excited by the prospect and she chatted endlessly about it that evening.

"Do you think this makes me a full apprentice now?" she said.

Imoen flipped a page in the book she'd opened but neglected, considering the idea thoughtfully. Anna's eyes raised over her embroidery.

"Apprenticeships take seven years. Would you be up to that?" she asked.

Imoen bit her lip and sat up straighter.

"Yeah. I would. I've got to do something, right? And I want to be a mage."

Anna smiled slightly—coming from Imoen that was the expression of a decision. Maya though snorted.

"The real question is whether Anna'd be up to it."

Her knitting needles clicked as she hurried along on yet another pair of socks. Heavy wool socks were a panacea for the housekeeper, a preventer of all ills. Imoen grimaced but she said nothing; the girl seemed to have adjusted to Maya's ways.

Anna chuckled softly and looked back to her needlework. She drew the needle through the white linen, slowly forming a poppy with silk thread. Variegated leaves of green already awaited the flower's bloom, calling back a bit of summer onto the fabric. She did love the cosy evenings gathered around the sitting room fire; if only Finn were there as well, and not out huddled under wool by some campfire in the wilderness. Anna said a prayer in her mind, calling on Chauntea to bless him wherever he might be.

"Did you shut up the henhouse tight?" Maya asked.

"I think so," Anna replied idly, focusing on a difficult stitch.

"Well, that fox is bound to try and see. Better tend to it before he does, or there'll be nothing but feathers there in the morn."

...

Anna laid her hoop aside with a groan. Running out into the frosty night didn't appeal, but dutifully she rose up and hurried outside. The night was clear, lit by hundreds of cold-burning stars. In the west the sky was still a paler shade of blue, the last trace of the sun. She forced the latch tighter onto the henhouse door but all seemed secure. Anna turned to go back inside then froze in her tracks.

Somewhere in the corner of her eye she saw movement. Her heart leaped into her throat; no fox was there, but a figure. There by the trees—she was sure of it. For one moment she thought of her wards, but her anxious brain told her a clever wizard could disable them before they triggered. Anna stood still, frightened—what should she do? The figure moved again, plain now even in the darkness. Suddenly her voice broke out of her throat.

"Who's there?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

The figure didn't respond at first, moving forward instead with the silence of a cat. Anna could see the outline of a cloak and she stepped back, raising her hands, but the figure finally spoke.

"Calm yourself, _arwenamin. _Do you not recognise a friend?"

Anna's heart flopped and she felt like she might collapse.

_"Kivan?" _she breathed. "Oh, gods—you frightened me."

The tall elf stepped forward and pulled his hood down. Kivan it was, though to Anna's racing mind he might as well have been a ghost.

"I didn't recognise you—we don't all have eyes like yours in the night," she said, trying to force out a laugh.

"Of course. Forgive me," Kivan began. "I saw you leave the house and thought I would approach."

"It's good to see you," she said, breathing deep. "But why are you here? Come up to the house and have some wine—I could use some."

The ranger smiled in his grim way.

"Wine would be most welcome. We have been marching for many hours, but the sun sleeps early now."

"We?" Anna said. "Who else is with you?"

Almost in reply she heard other footfalls drawing nearer, quiet but not so silent as the elf. Another familiar voice spoke.

"We are here, Anna. I hope it would not inconvenience you to give shelter to a few travellers for the night?"

A wide smile broke out over the mage's face—one of surprise and relief.

"Jaheira? Khalid? Oh, I am glad to see you!"

She clasped hands with them both. Khalid seemed much his usual self, but although Jaheira smiled in return Anna thought she caught something in her eyes. Anna directed the trio into the sitting room, much to the surprise of its inhabitants. Imoen squealed and gave Khalid and Jaheira a tight hug, hesitated, then threw her arms around the stiff ranger as well. Kivan seemed taken aback but returned the girl's embrace.

...

"You should've come yesterday though," Imoen said. "You've just missed Finn!"

"Where has he gone?" Jaheira asked.

"He joined the Flaming Fist," Anna said quietly.

The druid looked startled, but she only nodded. Anna pulled up some extra chairs while Maya fetched a pitcher of spiced wine and the remains of a meat pie from the kitchen. Khalid and Jaheira gladly sat down but Kivan remained standing by the fireplace, alert as ever.

"We set out from Baldur's Gate over a tenday ago," Jaheira said in between bites. "Though we have been on foot since the Friendly Arm. Silvanus, this road seems to grow longer each time I walk it."

She stretched out a boot and adjusted the well-worn laces.

"We have been c-called down to Tethyr," Khalid continued. "The Harpers grow more concerned about the situation on their b-border with Amn."

"Is the ogre army still massing?" Anna asked.

"Yes, and the Amnish seem little able to stop it, whatever their protestations," Jaheira sighed.

"Good," Maya broke in. "It'll keep those devils distracted from us."

The housekeeper had remained mostly silent since the company arrived, but now she spoke with emphasis. Jaheira looked at her.

"Has there been more trouble with Amn? We heard that the Flaming Fist were gathering here, most unusual for them."

"No one knows," Anna said, looking at the fire. "Finn won't say anything."

Jaheira cleared her throat. "I was rather surprised to learn of his...employment."

"So was I," the mage replied.

Jaheira said nothing else, but she seemed to notice the ring on Anna's hand for the first time. The mage raised it up to the light.

"Finn and I were married last month," she said, her cheeks growing warm.

The druid's mouth opened but nothing came out. Khalid spoke quickly.

"That was quite soon," he said, friendly. "B-but we congratulate you b-both."

"Indeed," Kivan said. _"Amanien a'llie. _May there be a blessing on you and your home."

Anna smiled but she said nothing; her lip was wavering.

"So you guys are leaving?" Imoen said. "That's too bad. But where's..."

She broke off but Jaheira guessed who she meant.

"Ajantis and Xan are still in the city, or they were when we left it. Their business there still keeps them tied."

"Xan received his orders—to continue to wait," Kivan said. "A darker face I have rarely seen. I hope he may return to his city soon, but there was nothing more for me to do. I am going home."

"We were surprised when we finally came back to the city and found you gone," Jaheira said. "Even I did not think the situation there could fall apart so quickly, but that is the nature of things these days."

...

She spoke darkly and Anna looked at her.

"What happened in Cloakwood?"

The druid jerked like she'd been stabbed. Khalid drew a breath.

"The Shadow Druids were c-convinced their kin were w-working with the Iron Throne. They started a w-war against them. Eventually the good druids rallied, but n-not without the loss of many lives."

Anna stared at him.

"But what of the slaves? Did they ever make it back to the city?"

"As Khalid said—there were many losses," Jaheira said slowly.

Her fists clenched on the arms of her chair. Anna felt a cold chill run through her.

"Not all of them, surely," Imoen whispered. "Some must have escaped."

Jaheira stared into the fire, her face hard. Khalid spoke again.

"The camp that sh-sheltered us was hit badly."

He said nothing else and a silence fell over the room.

"Oh, those poor people," Imoen said. "Hadn't they been through enough?"

"But why would the Shadow Druids think the others were working with the Iron Throne?" Anna managed to ask.

"It was no accident," Jaheira spat. "Someone poured poison in their ears."

"My love, we d-don't know for certain—"

"But I do!" she cried, startling herself and the quiet room. "That was no mistake," she repeated, more quietly. "And now we are sent off to Tethyr like children. Helpless, we are always helpless as driftwood on the tide."

The room fell silent again. Imoen sat dabbing her eyes, then announced she was going to bed in a rough voice. Anna stood up as well, distracted.

"Yes—come, Imoen, we'll pull off the feather beds and bring them down here. You'll want—"

"Don't trouble yourself," Jaheira sighed. "Your floor will be a far more comfortable place to sleep than the frozen ground we have been used to."

Anna began to argue but she didn't have much energy for hospitality—her mind was running over something else. Imoen went upstairs and Maya retreated to her own little chamber off the kitchen. Kivan said goodnight but went outside, unable to break his habit of patrolling the grounds. Khalid and Jaheira began unrolling their blankets but Anna laid a hand on the druid's arm.

"Jaheira—" she said, almost in a whisper. "Was it...Dosan? Tell me if you think it was."

She looked pleading at her. Jaheira looked back, and Anna could see her green eyes tense with worry.

"Khalid is right," she said after a moment. "We have no way of knowing."

Anna knew that was the best response she could hope for. Quietly she said goodnight and went up to her own sleepless chamber.

...

She came downstairs early the next morning but Khalid and Jaheira were already awake, assuming they slept at all. Anna certainly had not. The morning air was cloudy and no frost was on the ground, but it still snapped with cold. She took up the bucket yoke and went down to the spring to fetch the morning's water.

A bubbling spring was one of her cottage's best features, with clear water flowing from the rock even in winter. Anna set one of the pails down to fill but turned hearing a voice behind her.

"Good morning, Kivan," she said in response. "You didn't sleep out here, I hope?"

"I do not sleep, _mellonamin," _the ranger remarked, though a slight smile flickered over his face.

Anna smiled back through her groggy worry. Kivan raised his head, looking through those black eyes at something she didn't see. He looked back at her, though.

"I do not think you slept, either."

"No," she said quietly.

She set the other bucket under the stream rather deliberately.

"Finn is strong. He will come back to you," Kivan said.

Anna straightened up, wondering not for the first time at the ranger's astuteness.

"I hope you are right. So you are...going home?"

"Yes," Kivan said, looking off into the distance again. "When Jaheira and Khalid announced they were travelling south I knew my time had come."

Anna bit her lip. "I see. I suppose I should...thank you, for all you've done for us. I know Finn would if he were here."

That grim smile came again.

"Not as much as I should thank you. Without your aid I might never have had the revenge I swore, and may have even died at that beast's hands."

"I suppose your wife can rest in peace now," she said.

Kivan nodded, though she thought she saw a strange look pass over his face, like a momentary shadow of fear. Whatever it was the ranger forced it back down.

"But I could not leave here without asking apology from you, _arwenamin."_

"What do you mean?" Anna said.

"I cannot think of my actions in Tazok's camp without shame," he continued. "I wronged you terribly, and I beg your forgiveness."

"That's all right," she said slowly. "I understand why you acted that way. And I'm sorry too—I didn't know. I didn't really understand."

"But that excuses nothing," he said forcefully.

Anna stepped back a pace, thinking that she'd somehow angered him again. Kivan though laid a hand on her arm.

"No, please—forgive me. I only meant that my actions were inexcusable. To attack a woman, a friend who only tried to save my wretched life—there is no excuse. It was shameful."

"It wasn't—" Anna began.

"No. You do not understand." The ranger shook his head. "I saw something that day. I saw for the first time how truly dark I had become inside. How many times had I cursed that beast's black heart, but I never looked to see the colour of mine. It was as black as his."

"Kivan..."

He raised a hand. "No, it is true. It was as though my wounds finally showed it to me, that my chest was open for me to see. And it...frightened me. Shevarash...Seldarine—I was afraid. It frightened me enough that I was afraid to speak with you. Ashamed, and afraid."

Anna stared at him, oblivious to the overflowing bucket.

"But you didn't hurt me," she said. "You stopped. You aren't like Tazok—nothing at all. You are a good man, and I never once thought otherwise."

"You are kind, _arwenamin. _But it was not me that stayed my hand. It was...my wife. I saw Deheriana's face in yours. For one moment, she was there. And I thought—what would I say to her? If I saw her again that day...what would she say to me? She would curse me, cast me away—and so she should. She saved you, not I."

A cold feeling rose up from Anna's stomach. Kivan kept staring at the trees. His long hair was black as jet and his proud elven face unlined, but somehow she thought he looked old.

"Well, you can...thank her for me," she said finally. "And tell her that her husband is a fine man, no matter what he believes."

She gave him a shaky smile. Kivan looked at her, and she saw a flash of warmth in his eyes. He leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her brow, saying something in Elvish that Anna completely missed in her surprise. Kivan wandered away into the trees and she stared after him, watching his ragged cloak disappearing into the brush.

...

In spite of Anna and Imoen's pleas the visitors departed that morning. Jaheira seemed more tense and restless than Anna ever remembered, and there was a new sadness in Khalid's kind grey eyes. Kivan for his part spent the rest of his stay in a companionable silence; in truth, there seemed little else to say. Anna bade him a quiet but fond farewell, and the trio set their feet towards the Beregost Road.

"It seems like everyone's always leaving," Imoen commented.

She and Anna were in the workroom, sorting through a fresh delivery of components.

"It's the nature of autumn," the mage replied thoughtfully. "A time for goodbyes."

Imoen pursed her lip. "Do you think we'll see them again?"

"I hope so," Anna said. "Listen...why don't we walk into town later, and see if Feldepost has any bards performing tonight?"

Imoen looked up in surprise, but her cheeks went slightly pink.

"That would be fun...but I sort of promised Elspeth and Rosie I'd meet them at the Juggler. But you could come too! Why don't you? It would be a laugh."

_The gods know I could use one, _Anna thought, but she shook her head.

"No, you go on. Have a good time."

"Oh, but you should come," Imoen said, warming to the idea. "You do nothing but sit here all day. Come on. It'll take your mind off things."

She considered for a moment but declined. Elspeth and Rosie were both cheerful lasses but too boisterous for her liking. Anna would feel very much the matron in that group.

...

They finished their work as the autumn sun was dropping down. Imoen retreated to her chamber to change and Anna joined Maya in the kitchen.

"What do you mean, she's going out again?" the housekeeper simmered. "She were just out the other night, came home with enough ale in her for a sailor. I thought I'd put a stop to all that."

"Oh, she's just young," Anna said, trying to make a defence. "Let her have some fun."

"Oh, aye—fun. I know that sort of fun. She'll be up the bloody duff before you know it!"

_"Maya!" _Anna exclaimed in a whisper. "Don't say things like that. Imoen is a good girl."

"And you're too naive, missy, that's what. But I know—that's how we got our Remer."

Anna frowned, not really wanting to hear the suspect origins of Maya's grandson.

"A chaperone, that's what she needs," Maya continued. "I don't care if the young folks don't like it these days, it's the only proper thing to do. When I was her age we called—_by all the gods!"_

...

Maya's cry had nothing to do with youthful piety. As she spoke the kitchen door burst open, sending a cold breeze swirling in. Anna's cup fell from her hands and smashed unheeded on the stone floor.

Finn stood in the doorway, his face covered with blood. He stared at the women, dazed, then collapsed to his knees.

_"Finn!" _Anna screamed. "Oh, gods—Maya, get—_Imoen!"_

She knelt down at Finn's side, touching him with shaking hands. He rolled over, trying to wipe the blood from his face with his glove.

_"I'm alright,"_ he choked.

"Oh, the hells you are!" Anna cried. "What happened—_Imoen!"_

The girl appeared half-dressed, summoned by screams. She saw her brother and her face turned white.

"Imoen, get a healing potion—" Anna began, but the girl was already on the stairs.

Anna helped Maya drag Finn further into the kitchen. The housekeeper quickly looked outside then slammed and bolted the door.

"There's nobody I saw," she said, her voice shaking. "Are we under attack? Oh gods, it's happening again! I said, didn't I—"

She slammed the shutters closed, leaving the kitchen dark but for the firelight. Anna helped Finn free himself from his bloody armour.

"Where are you hurt? Where are you hurt?" she repeated, searching desperately for a wound.

"It's not mine," Finn gasped. "Not most of it. I'm alright. Really. But they—_oh, fucking hells."_

Finn ran his hands through his soaked hair and dragged himself to his knees. He managed to find the water bucket in time to be sick. Imoen reappeared with the potion and he swallowed it.

"Finn—what happened?" Anna repeated weakly.

"Attack—in the woods. They're dead. They're all dead."

"Who is?"

Finn tried to steady himself, taking deep breaths.

"We were just about to camp when we found a woman at the side of the road," he said. "She was all covered in blood. Said there'd been a bandit attack, begged us to follow her. There was a wagon there, but straight away I knew something was wrong. It was old, no tracks, no horses. Before I could think though all the hells broke loose...arrows through the trees, spells...Merion cried something but he went down. We didn't stand a chance. They were waiting for us there, they had to be. It wasn't any chance raid. Somebody planned it."

Anna stared at him. "Bandits out for revenge?"

"Maybe. I don't know," Finn groaned. "Bandits take what they can while the getting's good. If the game's up they move on. Besides, these bastards were tough. They cut through a half dozen road-hardened mercenaries like they were a bunch of whelps."

"But...Captain Merion is dead?" Anna asked, still in a daze.

"He took an arrow straight through the eye...yeah, he was dead," Finn said bitterly. "One step to the left and that would've been me. I fought...it was so fast, though...they just cut through us like we were nothing. I saw them all going down...Roger, Benrick...even our cleric. I knew I didn't have a chance. I reached under my mail and grabbed your gem. Next thing I knew I was lying face-down in the crossroads, not a stone's throw from here. I didn't know where I was at first...so much blood I couldn't see. I must've passed out. I'm alright though—when I woke up the gash seemed healed."

Anna suddenly rose to her feet.

"We need to get out of here," she said. "That wasn't a raid—it was an assassination, and we all know who they were after. They'll find us. Imoen—go throw some things together. I need to get my book—those invisibility potions are done—take them. We'll—"

Imoen started for the stairs but Finn stopped her.

"Wait," he said, dragging himself to his feet. "I need to report this to Vai. We'll go to the base, all of us—we'll be safe there."

"No, we will not," Anna exclaimed, and Finn looked at her in surprise. "We're not going to the Flaming Fist!"

"But, Anna—"

"No! It's them! Don't you see? They did it. It was them—it's the Iron Throne again!"

She began to sob. Finn went to her but she recoiled from the sight of the blood.

"It's nothing to do with them, it can't be," he said.

"She's right," Imoen spoke. "It's them. Jaheira said they killed the slaves!"

Finn stared at her in a loss. Anna tried to explain the last day with little success; she was shaking too hard.

"I can't..." he said. "It can't...but where else can we go? There isn't anywhere else."

Finn looked at Anna desperately but she had no answer to give him. The kitchen was foggy, it was too dark. She felt her legs giving way under her and collapsed down onto the table bench.


	72. Broken Threads

"I don't know what to think," Finn said. "But I trust Officer Vai. She's good—I'd stake my life on it."

"Oh, aye—and what about hers, eh?" Maya said, hurrying to where Anna sat slumped on the bench. "Or the rest of us, for that matter?"

"I'm fine," Anna said weakly.

She felt more exhausted than faint, like she was running a race that had no end. Finn glared at the housekeeper.

"Her life's worth a hundred of mine," he said angrily. "Imoen's too. And even yours, though I know you can't stand me."

"Then bloody start to act like it!" Maya exclaimed.

Finn began to reply but Anna cut in.

"Stop it! Both of you. We need to do something, now."

"I'll tell you what I'm doing, and that's getting out of this house," Maya said. "If you were smart you'd come with me. _He's _the trouble, I told you that from the start. Blood will out, I said—and now look at him."

Finn had grabbed a wet rag to try and wash some of the blood from his face, but now he stood looking at the housekeeper with a black expression. Anna felt her own anger rising.

"That's _enough. _Finn hasn't done anything wrong! And I won't hear you talking about him that way. Whether you like him or not, he's master of this house now. He's my husband, and I won't hear any more—do you understand?"

It was likely the first time Anna had ever addressed the housekeeper in the tone of a mistress, and she stepped back.

"Aye," Maya stammered. "Master of the house—but not master of me. And I pity you if you've let him become your master. But I can't do any more here. If you want to get killed, missus, that's your decision. I've got a family to take care of, and I'll be damned if any strange orphan's going to drag them into bloodshed. I've had enough of this."

She pulled off her big apron and threw it on the table. Anna stared at her, shocked at her declaration.

"Oh, Maya—I'm sorry. But you can't mean..."

"I can and do!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry too, Anna—but if you go with him, you're on your own."

Maya strode into her bedchamber and slammed the door. Anna could hear her pulling things down from the shelves. She rose up but Finn stopped her.

"Never mind," he said, his face still dark. "She wants to go, let her. But we should go to the base. I'm still in the Fist, I don't have any choice. I have to report on what happened."

"But what about us?" Imoen squeaked.

She stood there holding her up her half-laced dress, looking at him with frightened eyes.

"I don't know," Finn groaned. "If it's not safe...we'll work it out from there, aye? But for now, let's pack. The old bitch is right about one thing—if they are looking for me, they won't be far away."

They scrambled to find whatever they could. Anna stuffed her pack blindly, hardly seeing what she threw inside. Socks, salted meat and spell components were all mashed together in the canvas. She crammed as many potion bottles as she could into her pouches but paused hearing the kitchen door slam. Hurrying to the window she just caught sight of Maya's large frame heading down the hill into the darkness.

Anna fastened the shutters and locked the front door while Finn went about splashing water onto the fires. The dark house filled with a sick-smelling fog but Anna paid no heed. They tumbled out of the cottage and she fastened the kitchen door, before leaving her home behind her once more.

...

They set off down the lane but Anna quickly directed them into the fields; the way was shorter and they seemed less likely to encounter trouble that way. Guided by thin moonlight their feet crunched over the frozen mud as they headed towards the Flaming Fist camp. Anna clenched her cloak tightly around her, and her shoulders groaned from the weight of the pack. Finn looked at her but she kept her eyes straight ahead.

They skirted the town and eventually Anna could see the torches of the stockade blinking between the trees. Finn strode up to a sentry, who addressed him in surprise.

"Fecking hells, lad—what happened to you?" the man asked. "You're in Merion's patrol, aye? Where's the captain?"

"I'll need to tell Vai first," Finn answered tersely, and the sentry let them pass.

The base seemed quiet at least, Anna thought, with most of the mercenaries sheltering in the barracks or their tents. It seemed to her a good sign though she wondered how long it would last. Finn hurried up to the officers' quarters and burst inside with barely a word to the guard at the door. Vai and two other officers were in the sitting room, and they quickly rose to their feet.

"Lieutenant?" Officer Vai exclaimed. "What has happened? Report!"

None of them bothered with a salute. Finn drew a deep breath.

"Merion is dead. The rest of the patrol as well. We were ambushed, lured into a trap. Just off the road, maybe twelve miles to the south. Eight, maybe ten attackers. I couldn't see them all. They had spellcasters. We didn't stand a chance, Commander."

Vai stared at him. She leaned against the table for a moment, then cleared her throat and straightened up.

"I see. And how did you escape? Were they with you?"

She nodded at Anna and Imoen. Finn shook his head.

"No, I've...just been home. I was worried that they might come looking for me."

Oddly Vai seemed to find little unusual in the statement.

"But how did you escape?" she asked again. "Did you manage to outride them?"

"No, ma'am. My wife gave me a rogue stone when I signed up. It saved my life."

"That's quite a present," one of the officers remarked. "Should we send out a patrol, Commander? If there's someone targeting the Flaming Fist our boys need to know about it."

"No...not tonight, Reed. We'd gain little by riding in the dark. Send the message at first light. But set the camp on full alert—no unauthorised persons are to enter without my word," Vai said.

The officer saluted and went out into the night. Vai leaned onto the table again, though what her expression was Anna couldn't truly tell.

"Are you in need of healing, Lieutenant?" she asked.

"No, ma'am," Finn replied.

"Very well. Weyran, report to Aravel and Fameon, tell them to ready emergency patrols to ride out at dawn. And make sure they each have a mage on their team—they might need it."

The remaining officer also saluted and departed. As soon as the door shut Vai strode over to a side table topped with several bottles of alcohol.

"Lieutenant, I don't blame you for thinking you were the target here, not with your history. But my gut tells me these bastards found their true mark."

Anna noticed her wrists shaking slightly. She poured herself a measure of whiskey but left it sitting on the table.

"Commander?" Finn said. "You think...Merion? But why now?"

"I'll trust to your discretion here," Vai said, looking at the women. "In truth, many of us have suspected corruption in the highest ranks for a long time. But there's been almost...a devil in our midst anymore. Dosan we fingered easily enough—you should see the rings he likes to flash around in the festhalls. But there were others, men I'd have been willing to swear were loyal and good, who just seemed to _turn. _We suspected magic, of course, but we've never been able to pin it on anyone."

"Like the Duke, you mean," Anna said.

Vai nodded grimly. "That's the worst blow of all. How can we act when our head keeps blocking us? Short of full-scale mutiny there's nothing we could do. At least, not in the open. But we've been working quietly, trying to get to the heart of things. Unfortunately, our adversary now seems to feel the same. And poor Merion and the others have just paid the cost."

"But who is it?" Anna almost whispered. "Who's pulling the strings? Is it the Iron Throne?"

"They certainly seem the most obvious villains in this pantomime," Vai said. "And we thought so ourselves. But in truth...we aren't sure anymore."

Anna looked at her in surprise, but the commander did not elaborate.

"Lieutenant—I need to know every detail you can remember about the attack. Ladies, you might as well take Merion's old room for the night. Tyr knows he won't be needing it. The gods help me, if I ever find...it's the third door upstairs. Should be unlocked. Now, Finnigan?"

...

Anna felt their dismissal. She squeezed Finn's hand and she and Imoen wandered blankly up the stairs to Captain Merion's old room. The small chamber had been left neat and tidy, but looking at it Anna couldn't help but ponder that it was the room of a dead man.

"There's only one bed," Imoen said. "Are we all supposed to sleep in here?"

"I don't know," Anna sighed.

She sat down hard onto the crackling straw mattress. Imoen went to the window and stared out at the moonlit trees. For a few minutes the room was still as a grave. Suddenly though Imoen kicked hard at the trunk, letting out a cry that made Anna leap out of her skin.

_"It's not fair! It's not fair!"_

"Shut up," Anna burst out. "Be quiet!"

Her nerves vibrated enough without Imoen's ranting. The girl turned from the window with tears in her eyes.

"It just isn't fair," she sobbed. "I was happy here. I can study all I want, not just clean all the time. I have friends now—I've never had any real friends. I feel like a _person._ And now they're out there somewhere being happy, thinking that I just didn't feel like turning up. I was going to wear my nice cape—but now we have to run again, don't we? It's not _fair."_

Anna looked at her but said nothing.

"I'm going to get a ship," Imoen continued, wiping her eyes with her palm. "I'm going to sail as far away as I can. I'm never going to stop. Nobody'll find me. Not ever. Not ever."

She collapsed down onto the bed, and Anna drew her tightly into her arms.

"I know. I know."

She said nothing else, rocking the girl in her arms. Imoen sobbed in silence and Anna's own eyes welled over in tears.

Finn seemed to be gone for a long time. Anna didn't bother lighting a candle. She sat in the stiff chair, looking out over the cold night as Imoen had done before. The girl lay curled up in the bed, though from the occasional chokes that issued from under the blankets she knew she wasn't sleeping. Anna shivered; the air was chilly with no fire, but she didn't care.

At last the door opened and Finn stepped inside. Imoen rolled over to see him, then curled back into a ball again. Anna stayed in her chair.

"Vai's going to assign me to a new patrol," Finn said low. "She says you and Imoen can stay here a few days, just to be safe. But otherwise there doesn't seem to be much to do."

"Other than wait for the next attack," Anna said.

Her voice sounded so level and low it seemed like another woman's. Finn let out a sigh.

"There's nothing else we can do."

He unrolled the blankets from Anna's pack; his own lay abandoned somewhere in the wilderness. Finn spread them wide enough for two but Anna remained sitting.

"We need to find them, Finn."

"I know." He pulled off his boots with a groan. "Come to bed, won't you? It's alright, I've had a wash."

Anna shivered again; the chill of the room was beginning to sink into her. She laid down next to Finn and he draped the blankets over them. The floor felt hard as a rock with nothing but the wool underneath. Finn rolled over and wrapped his arms around her.

"I am so sorry, love. About all of this. I never wanted this to happen—I never even thought. You were right, after all."

"It's alright," Anna said mechanically.

Finn cuddled her close and was still. The weight of his arm on her chest made it difficult to breathe but she didn't move. Exhaustion overcame her and she faded off into sleep.

...

Anna's eyes flashed open. She looked around at the grey room, confused and unable to remember where she was. She was sure something had woken her. Next to her Finn sat up, listening. Anna heard a commotion outside and Finn jumped up with a curse.

"What is it?" she asked as Finn tugged on his boots.

"Alarm call," he said.

Anna could plainly hear a bell ringing. Finn dashed out into the hall and the two women scrambled to dress and follow him.

She felt so stiff from the cold floor that she could barely move, but she forced her muscles to move quickly. Anna and Imoen stepped out into the foggy morning to see an excited group of mercenaries gathered around the gates. They held back on the farmhouse steps, watching the crowd.

Anna craned her neck to try and see Finn, but she caught a glimpse of another familiar face emerging from the fog. For one moment she thought her tired eyes must be playing tricks, but Imoen ran towards the phantom and Anna quickly followed.

"Jaheira? What are you doing here?" the mage asked.

The druid's grim face did not even smile for a greeting, and she looked ashen in the light. If she was at all surprised to see them in the base she didn't let it show.

"There has been an...attack," she said.

"You know what happened to Finn?" Imoen asked.

Jaheira looked at her. "He was struck as well?"

"Yes, but what do you mean?" Anna said. "Did you come under attack on the road?"

She began to fear for her comrades, but the druid shook her head.

"No, not us. Them."

She turned and looked at a handful of commoners who emerged from the crowd. Men and women, though Anna didn't recognise their faces. A few leaned on mercenaries for support as they were ushered towards the barracks. One woman was nearly doubled over, and she kept wailing into the mist.

_"My babies...they killed my babies. Murdering Amnish bastards! I want them all dead!"_

She dropped to her knees but a mercenary lifted her off her feet and carried her inside. Anna stared at Jaheira, unable to form the question. The druid answered for her.

"In our camp last night we saw the glow of flames over the trees—we knew a small settlement lay some miles off so we hurried to investigate. The village was in ruins—burnt houses, burnt bodies. The few survivors said that they had been attacked by soldiers of the Amnish army."

"Oh, my gods," Imoen said under her breath.

"We had no time to pursue them, and would have been outnumbered regardless," Jaheira said, almost making an excuse to herself. "We helped the survivors make their way here. We—thought it safer than the town."

"Amn did this?" Anna said softly.

She clutched at her throat, staring at the mercenaries. A number of them mounted horses and rode out of the gates, their hooves thundering towards the south. Officer Vai swiftly approached them, with Finn, Kivan and Khalid following. Anna noticed she had something in her grasp—the helm of an Amnish soldier.

"With me," Vai said to the women.

...

They all followed her into the officers' quarters. Vai threw the helm onto a table; it bounced and went clattering to the floor, but she let it lay where it fell. She paced the floor, her hand clutching at the grip of her sword.

_"Damn it!" _she growled. "Even I didn't think they would stoop to something like this. Slaughtering an entire village...by the gods, is there no end to evil?"

"Never, in my experience," Kivan remarked. "So we must be swifter."

"You are right, Master Elf," Vai said. "Hopefully our patrols will be swift enough. Damn it!"

Her fists found the table, making it shudder under the blow. Finn came and stood next to Anna. She looked at him, worried, but his grim eyes told her nothing.

"Why...why would Amn do this?" Anna said.

She spoke softly, a tone of despair in her voice. Her words barely carried but Vai quickly turned to her.

"Why? To put it simply—they wouldn't."

Anna blinked at her, and the commander continued.

"There's been no evidence to even _suggest_ that Amn is considering an assault on this coast. Our scouts report that the garrison has stayed in Nashkel, but there's no sign of them being on the increase. They mostly patrol the road, the same as us. But even throwing all that aside—why in all the hells would Amn attack us now, with Sythillis breathing down their necks and their colonies on the verge of rebellion? They'd have to be mad."

"But what about all the rumours? And why would the Dukes be so keen to have a show of force here, if they weren't worried about an attack?" Anna said.

The commander stopped pacing and let out a loud sigh.

"Now, there's the rub. Rumour doesn't mean much—ask half the people here and they'd tell you the bloody Zhentarim were behind the iron crisis. But I've been getting word from the top to keep an eye open for any suspicious activity in the area, and then they tell me my contingent's going to double in size. I tried to make my case, but what I think and what the Dukes think seem to be two different animals."

"I also cannot believe Amn was behind this attack," Jaheira said. "But speaking with the villagers it appears someone has tried quite hard to give that impression. They wore the colours of Amn, and stated their nationality repeatedly."

Officer Vai's face turned even more grim.

"Which is worrying in itself—where'd they get the uniforms? But I'm glad you had the brains to bring the survivors here. We can keep this under wraps after a fashion, for now at least. But could you imagine if they burst onto the green in Beregost, screaming bloody murder and pointing the finger at Amn? These people wouldn't need any more prodding—we'd have an uprising on our hands before we knew it."

"And I fear, Commander, that th-that is exactly what someone wants," Khalid replied.

"Then you and I fear the same, my good Harper. Which is why we must find those responsible before they can do any more damage. I can hold off on reporting this to Baldur's Gate for awhile. Hopefully when I do I'll have something more to say than the obvious conclusion. Here's hoping the gods will smile on us."

"I agree these villains must be found, and made to pay for the blood they have spilled," Jaheira said tersely. "But surely you must know as well who the true perpetrators of this attack are—the Iron Throne. They cannot be allowed to walk free! Has no one in your organisation the power to bring them to justice?"

"Merion said that Duke Eltan specifically forbade any action against them," Vai replied. "We can do nothing."

"The Duke has gone mad!" Jaheira cried. "The other Dukes surely cannot be so blind. He is being manipulated by the Iron Throne, that is clear. Why is he still in command?"

Vai suddenly turned to her, a bright spark in her eyes.

"Whatever his condition, Eltan is my commander, and I will tolerate no such talk in my presence. Am I understood?"

Jaheira glared back. "That still does not address the issue, Commander."

"Perhaps not," Vai said coolly. "But consider, before you call us all blind fools. The Iron Throne are undoubtedly a house of criminals, and most likely the hand behind the iron plague. But I don't think they're to blame here."

Jaheira began to interject, but Officer Vai held up a hand.

"We know they're corrupt, we know they'd sell their own mothers to a whorehouse if it earned them two bits. But that's just it—they're _known. _Rieltar Anchev is a greedy bastard. But even him, with his lotus-addled mind values his skin above all else. What would he possibly gain from all this? He doesn't care about politics, and his coffers are fat enough as it is. And he sure as hells doesn't want an Amnish siege engine hurling flaming oil into his villa and cutting off his precious lotus supply. The gods help me if I'm wrong, but I just can't see him doing this."

The commander's conclusions were as far from Anna's own as possible, and she stared at her. Finn spoke.

"She's right. That's why I didn't really believe it was the Throne that attacked us, or that they goaded the Shadow Druids to attack the slaves. But someone has gone through a hell of a lot of effort to make us think they had."

"But, who then?" Anna stammered. "And how did you know this?"

Finn drew a breath. "It was Merion, love. He let me in on a few things."

She looked at him. "You mean there's things you haven't told me? How long have you known?"

"Not long," he said quickly. "Just this past patrol. I wanted to tell you—I'm sorry. But I didn't want you to worry even more than you were."

He reached for her but Anna turned away from him.

"Merion said the lieutenant could be trusted, so we let him into our fold," Vai said. "We need all the help we can get right now."

Jaheira groaned and slumped down into a chair.

"Silvanus—what is happening here? Intrigue upon intrigue, pawns set against one another...who is doing this? And for what purpose? Nothing makes sense anymore."

Khalid laid a hand on her shoulder, and she grasped it hard.

"If the Harpers don't have a clue, that doesn't make me feel any better," Vai groaned. "But we don't have time to sit around and navel-gaze. Someone obviously wants a war, and we have to stop them. Lieutenant—I am reassigning you. As much as we need men in the field, I think you're needed more in Baldur's Gate."

...

Finn stared at her.

"Ma'am?"

"Don't think you're getting off easy," Vai continued. "This could be dangerous. Captain Merion was getting close to something—we were sure of it, but the Duke sent him here before he could get a sniff. But you were heading down that same trail, you and your companions. The quartermaster of the Baldur's Gate garrison is on our side. I'll send him a letter detailing your orders. Get to the supply house and take whatever you need—you'll ride out this afternoon."

Anna felt herself falling even more. Finn looked at her, then looked at his commander.

"But what about my wife?"

"And me," Imoen broke in.

"And my sister," Finn added.

The commander had seated herself before a parchment, and paused with her quill in the air.

"You are an officer in the Flaming Fist now, Lieutenant," she said. "Are you saying you're not prepared to follow orders?"

"No, ma'am," Finn said. "But I just...they may not be safe here."

"They won't be any safer in the city," Vai remarked. "However, as a married officer you're entitled to bring your wife with you on your post, if you should choose. In some ways that might even be for the best. But think about it before you do. I can't guarantee you won't be made a target, and if they do decide to go after you, I won't be able to help."

Anna could see Finn wavering. He looked at her, then looked down at the floor. Slowly she drew a breath and spoke.

"Finn...I'll go with you."

"I don't want you to get hurt—" he began.

"And do you think I want to see you hurt? But I'm as much a part of this as you are. And more than that...we need to be together. Whatever may come."

A small smile crept onto his face—a pained smile, but Anna felt its warmth. Her own eyes smiled back at him and Finn cleared his throat.

"But what about me?" Imoen said. "I'm going with you, too."

Finn shook his head.

"No, flower. This is going to be too dangerous."

"I don't care," she exclaimed. "It's like Anna said—I'm part of this too. I know more spells now, I can fight—"

"I know you do. I'm not saying I don't want you with us, but not now. Give it awhile. If it seems safe, we'll send for you. But not now."

"You're not going to order me around, Mister!" Imoen cried. "I'm an adult. And if I want to go to the city, I can. You can't stop me."

She glared at her brother, almost in tears. Vai looked up from her parchment but said nothing. Finn groaned.

"You know what—I can. You're not an adult, you're not even eighteen. You're Winthrop's ward, but as he's not here I reckon that makes me the next best thing. And I say you're not coming with us."

"Finn..." Anna said, but he just looked at her.

The mention of Winthrop's name seemed to sting Imoen, and she stood clutching at her shoulders. She looked at Finn, her eyes bright and sparking.

"I know why you're doing this. I know you just think of me as your little sister, and you don't want me to get hurt. But I am an adult, whatever you say. I've been fighting and bleeding next to you all this time, and I never quit and I never complained. If you don't want me to go with you, I won't. I won't go where I'm not wanted. But if you do this...so help me, I will never speak to you again. I can fight. I can help. I'm not a little girl, Finn. I'm not."

He bit his lip, and Anna thought his eyes looked red.

"I know you're not," Finn said. "And you're right. But not this time, okay? Please, Imoen. I have enough to worry about any more, and I want you to be safe. If you really care about me, you'll stay."

Imoen wiped her eyes. "But what am I going to do here? Live in Anna's cottage all by myself?"

"No," Finn hesitated. "I don't suppose you could. Imoen...you should go home."

She looked at him, and even Anna stared at him in surprise.

"Back to Candlekeep?" Imoen began. "But Finn..."

"It'd be safest there. Besides, Winthrop and Vera must be worried sick about you. Go home. Not forever, just for a month maybe. If it's safe I'll send for you. I think it's for the best."

Imoen nodded, though she looked ill. She kept staring down at the floorboards. Finn drew a deep breath and Vai at last looked up from the sealed parchment.

"If you have your domestic issues sorted—give this to Captain Dessander at the headquarters in Baldur's Gate. And I don't need to tell you it's for his eyes only. Keep it safe, no matter what. And make ready to leave. I can assign you a mount, but your wife will have to manage on her own. Good luck to you—Tyr knows we all need it."

The rest of that afternoon seemed like a pained blur. Anna couldn't face going back to her cottage, and she left instructions for its care with a surprised Feldepost. How desperately though did she want to go back—she wanted to go home, to see the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, to hear Maya's stern voice again. Her illusions of a normal life seemed to vanish like a dream, and even before she rode away from Beregost she found it hard to remember those happy thoughts. Finn gauged her expression as their horses found their way north.

"We'll be back. May all the gods help me, Anna—I promise you that."

"You can't promise that," she replied. "But there's nothing else we can do."

Finn looked at her but said nothing more. He whipped his horse into a gallop and Anna followed, their sharp hoof-strikes piercing the day like thunder.

...

As darkness gathered they made camp off the side of the road. Camping seemed so strange to Anna after all that time, but Finn built up the fire and dug a latrine in a businesslike way. He cooked up a simple porridge with bits of dried meat and the scent of it made her stomach growl remarkably loud.

"This is the first I've eaten today," Anna said, almost to herself.

"Me and all. Haven't thought a thing about food, but I'm hungry as a wolf now."

Finn dished out the gruel into their small wooden bowls, and Anna set to work devouring it with a piece of bread. The porridge was steaming hot but it cooled quickly in the night, and it soon vanished.

"I still feel bad for Imoen," Anna remarked, following the porridge with a swallow of wine from the skin.

She'd arranged for the girl's passage to Candlekeep at the same time she'd hired her own horse. Imoen seemed stunned as she, and she stayed almost eerily silent even as the wagon drew her away from town. Anna and Finn stood together in the road, watching as it bobbed away over the horizon.

"So do I. But it's for the best, I reckon. I don't want her to—but I don't expect you to come with me, either," Finn suddenly said. "You don't need to stand by my side. I want you to know that. You could go home tomorrow."

Anna looked at him in surprise.

"Would you, if you were me?"

"No," he sighed.

He squeezed her cold hand in his and they were silent for a time.

"I can set up the tent if you like," he said. "Though I don't think it'll rain."

"That's alright," she said. "Besides, a tent wouldn't do much to keep out the cold."

"No." He looked up at the bright stars peeking between the treetops. "I'll take the watch. You can try and get some sleep."

"You'll wake me, won't you?" Anna said.

"Yeah, love," he replied.

Somehow she doubted him. Anna began to rise, but suddenly she drew him in her arms. He pulled her close and they stayed in each other's embrace for a long time.

"I love you, Anna," Finn whispered. "I do...you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I keep dragging you through the shite. Typical, eh? I only wanted a good life for the both of us. That's all. I'm sorry."

"Finn..." she caressed his hair, feeling her eyes growing moist. "It's not your fault. Something keeps following us, and even if you never joined the Fist it still would've found us. We can't hide. It's just...fate."

"Following me, you mean," he said. He leaned back and looked at her. "It's always me. You just keep getting in front of the target."

"Don't talk like that. It's not true, anyway."

Finn sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry. It's just hard not to have a moment of self-pity now and again, you know?"

He gave her a little grin and Anna smiled.

"Besides, I'm not really so bloody self-absorbed as to think someone is trying to start a war for my benefit," he said. "We've just been unlucky, or there's some unfinished business out there we don't know about. None of this has anything to do with me, and it'd be stupid to think otherwise."

Finn squeezed her again, but suddenly something flashed into Anna's mind. The Harper letters Jaheira gave her—it seemed like a lifetime ago now. She'd never shown them to Finn, there seemed little point. The letters said nothing they didn't already know. But now their words flashed back to her; _"his troubles and the troubles of this region are connected, though how I cannot say."_

Anna felt a kind of shock go through her body and she pulled Finn closer. Could they be connected? Did the letter only hint at the madness of Davaeorn? Perhaps that was all. Whoever wrote that letter had guessed at the truth. There was nothing else. All this intrigue was far beyond any orphan of Candlekeep; it had to be.

Finn woke her just before sunrise, in time to collapse into his bedroll for a short rest before they needed to ride out. Anna watched him lying there in the grey light, dead to the world. He seemed so pale with his tangled hair framing his face. She was determined to take first watch that night and spare him the guilt of waking her.

If only they weren't alone. It was strange and even frightening to be so far in the wilderness with only the pair of them together. But Khalid and Jaheira had their own mission, and Kivan decided reluctantly to follow them. They said goodbye at the camp but Anna felt a kind of finality in the parting. They knew as well the difficulty of their tasks, and there was no reason to assume they would ever meet again.

Anna bit her lip, thinking she in truth had little idea what Finn's mission actually was. He still would tell her nothing, begging instead her silence. He rode under the colours of the Flaming Fist though, so she did not expect their presence in the city to be a secret.

Finn started from his sleep and Anna sighed; this would be a long journey.


	73. Visitors

Long it was, but uneventful at least. Except for a couple of gibberling attacks they thankfully had no trouble. The weather even consented to moderate, allowing them to ride in the clear air of late autumn. They spent one night in the shelter of the Friendly Arm Inn and took advantage of a bath and a bed. The morning's light called them out all too soon though, and they rode fast again to the north.

After what seemed a lifetime they finally reached the ferry. It looked so different from their first crossing months ago; the trees that lined the riverbank were mostly bare, and the caravans were few and far between. Those they did encounter were hurrying fast to make their destination before the grip of winter would tighten around the coast. The ferry pilots were as impersonal as ever though, and Anna gingerly led her nervous horse onto the deck.

Once in the city she deposited her tired mount at a livery stable in the docks. Finn guided his as they made their way through the crowded streets to the Flaming Fist compound. Anna felt like an invader in the city somehow, and wanted to skulk through the alleys rather than walk openly in the street. She found herself looking about, trying to see a familiar face in the crowd, but there was no one.

Finn went into the compound but Anna elected to wait in a tavern across the way. Whatever he and his captain would discuss would likely be for Finn's ears only, and she didn't much fancy hanging about the compound waiting for him. The tavern was dark and unkempt, populated by a few off-duty mercenaries who seemed eager for any sort of relaxation. They recognised her as the property of one of their own though, and despite earning a few looks she sat unmolested as she gazed out the window.

Jaheira had said that Ajantis and Xan were in the city. Were they still there, or had they gone away? Anna felt a desire to see them, but a sort of fear as well. It all seemed so strange now with everything they had been through. Sitting there in that tavern, with her ring on her hand Anna felt like a different person than the one she had been. But perhaps nothing had changed, after all.

After a long time Finn's shape darkened the door. He came and sat across from her, dropping their heavy packs down with a thump.

"Everything's sorted," he said. "Captain Dessander was surprised, but he has room for us in the married officers' accommodation. Should be pretty nice. It sounds safe, at least. We can go there straight away, unless you want to get some dinner first."

He glanced over at the bar but Anna didn't much fancy the quality of the tavern's food.

"No, let's go find this place. I'd like to wash up."

"Fair enough," he said. "There's bound to be a tavern near there. It's on Border Street, just south of the wall, not far from here."

...

Anna followed Finn out of the pub and up away from the river. She was glad of that at least; the riverside was prone to unpleasant odours. The neighbourhood didn't improve much though and soon they found themselves standing outside what looked like a large old house.

It was timber-framed, with the black beams set at odd angles. Grey smoke curled out of the chimney pots and drifted away into the air. A brick wall which looked like a later addition surrounded the property, giving it a claustrophobic feel. Finn swung open the gate and it creaked on its hinges.

A parade of drying laundry greeted them; it hung stretched over sagging ropes, taking advantage of the precious sun. In the soil surrounding the house a number of leeks stood where flowers should be, and Anna could hear the distinct sound of chickens coming from around the corner. Somewhere inside a child squalled and a woman's voice shouted to silence him.

"Well, I guess we just...go in?" Finn said.

A heavy wooden door faced the street, but they found it unlocked. They stepped into the dark entry and mounted the wide staircase. Doors were set where the side chambers should be, and most were open a crack. Anna could hear voices and the smell of cooking penetrated the frames. A pair of children dashed excitedly past them down the stairs, completely ignoring the newcomers in their game.

Finn led them up the steeper second floor steps, stopping before a door daubed with the number eight. He set an iron key into the lock and pushed open the door.

Inside was a single chamber. A dormer window was set into the slope of the roof and a thin blue curtain was stretched across it on a string, casting an odd light into the stuffy room. The walls were plastered long ago and they bore vague stains and web-like cracks. A small fireplace was set into the outer wall, and a plain wooden bedstead graced the other. There was a cupboard and a table with chairs, but that was all.

Anna let her pack slide down onto the dirty floor. Finn looked at the room, a strange expression on his face.

"Well...I suppose they think you'll bring your own things. It's not so bad, is it?"

Anna didn't answer but went over to the window, drawing aside the curtain. The activity sent a trio of spiders crawling for shelter and she grimaced. She unlatched the frame and forced open the panel, letting in a cool breeze. The centre city wall stood close behind the house and a small cluttered garden was below.

"I think I saw a woodpile downstairs—I'll go get us an armful," Finn said, and disappeared onto the stairs.

Anna let out a silent groan. The chamber bore that filth of uninhabitation, and she prayed that she and Finn were the only occupants. Bravely she drew open the cupboard but there was nothing except a few old crocks inside. She went to examine the bed but paused hearing an unfamiliar step at the door.

"Oh, hello!" a cheerful voice said. "I thought there were someone new up here."

A pleasant-looking woman in a dirty apron appeared, holding a small child in her arms. Another peeked wonderingly around his mother's skirts at the strange woman.

"My name's Ella," the woman said. "My Mick's a lieutenant. We're sort of unofficial landlords, been living here longer than the rest. Though we hadn't heard we was getting any new neighbours."

"I'm Anna, and my husband Finn is a lieutenant as well," she replied, trying to smile. "We came here at short notice."

"Do tell," Ella replied, bouncing the baby on her hip. "Sorry this place is in such a state. I'd have given it a scrubbing for you if I knew. These upper rooms aren't up to much, I'm afraid. They're just temporary accommodation, like. But you should be comfy enough here. There's a privy in the back and we've got our own well, though I wouldn't drink the water fresh if I was you."

"Thank you," Anna said.

The woman seemed to read something in Anna's face, for she just smiled sympathetically.

"Well, I'll leave you to get settled in. We're just downstairs—give us a shout if you need anything, our door's always open."

Anna smiled back, a warmer one this time. The woman ushered her brood back down the stairs, and Anna sighed and reached for the battered broom.

Finn returned and set a fire burning in the hearth. Anna fetched a bucketful of cautionary water and tidied as much as she could, though she lacked the energy for much housekeeping. She spread their blankets over the slightly musty-smelling bed while Finn went out for some food. Afterwards they sat at the table, eating and watching the fire's glow.

"They want me to report into base first thing tomorrow," Finn said.

"What will you be doing?"

"Just patrolling for now. There's some things we need to get sorted."

Anna let out a short breath of anxiety.

"Don't worry, love.," Finn said. "Why don't you take some coin and see if you can't get us a few more sticks of furniture or something? This place is a bit small, but it wouldn't be half bad fixed up."

"I wish you'd stop telling me not to worry," she replied, rather tersely. "I'll worry if I feel like it."

He said nothing more. Finn bolted the door and they went to bed soon after Anna washed the crocks. She lay awake for much of the night though in spite of her exhaustion, listening to him breathe and trying to ignore the subtle scurrying sounds in the wall.

...

Finn left early the next morning, leaving Anna alone in the strange house. She felt more determined that morn, however, and decided to put her anxious energy into giving their room a thorough scrubbing. She disposed of the old straw and washed the mattress in a tub borrowed from Ella, then flopped it over one of the many clotheslines to dry. She wiped down the cupboard and the window, sending the spiders on their way. Anna cleaned out the grate and finally settled with a groan into her least favourite task, scrubbing the floor.

Back and forth she crawled over the wood, rubbing the stiff brush in circles over the floor. It was tiresome work and she sweated under the kerchief she'd tied over her hair. Her knees ached and bruised and the pads of her fingers shrunk into little ridges from the dirty water.

She kept her eyes focused on her task, but they glanced up seeing silent movement by the open door. Anna paused and raised her head in surprise. She saw a silken robe and a bright silver sword, both partially concealed by a long grey cloak. The figure folded his arms and regarded the room's grime-covered occupant with a sigh.

"You came back."

Anna sat down on the wet floor, feeling her face turning redder under his gaze.

"Hello, Xan."

The elf stood in the doorway, making no move to enter. He wore a fine new robe of indigo, cut in the elvish style, and the contrast between the enchanter and his surroundings could not have been more pronounced.

"How did you know we were here?" Anna asked, hobbling to her feet with a groan.

"You were spotted by chance yesterday. I would like to say that I was surprised you came back to the city, but unfortunately I cannot," Xan said.

She felt alarmed. "Spotted? By who?"

"A friend," he replied. "Although you should count yourself lucky if only friendly eyes noted your arrival. Oh, Anna—why are you here?"

Xan let out a weary groan and rubbed his eyes. She looked at him in surprise.

"Finn is in the Flaming Fist now. He was—reassigned to the city."

"I heard something to that effect, yes, though I'd hoped it was a mistake. A greater folly I cannot imagine, and that is saying something."

He shook his head and Anna suddenly felt irritated.

"Have you come here only to express your disappointment in us? You didn't even bother saying hello."

Xan's mouth twisted. "Then, hello. But no—this is not truly a social call. I wanted to speak with you and find out what has brought you back to this place. Even if Finn has joined the Flaming Fist, I found it somewhat unlikely that he would just happen to be stationed here. You arrived alone, not part of any company. What is happening?"

Anna frowned. "You'll have to ask Finn—I know about as much as you do, I'd wager. Although perhaps not, you seem to know a great deal about our arrival here already."

She gave him a pointed look and the elf grimaced.

"Being paranoid can have its uses, though I would not direct it towards me," Xan said. "In spite of appearances I have hardly had you under surveillance. I only wished to speak with you."

"Well, you are now," Anna said bluntly, rubbing her aching head.

She found it hard to believe she had actually somehow missed the company of the elf; he'd not been standing there five minutes and he already had her hackles up.

_"Er, _yes," he coughed. "But I sense you aren't much in the mood for conversation, and you seem...engaged, regardless. I should like to call back later, however, if it would not inconvenience you."

He uttered the statement with such seriousness that she somehow found herself chuckling, in spite of her soured mood.

"Oh, but Xan, our social calendar is simply crammed full—Master and Mistress Finnigan must give you their regrets," she said, laughing. "Of course, you can stop by whenever you want. Finn should be back this evening, come by then."

The elf started slightly at her jest, but drew a breath.

"Very well. I shall bid you good morning, then."

Xan bowed and retreated with hardly another word. He swept out onto the stairs, ignoring Ella's little boy who had crept up to get a view of the exotic stranger. The little lad stood with his fingers in his mouth, watching the elf depart with wide eyes.

"Come on, poppet," Anna said with a sigh. "Let's get you home before your mother starts calling."

She took the child by the hand and helped him trundle down the steep stairs.

...

Anna finished her chores and went out onto the streets, shopping basket on her arm. She thought how strange it was to be back in the city, with its winding narrow streets like chasms, their rows of buildings and houses blocking out the sun and shading the cobblestones. Everywhere noises were to be heard—the clatter of carts, the calls of a hawker, the sounds of song from the taverns where folk gathered for cheap ale to smooth away the wrinkles of life. Shrines stood shoulder-to-shoulder with butchers and ironmongers, mixed in together like some haphazard stew.

Everywhere strange eyes regarded her, yet she felt hidden somehow. No one knew who she was—she was merely a stranger, one of many in that place. And her plain, dirty work frock certainly didn't make her stand out from the crowd. Perhaps there was a kind of shelter to be found in the crowded places, after all.

Still she could not help but wonder at Xan's words—a friend saw them, he said. Which friend? Who else was here who knew them? Anna thought of Ajantis, but surely the elf would have mentioned him by name. But there was nothing to do but wait and ask.

She bought food and a few necessary sundries then returned to the house. A small rag rug was her best purchase—a simple thing, but it would bring some colour to the drab room. Anna resolved as well to buy some new fabric for curtains but that would have to wait. She stuffed the dry mattress with fresh straw, managing somehow to push the fat thing up the stairs and set it back over the precarious bed frame. With an exhausted sigh she began peeling some vegetables for a pottage for supper.

Finn returned in the twilight, his heavy steps plain on the stairs. He came through the open door with a slightly worried expression on his face.

"Ey up. You're not locking this?"

Anna rose up from the table with a shrug.

"Shut doors are considered rather unsociable here, I gather. Ella says no one even has a key for the front door."

He frowned. "I don't much fancy that."

"No, but I suppose they think no one would try robbing a houseful of Flaming Fist," she sighed.

"It's not robbery I'm worried about," Finn muttered, giving her a squeeze.

"Did anything happen today?" she asked anxiously.

"No, not a thing," he said. "They had me guarding a warehouse all day. Boring as hells, to be honest."

Anna thought that boredom was preferable to the alternative in their case, but she said nothing.

She lit a candle while Finn washed, then spooned out two bowlfuls of pottage from the small iron cookpot. It had a faint scent of cinnamon which cheered the air somewhat. Finn broke off a piece of brown bread and began scooping the stew into his mouth.

"We had a visitor today," Anna said. "Xan."

Finn paused, looking at her in surprise.

"What was he doing here?" he asked through a mouthful of food.

"He wanted to ask us the same question," she said flatly. "I gather he finds out arrival rather foolish."

Finn snorted. "He would. I'm surprised he came here—I didn't think he'd be able to remember our names after all this time. Though he's not wrong," he added.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Nothing, really. But you know Xan—humans are like something stuck to his boot. I wouldn't have reckoned he'd give us a second thought now. But how did he find us, anyway?"

"He saw us somehow," Anna said. "But I don't think you're being entirely fair. Xan's done as much for us as anyone, probably more."

"Great—the streets have eyes," Finn remarked. "But why are you his champion all of a sudden? Didn't think you fancied him much, either."

Anna began to speak but paused—somehow she couldn't say that the elf was the one who gave her the rogue stone that saved Finn's life.

"Don't you like him?" she asked instead.

"I don't hate him," Finn shrugged. "But it's hard to like someone when you know deep down they don't much care for you."

Anna drew a faint breath.

"You and Maya never got along, either."

"Well, you can't blame me for that," he frowned. "I never said one cross word to her. That woman was just determined not to like me. I could've come home king of all the world, and she'd still think I was some no-good tramp who corrupted her pure little mistress. I never did anything to her, and you know it."

Anna's eyes narrowed but she said nothing. They finished the little meal and she did the washing up while Finn busied himself with a game of solitaire. She settled down to some much-needed mending, but they soon heard a light knock on the door.

...

Finn asked for the knocker's name before drawing open the bolt, but Anna didn't have much doubt. Xan stepped inside and Finn drew the bolt closed again.

"Good evening," the elf said. "I am not interrupting you, I hope?"

"Naw, mate, it's alright," Finn replied, sounding more cheerful than before. "Pull up a chair."

Xan thanked him and took a seat in one of the creaking chairs. Anna greeted the elf and poured their guest a cup of wine. He took a sip but quickly set it back down again.

"So what brings you here?" Finn asked, gathering up the cards. "I was a bit surprised to hear you'd stopped by."

"As I told Anna, I wished to know if there were any reason behind your return to the city," Xan said. "I could not hope it was just for a casual visit."

"Afraid not," Finn said grimly. "We have got business here, but not much I'm at liberty to talk about. You'll understand that, I wager."

"Yes, quite," the elf said. "I would not expect you to reveal your orders to me. However, with all the rumours we have been hearing...I fear that something is in motion, but I have not been able to ascertain exactly what."

"What have you heard?" Anna asked.

"It is said the Dukes have the Flaming Fist massing in Beregost. An impending attack by Amn seems the most prominent whisper. The Amnish ambassador has rigorously denied any such thing, but he has never been a popular figure here. I do not care for him myself—a bloated little man, filled with his own self-importance," he stated, his lip curling slightly.

"You're right in part," Finn said.

He proceeded to tell him of the events that drew them north, though he left out the tale of his own miraculous escape. While he never said so, Anna could tell the loss of his comrades had shaken him hard. Xan listened intently, his brow knotting deeper as Finn's tale progressed. He kept his gaze fixed on the table, softly pressing his thumb to his forehead over and over.

"Your commander was right to question," Xan sighed at last. "Always you must ask yourself of a person's motivations. What drives them to act? Answer that and you may be able to predict their next move. But I too have asked myself what Anchev would have to gain from war. The iron plague benefitted him, certainly, but this? Unless he is a more complex figure than any of us guessed...the conclusions are wrong. We can only assume then that in some way, we have stated the problem wrong."

He bit on his thumb, thinking.

"Who do you think is behind this?" Anna asked.

"If only I knew—I could report to Evereska and be done with this wretched place forever. But no," Xan sighed again. "I have no answers. Only problems, and facts that make no sense."

"What are the Dukes saying?" Finn asked. "Have you had any more meetings with them?"

The elf shook his head. "No, they are closed to me. I did try pulling on diplomatic strings, but I only ever deal with their underlings. It is always tomorrow, tomorrow. I am used to dealing with such things, to be frank, but I fear our time grows short."

"Do you ever see Ajantis?" Anna asked quietly.

"Occasionally. He is lodging now at the Temple of the Watcher. This business wears on him a great deal, I fear. A forthright paladin is not the best suited for dealing with intrigue. Yet, still he remains."

Anna said nothing; she knew intrigue wasn't likely the only trouble burdening the knight.

"But the hour grows late," Xan said, rising to his feet. "I thank you for the wine, but I will take my leave."

The elf's wine was still untouched. Finn sighed and rose up from the table, stretching out his long frame carefully under the low ceiling.

"Alright," he said. "Though if you see us in the street again there's no need to be a stranger. You could've come up and said hello."

Xan's mouth twitched.

"Yes. But I was not the one who saw you—it was a friend. I only learned of your presence later."

"But who was it?" Anna asked. "You never did say."

"A friend," the elf said firmly.

"A friend," Finn repeated, his mouth curling into a grin. "With most men that'd mean a lady friend. Have you found yourself a woman, Xan?"

Although he clearly meant the statement as a joke, the expression that passed over the enchanter's face sent Finn into a burst of laughter.

"Oh, aye? He has! Look at him, he's turned red as a beet!" Finn teased. "Finally getting your end away? Good lad. So who's the unlucky lady, then?"

_"Oh, _Finn—stop!" Anna exclaimed.

Her own cheeks turned pink from the comments, and she glanced warily at the elf. Xan's face had gone from surprised embarrassment to a darker expression, and he glared at Finn.

"There is no _woman," _he said tersely. "And I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from any such insinuations."

"All right, all right," Finn chuckled, looking surprised himself. "I was only joking."

Xan muttered something in reply, his face still red. Finn stood looking at him in bemused silence, but Anna let out a sigh.

"Where are you staying in the city?" she asked.

Xan looked for a moment if he wasn't sure whether he should reveal that information, but he sighed as well.

"At the Golden Hind, near the Hall of Wonders. We have rooms there."

Finn's face twitched again at the 'we' but he clapped the elf on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"Alright. Well, don't be a stranger. We're on the same side here, and we should stay in touch."

Xan glanced at Anna and she tried to give him a sympathetic look. The elf bade them a quick goodbye then made his retreat down the stairs. Finn bolted the door behind him, still chuckling.

"I'd be surprised if we ever saw him again after that treatment," Anna said.

"Oh, come on," Finn replied. "Don't know why he can't take a little ribbing. But I'm curious now to see this woman of his. Any lady that could put up with that fellow deserves a medal."

"Some might say the same of you," she said archly. "Besides, he said he didn't have a lady."

Finn gave her a naughty look.

"Aye, but his face said different. But I'm more interested in my own lady—what say we break in this bed here?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist and she gave him a look of her own.

"I think it's pretty well near broken already."

"Ah, well. I like a challenge."

Finn scooped her off her feet and carried her over to the bed. Anna squealed in protest, but it quickly turned into hysterical laughter as their combined weight loosened the slats, sending half the bed sliding with a loud clump to the floor. They lay tangled up together, struggling to breathe through their laughter as they fought to free themselves from the wreckage.

...

Finn departed the next morning on another mission into the unknown. Anna however knew where she needed to go. After he left she borrowed an iron from Ella and smoothed out her woad-blue frock on the table. Fashion had been the last thing on her mind when she scrambled to pack in Beregost, but somehow her good dress managed to find its way in. It was a far cry from her lovely left-behind silk, but it was decent at least.

She wrapped her old brown cloak around her and headed out onto the streets. The weather said rain that morning, and the sky was a solid sheet of grey. After a few short errands Anna made her way through the gate in the wall, up into the better part of town.

She mounted the steps to the Temple of Helm with a bit of trepidation, but she was determined on her journey. The interior was as sombre as she remembered but she didn't see the face she sought. Anna made enquiries with a priest and he directed her back to a series of cells behind the main temple.

An unknown warrior passed by her with a nod. She walked up to a rough wooden door and knocked lightly. There was no answer. Anna knocked again, wondering if the occupant was there, but she jumped at a call from inside.

_"Enter,"_ came the terse reply. Anna drew open the heavy door. The chamber made their own room look palatial by comparison; it was scarcely wide enough for the narrow bed, and the high-set window threw a patch of grey light onto the bare stone walls.

Ajantis lay on the bed, regarding some book or journal. He looked up when she entered and his face went pale in surprise.

"My lady?" he asked.

He seemed so surprised that he didn't move. Anna smiled in greeting but her eyes looked at him in alarm. Xan had said the knight wasn't faring well, but she did not expect to see him so pale and thin. His shoulders were still broad but his cheeks were hollow, and she detected a heavy red stubble on his chin that she had never seen before.

"Good morning, Sir Ajantis," Anna said. "I—brought you these."

She held out a small sack, suddenly feeling foolish. Ajantis sat up and took it wonderingly, but his tired mouth smiled regarding the contents.

"Oranges," the knight said. "Thank you."

Anna nodded her head in return, but on regarding the state of him she wished she'd brought an entire breakfast.

"But how are you here?" he asked, finally rising from the bed. "How long have you been in the city?"

"Only a couple of days. Xan told us where you were staying—Finn and I."

"I see."

The knight seemed to remember his manners, and bowed slightly.

"It is good to see you again, my lady. Though I would not have expected that you would journey north again at this time of year. It is not truly a time for a holiday."

"No, well, we aren't here for a visit," Anna hesitated. "Finn is in the Flaming Fist now."

"Indeed?" Ajantis said, surprised. "That is a good career for a man. Although, I—"

"It is surprising, I know," she remarked. "And the timing is not good."

"No," he sighed.

They both were silent. Neither seemed to be sure what to say. Anna felt awkward, wondering if she should have come at all.

"Have you...been wed, then?" Ajantis finally asked.

"Yes," she replied, flushing and touching her ring.

A faint smile flickered over his face.

"Then I am happy for you."

"Are you?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he said, and his smile grew stronger.

Anna smiled, but her cheeks grew warm and she looked at the floor. Ajantis suddenly seemed to snap into animation.

"Forgive me—I have forgotten hospitality today. Would you care to sit—" he began, but paused noticing the chair was decorated with his arms and an old tunic. "Or perhaps you would rather go for a walk?"

"That's fine," she said, laughing a little.

...

The knight drew on his boots, straightened his jacket collar and showed her back into the hall. They went into the temple gardens but Ajantis looked up at the sky with a frown.

"I fear the weather will not be our friend, my lady."

"Well, it's not raining yet," Anna replied.

Ajantis smiled, looking brighter than he had in the cell. He offered Anna his arm and they walked slowly around the gardens. Typical for a temple dedicated to the Watcher no flowers were present, and the only remaining plants Anna could identify were ones used for healing. All was in perfect order though, and not a stone in the paths was out of place. They stopped at a plain bench and sat down.

"Tell me, how does Finn find life in the Flaming Fist?" Ajantis asked. "You said he had earned the rank of officer already—that is most impressive."

"He seemed to like it," Anna replied. "Although we have had some—difficulty."

Quietly she related their troubles, with as much detail as she felt able to give. Ajantis looked alarmed and sat rubbing his stubbly chin thoughtfully.

"My nation would never do such a thing," he said with conviction. "Never. We have our faults, but also our limits. I pray the Dukes have the ability to see that."

"Have you spoken with them recently?"

"No," he sighed. "In truth, I—have accomplished little since you departed."

Anna gave him a brief smile and he continued, talking quickly.

"The Order allowed me to remain and do whatever I could to alleviate the situation here. But that does not appear to be much. I am a foreigner, a citizen of a country that receives little love in this city of late. Few seem willing to heed my words."

"Allowed, not commanded?" Anna said.

Ajantis started. "Yes. It was—my decision."

They went quiet again. Ajantis still rubbed his chin, but his face had a different expression.

"How was your sister's wedding?" she asked gently.

"Perfect, according to her letters," he smiled. "Although I do not know if she will ever forgive me for not attending. She and her bridegroom are still on their wedding trip to the hot springs of Lake Esmel. It is a fine time of the year to be there."

Anna nodded, but Ajantis drew a breath.

"And you will no doubt want to know what became of mine," he said.

"Is it still arranged?"

"Yes," he said gravely. "I could not withdraw from this contract, not if I placed any value on the family honour. I elected to stay here for as long as I could—I could do little else, with the troubles here—but I cannot avoid my duty. I thought to return home before the snow begins to fly."

Anna was silent; there seemed little for her to say. He spoke as a man who had made up his mind.

"How is Imoen?" Ajantis asked quietly. "Has she come with you?"

"She is well, but Finn has sent her to Candlekeep to wait out these troubles."

"I see," he said. "Perhaps that is for the best."

"He thought so."

A light spattering of drops began to fall from the dark sky. Ajantis looked up.

"And the prophecy arrives. At least it is not snow—I admit I am a man of milder climes."

"Are you well?" Anna asked suddenly.

He smiled at her, though his eyes were still grave.

"Yes. I apologise for my appearance...I have paid little heed to my toilet of late. I do feel somewhat under the weather, but I'm certain your oranges will bring me vitality again."

Anna smiled back, though she had the feeling the knight was as well in body as she. His troubles had a different source.

They retreated from the rain. Anna declined the knight's offer to stay longer; the temple was gloomy and she wanted to return to her own little cell before the weather grew worse. She left Ajantis with a promise from him to call on them soon and hurried home under the weeping sky.

A few remnants of soaked laundry still hung on the lines, waiting in hope for the return of the sun. Anna stepped into the entryway and shook the rain off her hood and cloak. She paused though, surprised to see a tall figure on the stairs. She thought for one moment it might be Finn, but the figure turned at her step and her heart caught in her throat.

_"You—_what are you doing here?"

Anna stammered, frightened, and took a step back. The figure walked slowly down the stairs, the boards groaning under his weight.

"Do not be afraid, good lady," he said. "I have only come to talk."

He stepped into the grey light, a smile on his strong face. Anna took another step back; the assurances of Sarevok Anchev meant little to her.


	74. Sarevok's Party

"Please," Anchev said. "I mean you no harm. My informants told me you had returned to the city, and I felt the need to seek you out."

He smiled again and stepped forward, reaching out to her from under his fine velvet cloak. Anna caught sight of the heavy sword there and stepped further back.

"We have nothing to say to you. Leave now, or I will raise the alarm. This is a barracks of the Flaming Fist, you know."

Anchev laughed. "And so well guarded it is that they don't bother to lock the door. But I say again, I am only here to talk. Would I arrive in the middle of the afternoon if I meant you harm? Any decent assassin would wait till after nightfall."

He tried to make a joke, but it was lost on her. He seemed to sense his pleas were making little headway and he spoke more seriously.

"I understand why you would regard my visit with suspicion, but I do only wish to speak. It is important, and I feel my words would interest you."

"Finn isn't here," Anna began, but mentally pinched herself for revealing that information.

"I did not think he would be," Anchev replied. "But are you incapable of speaking for yourself?"

"Then speak, if you must," she said tersely.

"Not here, surely. The hall is hardly a haven of privacy. Could we not go to your quarters? I give you my word I shall be a gentleman."

Anna had little idea what to do. She knew she should send him away, but she also wanted to hear his words. She thought for a moment that she shouldn't reveal their room, but that seemed ridiculous—he'd found their home already. With a quick gesture she directed him up the stairs and unlocked the chamber door.

"I see the Flaming Fist spares no expense," Anchev said to himself, looking around the drab room.

He shut the door behind him. Anna threw him a look and opened it a crack.

"Speak quickly," she managed to say. "Your time here will be short."

Anchev turned to her, a smile on his face.

"Direct to the point. I approve. Now, I cannot know for certain why you are here, but I am a reasonably good guesser. The Flaming Fist, well aware of your reputation, has sent you to investigate the troubles in this city. Am I correct?"

Anna flinched and said nothing.

"But you feel quite lost. Where is this evidence to be found, _hm? _It is not in the open, certainly, or it would have been exposed by now. But I can tell you where it is—exactly where it was when you departed the city. In my father's villa, and in his own vile mind."

"But the Iron Throne doesn't—" she began, but stopped under his gaze.

"You would be surprised, the things they do," he said, his deep voice almost purring. "Or perhaps not. I do not know the level of depravity you have been exposed to in your life. But I myself have seen a great deal. And I would be willing to show it to you, as well."

Anna stepped back, bumping against the table. Anchev though just chuckled.

"I did not intend any perversity," he said. "But I wanted to offer you an invitation. There is a ball at my father's villa tonight, a celebration of yet another business conquest. I should very much like for you and Finn to attend."

He held out a gilded parchment and Anna stared at him blankly.

"A party? At the Iron Throne? But..."

"Don't concern yourself over safety—my father leaves his mind so far behind him at these affairs that he barely even recognises his own son. You would be perfectly safe, I assure you. None would give you a second glance."

"But..." Anna hesitated. She fingered the elaborate invitation and a more mundane thought suddenly washed over her. "We wouldn't have anything to wear."

A wide smile appeared on Anchev's face.

"Of course. I could arrange to have suitable attire sent over—it would be no trouble at all. But can I count on your attendance?"

Anna shook her head, almost feeling like she'd strayed into a dream. A bad dream.

"But what would you expect us to _do? _We couldn't..."

"Do? What does one ever do at a ball? Drink, dance, laugh at the absurd hats. But do come. I would have more words for you there."

"I will...talk to Finn about it," she said slowly.

"Then I could ask no more," Anchev replied. "Until tonight."

He bowed formally but Anna stayed frozen. As soon as he left she rushed to the door and bolted it. She collapsed down onto the bed, breathing hard and wondering what in all the hells had just happened.

...

She spent an anxious afternoon pacing the floor and worrying. Anchev proved true to his word though and a pair of well-dressed delivery boys arrived before long with armfuls of silk and velvet. They looked around at the surroundings in a snobby surprise, but Anna tipped them well and they departed. She spread the clothes out onto the rough wool blanket that covered the bed, staring at them and wondering if she were truly awake.

Anna was still gazing at them when she heard Finn's step on the stairs. She open the door cautiously to confirm his presence, then went back to staring.

"What's all this?" Finn asked. "I know I said to do some shopping, but..."

He looked puzzled as though he'd come home to find a circus set up in their chamber. Anna tried as best she could to explain, but before she got far Finn interrupted her.

_"No._ No chance! There is no chance in the hells that we are going there. What in...I tell you, I am _going_ round to the ironmonger's first thing tomorrow—I don't care how bloody free and easy it is here, there's going to be a lock on that door!"

He continued ranting to himself but Anna shook her head.

"Oh, Finn—what are we going to do? They know where we are. A lock won't make any difference."

"We need to move, that's what," he said. "Find somewhere safer."

"And where is that going to be?" she burst out. "They found us here after only two days. The city's not all that large. We couldn't hide. We just need to face things."

Finn drew a shaking breath and looked at her.

"You're right. It still gets me worked up though, to even think that bastard was in here with you. I don't like it. I don't."

Anna sighed. "Well...he didn't do anything. He could have, but he didn't."

"Aye—he was just setting us up for later. Get us into a more convenient spot."

"More convenient than here?" she remarked. "Anyone could just walk up those stairs, no one would ever know the difference."

"You're not saying you want to go to this thing, are you?" Finn asked, surprised.

"I don't, but—what else can we do? Anchev might know something. He said he did. I don't trust him either, but it wouldn't do any harm to hear him speak. Is there any reason you couldn't go?"

"No, I'm off duty," he said, his mouth twisting. "But even so...a party at the Iron Throne? It's mad. We might as well find a nice cliff to jump off."

Anna didn't say anything, and Finn let out a long groan.

"Well...in for a copper, as they say. Listen, though—if there's even a _hint _of trouble..."

"We'll run for the nearest door," Anna agreed. "Shall we...dress then?"

Finn shook his head, muttering dark things to himself. They washed quickly and tried to settle into their clothes. The gown Anchev had sent over was remarkable—yards of rich wine-coloured velvet, trimmed in gold and hints of dark blue silk. The sleeves hung down long, falling past her knees. But the stays were so tight she needed all of Finn's help to get them laced.

_"Oh, gods," _she gasped as he gave the strings a final pull. "I can barely breathe!"

"Maybe that's Anchev's plan, eh? Death by fashion," Finn remarked. "Though I don't suppose he could really get your size right."

"Actually, I fear he did," Anna sighed, sizing her shrunken waist. "Tight bodices are back in style, it would seem."

"Better you than me, love," he said. "But this jacket's so stiff I'm not far behind you."

He tugged at the high collar trying to earn his neck some room. It was fine work in forest green, with bright gold silk showing through the slits in the sleeves. But it seemed the clothiers had misjudged his size; the sleeves were noticeably short and the entire jacket looked shrunken on his body.

Anna's ensemble came complete with a beaded snood; a fortunate thing, for it would help hide her unwashed hair. The slippers were slightly too large but she sacrificed a kerchief to stuff in the toes. An elaborate jewelled pendant that Anna sincerely hoped was paste dangled just before the curve of her cleavage, which was driven skyward by the tight bodice.

"I'd forgive Anchev just for giving me that sight," Finn remarked.

His eyes twinkled at her and Anna gave him a look.

"If you're ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he said, fastening his sword belt tight on his hip. "But if they say I can't bring this in, the whole thing's off."

"Don't worry—the nobility are fond of parading their arms," she sighed. "You'd be a stranger sight without a blade."

"Nice to know everyone will be armed," he muttered. "Well, let's go do this."

"Wait...there's just one thing."

Anna quickly scrawled a note onto a piece of wrapping paper, for she had no spare parchment. She sealed it in candle wax and passed it to one of their neighbours with a few coins and an instruction. The lad headed off into the night and Anna and Finn hurried in another direction.

"I'd rather someone knew where we were heading," she said.

"Good idea," Finn said grimly.

...

Anna shivered in the night air; the clothiers hadn't brought her a cape, and her battered wool cloak would look absurd over the finery. The rain had ceased but feeling a drop strike her cheek she wondered if she made the right choice. Rain would be ruinous on the velvet and someone would certainly want the expensive dress back. They hurried through the streets, avoiding the eyes of those who sized up the well-dressed couple. Soon the Iron Throne compound rose up before them, its many windows lit up like fire.

The compound was half a place of business and half residence; Rieltar Anchev liked his comfort, and had little interest in leaving his sanctum to earn his coin. But earn it he clearly did—when the Iron Throne came to the city they hired every artisan they could find to put their touches on the building, and the result was said to be either miraculous or tasteless depending on whom one asked.

The ball was in full swing and the sounds of music and talk drifted over the outer wall. Fine carriages pulled in to the gates long enough to deposit their precious charges then clattered away again into the night.

A guard eyed their arrival on foot somewhat suspiciously, but after repeated examinations of their invitation and a few smiles from Anna he allowed them to enter the compound. The wide doors were open, casting a warm light out onto the wet paving stones. Finn looked at her.

"You still up to this?" he asked.

He seemed to be asking himself the question as much as her. She didn't reply but squeezed his hand. Finn drew himself upright and they mounted the marble steps. Another guard took their invitation and Anna cringed hearing their names announced to all and sundry, but if their entrance caused a stir there was no sign.

It had been many years since Anna had attended a gathering like this, but she still tried to reassure herself that she would know what to expect. After all, she'd been to the royal palace in Suzail and formal balls in Silverymoon. Looking out over the wide central hall though she found her expectations firmly dashed.

Mingling in with the elite of Baldur's Gate were a number of what Anna might generously call dancing girls. Their skirts were of the sheerest silk and most forewent any sort of top, relying instead on paint or well-placed jewellery to hide their forms. A few seemed to dispose of even that modesty and whirled about the hall entirely bare-chested. Anna's cheeks went bright red but her embarrassment faded looking at Finn's face.

"You can put your tongue away," she muttered.

"Sorry, love," he stammered. "Just I never—fecking hells, what's _she _got on?"

'Nothing' seemed to be the best answer for the woman in question, and Anna promptly steered him away. They skirted the edges of the hall, unsure of what to make of the affair. The nobles in attendance all seemed to find it massively entertaining however, and flirted and laughed over their fine goblets. The dancers whirled ecstatically and acrobats of both genders emulated acts that Anna herself didn't entirely appreciate on platforms above the crowd.

"Is this what rich people do with their coin?" Finn asked, unable to take his eyes off the scene.

"Apparently so," she replied, feeling suddenly thankful for her own modest income.

As they stood watching a well-toned man in tight leggings came and kneeled before Anna, holding an apple between his teeth.

"Can I be of service to my lady?" the man asked, holding out the fruit to her.

Anna stared at him but Finn's face went bright red.

"I'll perform a bloody service on you, if you don't clear out of here," he said, grasping at his sword. "Shove off!"

The man merely looked irritated and went to find another target. Anna let out a short laugh in spite of herself, and Finn glared at her.

"This was a bad idea," he said. "What the hells does Anchev want by dragging us here? I've already got a woman, I'm not looking to hire one for the night."

"I'm relieved," Anna said dryly. "But I haven't even seen him. Where is he?"

She'd been looking for their quarry since they arrived but so far she'd caught no sight of him. Anchev must easily stand a head over the rest of the crowd, and if he was there she would have spotted him. But he was not to be seen.

"Maybe he's forgotten about us," Finn said. "Though if he doesn't show quick we're out of here."

...

They retreated to a corner, standing close together as they watched the surreal scene unfold. The gentry of Baldur's Gate were usually quite staid, at least in public, but the party looked more like something a Calishite pasha might dream up. Along with the acrobats and mad dancing were endless tables of food that seemed more for show than eating. Whole roasted pigs and colourful peacocks still in their feathers decorated the display, and fanciful palaces of glazed sugar and gold towered high above the tables. Small fountains of magical design cascaded endlessly with wine, forming ruby rivers in the golden basins. Anna kept her eyes more on the crowd though, and at last she caught sight of the man.

Sarevok Anchev was exquisitely dressed in a suit of sapphire blue, and bar the feathered cap he might well have been mistaken for some foreign prince. He walked languidly through the hall, stopping now and then to share a word and a smile with the guests. A true beauty hung on his arm, speaking to the guests in turn. She laughed and tossed her golden head but Anna couldn't help but think Anchev seemed somehow irritated by her presence.

He spotted Anna and Finn huddled together in the corner, and approached with the woman still clinging to him like a limpet.

"You have arrived," he said, bowing in greeting. "I am most pleased to see you."

Anchev took up Anna's hand in a light kiss and the woman on his arm frowned.

"Are these the people you were talking about, Sarrie?" she asked, running her eyes lightly over them.

"Do they look like Turmish merchants to you?" he replied shortly, and the woman gave him a look. "No. But if you'd kindly leave us, Cythandria, we do have business to discuss."

The woman gave him an even darker look, but she sashayed off without another word.

"Lady troubles?" Finn said.

The words didn't sound kind, but Anchev let out a chuckle.

"No more than usual. Dear Cythie is actually rather bright, but not the best at working out when she's not wanted. Although I'm afraid I have just used you as an excuse to free myself from her—my father has not yet retreated to his chambers, and it would not be safe to speak."

"We've not seen your father," Anna remarked, thinking it odd both the hosts would be gone for so long.

Anchev drew a face. "If you haven't seen him it is because he is taking part of the private entertainments upstairs. Only selected guests are allowed there, though you should count yourself fortunate not to be counted among them."

"Yeah," Finn said. "This is quite the little...party you've got here."

He looked out over the hall with vague disgust, and Anchev nodded.

"It's not my doing," he insisted. "I have no use for these harlots. But my father has been holding such gatherings ever since I can remember. It makes the men full of their own virility, and they begin to imagine themselves better in business dealings than they actually are. A clever trick, if not crass. But there is no end to the willing victims."

"I can't imagine what his wife must think of it," Anna remarked idly.

A strange look passed over Anchev's face and he spoke through clenched teeth.

"My mother thought what she was told to think. Rieltar used to set that gentle woman up on a dais, calling her the Queen of Whores. He would make her choose the women who would pleasure him that night. Perhaps it is a blessing then that she is dead."

Anna's mouth opened and she looked to the floor, but Anchev shook off his mood.

"But there is little point in calling up the dead. Please, mingle and enjoy yourselves in whatever fashion you can. There is fine wine here, if nothing else. My father always sees to that. I shall find you when it is safe to speak."

Anchev bowed once more and returned to the party, leaving Anna and Finn staring after him.

...

Anna felt an even greater desire to leave the madness behind her, but they still stayed. Mingle they did not though and their strained faces must have seemed an odd sight in the joyous gathering. But Anna caught sight of a familiar visage across the room, huddling like themselves against a wall for shelter. She tugged on Finn's sleeve and they braved the hall to make their way over to him.

Edmund Jhasso slowly looked up from his goblet at their approach. He seemed red-faced and ill-looking, a shadow of the active young man they'd met before. His mouth opened and he spoke.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, plainly surprised.

"We had an invitation," Finn said bluntly. "I'm surprised you're here, as well. I'd have thought the Iron Throne is the last place you'd want to be."

Edmund suddenly became animated.

"I'd rather be burning in the abyss," he said. "Some days it seems like I am. But when Rieltar Anchev invites you somewhere, you don't decline. He loves to rub our noses in the fact that he's our master now."

He took a clumsy sip of wine, and from his slurred words Anna gathered he was rather drunk.

"We heard about that. I'm sorry," Finn said.

Edmund nodded, a sour look on his face.

"It's all gone to the abyss. Father doesn't even get out of bed anymore. He only rambles nonsense. Something about a silver coin. Tells me to get the coin. But we don't have any, Father! It's all gone! Rieltar gives us an _allowance. _Allowance! And Mother—she's gone so _cold. _She's stopped caring. She doesn't care about us, or Father, or—"

"Have you never brought in a healer for him?" Anna asked, interrupting his drunken rant.

"Mother saw to it. Found some fellow we'd never heard of. Said he was the best—but Father still can't get out of bed. He dribbles like an idiot all day. How is that—but wait. Do you still have that elf of yours? The one who came to see him—he said he was an enchanter. He said he could help Father. Could you bring him back? We need him. Celia and I, we don't know what to do..."

He grasped pleadingly at Finn, who turned quickly to avoid a sloshing of wine.

"We could try, I reckon," he said. "Although in honesty, we're not really part of a group anymore."

"Well, why don't you ask him?" Edmund slurred. "He's only right over there!"

He pointed with his goblet, splashing more wine onto the fine marble floor. Anna and Finn turned in surprise. The elf was indeed present and making a bee line in their direction, his expression dark enough to part the crowd before him.

"Oh, hells—now we're in for an earful," Finn muttered.

...

_"Fools," _Xan hissed when he was within range. _"Amaderea. _Each time I feel you have reached your limits, you discover yet new ways of surpassing them."

"And a good evening to you, too," Finn said.

Xan glared at him. "I think you could forgive me for dispensing with pleasantries this time. By all the stars, what are you doing here?"

He folded his arms in his sleeves, glaring at them like a cross schoolmaster.

"We were invited," Anna said. "Sarevok Anchev said he wanted to speak with us. I said that in my note."

"And so you thought a party at his home, surrounded by his guards would be an excellent opportunity?" Xan replied, still snapping. "You are fools."

Anna bristled, but before either she or Finn could reply Edmund collapsed onto the elf.

_"You! _So good to see you...you have no idea," he said, groping at his collar. "Come to my house. Right now. You can help my father."

Xan grabbed the young man's hands, trying to pull him off in surprise. He exclaimed something in Elvish but a clear and sweet voice sounded behind them.

_"Oh, Eddie! _Are you making a soppy fool of yourself again? I swear, we can't let you near a wine bottle anymore. Unhand that poor man right now!"

Anna turned to see an attractive, dark-haired girl gliding up to them. She looked at them all with a laugh and proceeded to disentangle the drunk Edmund with ease. He clung to the slender woman's shoulder instead, making her wobble on her feet.

"Oh, Skie—I'm sorry. Mister...elf, I'm sorry. I just..."

"Here comes the fountain," the woman said, patting Edmund on the head. "I'm glad you're such a forward-thinking fellow, Eddie—not many men are strong enough to cry in public."

Whether her remark was intended to have the effect or no, Edmund suddenly righted himself.

"I'm not crying," he insisted while wiping his eyes. "Actually...Skie...I think I might be..."

His body jerked as he held back a retch. The young woman's cheery expression quickly faded.

"Oh, no. Oh, no. _Sailors _get sick on the floor, Edmund—not gentlemen. Come along, we'll get you to—you there, won't you be a dear and help me? I'm afraid I won't get him to safety in time."

The woman gently touched Finn's arm, giving him a resigned smile. Finn glanced at Anna but there didn't seem to be much he could say, and he helped her drag the young Jhasso off so he could complete the business in private.

"A blessing from the Seldarine," Xan remarked, watching them depart.

He adjusted his cloak where the young man had been pulling at it and turned to Anna.

"Can you help him?" she asked, before he had a chance to launch into another round of abuse.

The elf deflated, and he sighed. "If only I could. His condition seemed near hopeless the last time we spoke, and from what I have heard it has improved none. I do not think I could help that man, not without devoting years to his care."

Anna sighed herself and looked around the room. The party had mellowed somewhat, and a number of nobles danced around the hall in a more respectable fashion.

"It was remarkably foolish of you to come here," Xan remarked, quieter than before. "I was of two minds whether or not to leave you to your folly. But I came, against my better judgement."

"I never asked you to follow us," Anna said. "But how did you get past the guards?"

Xan gave her a look and she didn't enquire further.

"In truth, I was curious myself," he admitted. "I certainly have received no offers from Anchev. He seems almost...drawn to you, somehow."

"I cannot imagine what he would see in me," she said, rather alarmed at the thought.

Xan's brow furrowed.

"I did not mean you."

Anna felt no better from the clarification. She noted some empty chairs behind them and went to sit down. Xan sat next to her, his eyes on the crowd.

"But why should he care about Finn?" she asked.

She glanced at the elf. His mouth twitched but he stayed silent. Anna drew as deep a breath as her painful corsets would allow. Xan sat rubbing a long index finger over his brow, as if trying to smooth something away. Whatever he was thinking though he kept it to himself.

...

Finn didn't return and Anna began to wonder where he was. Either Edmund was deathly ill or he had encountered trouble. She leaned forward, scanning the crowd for any sign of him.

The sudden sound of drums echoing made her jump. The crowd parted, making way for an energetic group of dancers that virtually flew down the stairs. The women bent and weaved with catlike grace, working through their routine to the insistent rhythm brought forth by the drummers. It was almost hypnotic to watch, and Anna leaned back in her chair.

The dancers broke apart, working their way through the crowd, teasing and gyrating for the pleased audience. One attractive dancer seemed to focus on Xan. Anna looked on in mild surprise as she showed him every grace of her lithe form, her bare feet striking the floor in perfect rhythm.

The elf though watched her impassively, looking bored and unconcerned with her efforts as a world-weary libertine. She gave him a glorious smile but he still didn't respond. At last the woman moved on in disgust, leaving Anna to wonder what was crossing her mind.

"You didn't find that entertaining?" she asked him.

"Not really. It is all rather obvious, don't you think? It lacks art."

"Perhaps," Anna replied, forcing down a smile. "But in fairness I don't think 'art' was really her intention, at least not the art you're thinking of."

The elf didn't reply, but a small smile curled out of the corner of his mouth. She thought for a moment how fine of face he actually was, with his hair that was growing long enough again to sweep around his shoulders as most elven men had. Little wonder the dancer had been so keen to attract his attention. Unfortunately for her though his personality rarely matched his outward appearance.

Anna looked up and caught sight of Finn pushing his way through the crowd. She was relieved to see him, but noted with some dismay that the young woman Skie had settled herself on his arm and was chattering away happily.

"I do want to apologise for poor Eddie's behaviour," she breathed when they approached. "His sister and I have always been chums, but Eddie's turned into such a _sop _anymore. He's really a lovely boy, though. I feel just awful for them. I even offered Celia some of my new dresses for the season, but she turned me down. Too much pride, I suppose. I'm so glad my father doesn't need to be involved in business—our fortune stays safe in the vault. At least until I make a trip to the dressmakers, of course!"

She seemed to utter the statement completely without guile, and her brown eyes widened dramatically. Finn coughed.

"Skie's father is Duke Silvershield."

Anna looked at the young woman in surprise, and she smiled.

"Oh, yes! Papa is a _very _important personage in this city. But he is most honoured to serve, and he takes his duty very seriously. Perhaps a little _too _seriously. He'd have an utter fit if he knew I was here tonight! He forbade it absolutely, but who could resist? Isn't this wild? It's just so..._dangerous!"_

She gestured grandly and spoke the word with delight. Anna wondered if she guessed at just how dangerous the Iron Throne might be, but she merely nodded.

"Will Edmund be alright?" she asked instead.

Lady Silvershield brushed away the intoxicated fellow with a wave of her hand.

"Yes, indeed. I played the part of nurse very well, even at risk of sacrificing these old rags," she said, touching her beautifully embroidered silk gown. "We saw to it that he was safely into a carriage. The driver will see him home."

"Don't know where he was keeping it all," Finn remarked ruefully. "That skinny fellow has me beat, hands down."

Skie laughed delightedly at his statement. Finn's eyebrow raised, but he looked pleased enough. Before any of them could say anything else a richly lilting voice came through the crowd.

...

"Oh, Skie—naughty creature. I have been looking _everywhere_ for you. Have you found some new friends, my dearest?"

Anna turned, surprised to see none other than the high-strung bard they saw so long ago in the Elfsong. He shook his head at the young woman in mock-despair.

"Oh, Eldoth—were you worried about me?" Skie replied. "How very manly of you. Yes, I have met some delightful new people—they helped me put poor Edmund away."

The pair engaged in a rather nauseating display of affection, and Anna sincerely hoped that she and Finn didn't look that way to others. Skie smoothed her hair and smiled.

"Yes, this is Finn, and...Arna? No, Anna, silly me. And I did not catch your name, good sir?"

She looked at Xan hopefully but the elf merely shook his head. She looked rather put out but the bard spoke, a lazy smile drifting over his face.

"Charming, I am sure."

His accent was as pleasing as his singing voice, and it rose and fell like water. Skie threw her attention back to him.

"But where have _you _been? You've left me at the absolute mercy of these wolves for the longest time."

Eldoth smirked. "And I'm sure you hated every moment of it. Darling Skie, it really is rather tiresome when you protest your virtue."

The woman pursed her lips and gave him as hard a stare as it seemed possible for her to give, but the bard graced her with a kiss.

"Never fear, beloved—you are a woman of intrigue, and the highest moral fibre. And you certainly keep me fascinated."

"And you still have not answered my question," Skie remarked, ignoring his bright smile.

Eldoth's handsome face lost its archness for a moment, and he gestured with a hand.

"Don't concern yourself. I was hardly off appreciating the virtues of other women—Drevor and Jerrand simply invited me for a round of whist."

Skie's face fell. "Oh, Eldoth! Not more gaming! Honestly, _I _am a better hand with the cards than you. You are just an absolute _lamb _to them. Please, no more. Haven't I said—"

The bard quickly laid his hands on her cheeks, silencing the woman.

"Dearest, this is not truly the time or place. Come, let me find you a drink for those ruby lips."

He took Skie by the arm and virtually dragged her away. Lady Silvershield fluttered her handkerchief in farewell, trying to keep up with his quick steps. Finn spoke.

"See you, then. I think I need a bath—could that fellow have been any oilier?"

"Just another example of the fine quality of youth in these lands," Xan remarked.

"I think his accent was from Ruathym," Anna said. "There's a fair number of those islanders settled here, as it happens."

Finn snorted. "Aren't they all a bunch of pirates? Suits him to put on airs."

Anna threw him a look.

"This party must be affecting you—your morality is all up in arms this evening."

...

Before he could reply the drums sounded an attention. The dancers retreated and the crowd slipped back, watching a hunched figure descending the stairs. All fell silent as Rieltar Anchev slowly worked his way down the staircase, followed as always by his armed contingent.

Xan pulled them back slightly. The crowd gave shelter but they could still make out the centre of the room. Anchev reached the bottom of the stairs and held up his white cane in greeting.

"Lords and ladies, gentlemen, and others," he began, and the crowd tittered politely at his jest. "I wished to thank you all for gracing my home tonight. As you well know, the Iron Throne and the Manycoins Merchant League have been something of rivals in this city—but no more. Master Sashenstar and myself have signed an agreement, one I hope will be mutually appetising. Aldeth, where are you? Say hello to the good people."

He looked around the room, and Anna started as a well-dressed man near them spoke in a loud voice.

"Here, Master Anchev. My wife and I were just enjoying your excellent wines."

He raised a goblet towards the man, but Anna didn't think either his nor his wife's expressions were especially warm. Rieltar though seemed pleased.

"Of course, of course. Only the best in the house of the Iron Throne. But, I have a confession to make. This deal was no so much a work of my own hands, but rather my son. Sarevok? Where are you, boy? Come here."

He tapped his cane on the floor as if summoning a dog. Sarevok materialised from the crowd and bowed before his father.

"Yes, yes," Rieltar continued. "My boy. My own son. Isn't he a fine specimen of a man? Look at him—strong as an ox, handsome as a prince. And a mind as keen as any usurper of the throne."

Sarevok looked startled, but he only bowed his head. Rieltar made a pained step forward.

"Yes, yes. You thought I wouldn't find out, didn't you? But the old man isn't so far gone yet."

He raised his stick, and struck Sarevok hard on the chest. He flinched at the blow but didn't move. Anna felt a jolt go through the crowd and she clutched at Finn's hand.

"Sacrificing half our fleet for some of the Manycoin's holdings in Cloakwood?" Rieltar exclaimed. "Did that seem wise to you? If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were trying to ruin us! What's a load of rotten old trees next to our ships, eh? Think about it!"

He struck Sarevok again. He fell back, his face red, but Rieltar only struck harder.

"Got nothing to say?" he cried. "Why are you flinching? You've gone soft, boy. _Soft!_ You weren't such a good investment, after all. I need a new son. Who here will be my son? _Who?"_

He turned to face the crowd, and the lords and ladies shrank back from him like children. Rieltar's eyes were wide and Anna couldn't bear to look in them. Except for the man's heavy breathing a pin could've been heard dropping—the room was dead silent. Rieltar looked around, his face red, his eyes wild and strange. The crowd had parted slightly before them, giving the madman a clear sight of the trio. Anna had a horrible sinking feeling as those eyes focused on Finn.

_"You!_ You there! You look like a good strong back. Tall too—almost as tall as my boy. What's your name? Speak quickly!"

Finn turned pale as a ghost, but then his cheeks flushed pink.

"Demna. Demna, sir."

Rieltar slowly chuckled, drawing in pained breaths. His big jewel-covered fist wobbled on his cane, his body seeming drained from his exertion.

"Good. Good. Demna. I'll remember it. Sarevok—where are you, boy?"

"I'm here, Father."

Sarevok hadn't moved an inch. His face bore an indescribable expression—an unholy mixture of hatred, loathing, and utter fear. For all his self-assured manner, he had a master after all. As soon as Rieltar turned though his expression vanished into complete neutrality.

"There you are," Rieltar croaked. "My son. Oh, my son. My beloved son—come to me. Comfort your old father."

Unbelievably the old man held open his arms for an embrace. Sarevok hesitated, then came and wrapped his arms around him. Rieltar pulled him down to his height, laying a tender kiss on both his cheeks.

"My son. My beautiful son—such a handsome child you were. And now...look at you."

Rieltar ran his hands down the frozen Sarevok's arms, nodding in approval. The old man wiped a tear from his eye then turned without a word, his cane tapping slowly back up the stairs. His contingent silently followed and the rest of the room stayed rooted to the spot, fixed by some kind of spell. A few whispers broke out as Rieltar vanished from view, and the room burst into animation again.

"Oh, fecking hells," Finn breathed.

He ran a hand over his face, and Anna noticed it shaking as much as her middle. Xan glared after the departed Anchev with an expression of absolute disgust. Anna wiped the sweat from her brow and glanced around the room.

Sarevok was still standing where Rieltar left him, but his attention seemed to be drawn to a corner of the room. Anna followed his eyes; A man stood there in a brown robe, a hood oddly covering his face in the warm hall. He disappeared from view though and she immediately forgot him.

"Let's get out of here," Finn said, his voice still shaking. "I've had enough of this for one night."

"A lifetime, you must mean," Xan replied. "I have seen all I need to."

They weren't by far the only ones making their way to the doors; Rieltar's outburst had effectively thrown cold water on the party and the scandalised nobles decided to take their entertainment elsewhere. Even the dancers huddled together in the corners till their handlers shooed them back onto the floor, in a vain attempt to corral the crowd.

As they walked Anna felt a touch on her arm, and she turned to see Sarevok Anchev.

"Please—I would not blame you for wishing to depart after that scene, but I beg you to hear what I have to say," he said quietly.

"And what would that be?" Xan remarked. "That your father is a criminal madman? We can see the truth of that for ourselves. If you wish our attention, your words must be revealing indeed."

He looked up at Sarevok. The man's expression hardened, but he nodded.

"They will be, Master Elf, I can assure you. Please, come with me."

The three of them looked at each other. Xan's face was ice cold, and Anna gave Finn a worried look. His brow knotted but he sighed.

"Alright, then. But this had better be bloody good."

A slight smile flickered over Sarevok's face. He bowed, and directed the three of them up the stairs.


	75. Seen and Unseen

Anchev led them down a maze of halls and chambers up to the quiet fourth floor. Anna could hardly process the size of the Iron Throne compound—it must be one of the largest buildings in the city, by far. Finn's face stayed grim, and he stared at Sarevok's back as if trying to set it on fire. Xan looked more neutral but his eyes were still like two chips of ice.

"Your dad didn't seem best pleased with you back there," Finn remarked.

He seemed almost mocking, and Anchev turned back to them.

"Indeed not, but I am not so much a fool as my father believes. Our surveyors have hinted at rich mineral deposits in that area of Cloakwood—a gamble perhaps, but one must take a chance to get ahead. And the bargain on Sashenstar's side was not such a good one—my father has paid little heed to maintaining his precious fleet, and our ships are in ill-repair. We are losing little."

"But the Iron Throne is already in possession of an iron mine," Xan said. "We are familiar with it ourselves."

Anchev's face hardened at his tone.

"We acquired that mine legally. However, due to...events, I feel it better that it remained sealed for now."

"I wouldn't blame you," Finn replied. "Your neck would be in a tender place if the Dukes were ever to work out what you were doing there."

Anchev's expression went darker but he ushered them down the hall. The three of them paused though, alarmed to see two armed men standing beside a door. The guards jumped to attention and Sarevok waved Anna and the others into the chamber.

"Do not fear—Prat and Tam are both loyal to me. They understand the danger my father has driven us into. They will ensure we are not disturbed. May I offer you port? A Sembian vintage, it is fine indeed."

Sarevok reached for a glass decanter, but none of them were inclined to take up his offer. Anna glanced around the room; it seemed like a sitting chamber, though the walls were cluttered with artefacts and other random bits. She had the feeling it was rarely used. Anchev poured himself a glass of the ruby port and turned back to them.

"Beautiful," he said, savouring the liquid. "It is aged for thirty years—rather strange, to be drinking of something that is older than oneself."

He sniffed the glass and Xan scowled impatiently.

"It is ancient, indeed. But we did not come here to discuss Sembian vineyards. Let us carry on with this, if you please."

Sarevok's lip twisted slightly and he set the glass on the cabinet.

"I would have thought an elf would be more open to aesthetic pursuits, but no matter. Even if you have no interest in my hospitality, I trust you will have more in my words. You must have learned yourselves by now that my father was instrumental in organising the iron crisis which so plagued this region. But when last we spoke I warned that his crimes were not at an end—and more right I was than even I dared fear. As we speak, Rieltar is striving for open war with Amn."

The announcement fell like a stone onto the rug, and the three of them looked at him blankly.

"Why would he do that?" Finn asked. "What would he get out of it?"

"Satisfaction for his own madness?" Anchev said. "I do not know that logic is such a concern with him of late. But in truth, I do not feel it is my father himself which is driving this thing. You know of the tight coterie that surrounds him. They coddle him, worship him—but as is so often the case with these things, they also manipulate him. Two of his men are brothers from Amn. I feel that they would have the most to gain."

"By bringing their nation into a war?" Finn said, still incredulous. "Not exactly fine patriots, are they?"

"Ah, but perhaps they are," Sarevok replied, taking another sip of port. "Or perhaps they think so."

"What are you referring to?" Xan asked.

The elf remained immobile on the carpet, gazing at Anchev with that frosty expression.

"I gather you know something of politics, Master Elf," he said. "And if you do, you would be well aware that the Council of Six's popularity has been on the wane for many years. There are many grumblings over their handling of the affairs in Maztica, and their seeming disinterest in the gathering beast army. And the rumours of secession that surround the all-important town of Riatavin have pushed them over the edge. Because of the Council's anonymity it is hard for the public to know where exactly to place the blame, but all fingers are now drawing towards Athkatla. Amn is growing restless, and fearful of its future."

"That still doesn't explain why they'd want a war with Baldur's Gate," Finn remarked. "The council would still be there, and the country would be left bleeding."

"I agree, but you are underestimating the Amnish vanity—it is a curious trait that all from that nation seem to possess," Sarevok said. "The army of Amn is one of the finest in the world, a source of great pride. By comparison Baldur's Gate is little more than a frontier keep, poorly equipped and poorly manned. In the face of it an Amnish triumph would be assured."

"But _why _though," Anna spoke. "Even if Amn could plough under this coast, it still doesn't explain why they would. They're already threatened with war on two fronts. Why should they seek to start another? They would have nothing to gain, and everything to lose. Who in their right mind would want war?"

She shook her head and Anchev scoffed.

"You think no sane man wants war? Then you are naive indeed. An Amnish victory would rally the people around whoever was perceived to have brought it. The Council's flaccidness would be revealed to all, and a change would swiftly come. The Amnish clearly do not fear defeat, and with the iron plague already softening this coast they would think a victory would be quick."

"All you say might be true, but there still must be something which drives the public to demand conflict," Xan said. "The machinations of a few individuals would not be enough. Rumour suggests that raiders claiming to be Amnish soldiers have recently attacked settlements along the coast. Did they hope to goad Baldur's Gate into striking the first blow?"

"Quite possibly," Sarevok agreed. "And if what you say is true, then they have already put their plans into motion. You know the Dukes have garrisoned the town of Beregost. Why else draw so much of their force to the south, except to face off against Amn?"

"Which leads to another problem entirely," the elf remarked. "Perhaps these men have manipulated your father, but your father is not a Duke. Why should the leaders of this city be so eager to have their lands conquered?"

"I doubt they are. But clearly someone in this city also has an interest in this scheme, and it must be someone of great power," Anchev concluded.

"Duke Eltan?" Anna asked hesitantly.

"Perhaps. He is the hand behind the Flaming Fist, and by all accounts he has been behaving strangely of late."

Finn groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"This doesn't make any bloody sense. None of it."

"It is indeed a mess of tangled lines," Sarevok replied. "And I have been as lost as you in all this. I have allies, but who would heed my words? I am either a pawn to my father or his enemy, and would receive little trust in this matter. But something needs to be done and done soon, before we find ourselves irrevocably at war."

"But why should you care if war came to pass?" Xan suddenly said. "You are a stranger here. You could flee in the night with your fortune and leave all of this behind you. Your father would certainly perish from his madness, and you would be free. You have no interest here."

Anchev scowled. "I am flattered that you think so little of me as to believe I would not care whether this coast were laid low by war. What kind of monster do you think I am? You are wrong—this coast is my home. I felt bound to this place from the moment I set foot here. I have no desire to return to Sembia. I finished with that land of rogues when I left it. I am as much a part of this as any here."

The elf glanced down but Anna could see a strange look on his face. Finn sighed.

"Well, I don't know if your tales have any truth in them or not. But even if they did, what do you expect us to do about it? I'm in the Flaming Fist now, I can't just go sneaking through windows and knocking people on the head. Not that I'd have done that for you before, either," he added.

"I do not expect bloodshed, though it may come to that regardless," Sarevok said. "But you could help me expose my father. He has arranged a meeting with some foreign trading partners—but I strongly suspect they are in fact agents of Amn. They shall be in the city within the tenday. If we could prove this fact it would be all the evidence we need that Rieltar is a traitor."

"How?" Finn said again. "I doubt they'll just come clean. And I don't much fancy spilling blood on your command."

A slight smile crept out of Sarevok's mouth.

"So you say. But they will be nervous. And my father could snap at the slightest provocation, as you have seen. Together we could force the truth from them."

"And then the slaughter would begin," Xan said coolly.

"You have a remarkable sword at your belt," Sarevok said. "I trust it is not exclusively for decoration. The time for peaceful resolution has passed. We must be bold, and face the consequences."

Xan frowned and subtly pulled his cloak around his blade, hiding it from the man's view. By his face he seemed almost offended at its mention. Somewhere through the window came the sounds of temple bells resonating in the night. Finn seemed deep in thought, but he jerked at the sound.

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't like any of this, mate. And I'm not going to decide anything tonight."

"Fair enough," Sarevok replied. "It has reached the witching hour. Decide, but I beg you again not to leave this hanging in the wind. You did so last time, and you see how things progressed. Do so again and I fear it will be too late for us all."

"Yeah, well, that's the trouble with hanging your hopes on a bunch of adventurers," Finn said, giving him a look. "You shouldn't sit back like a maiden in distress, waiting for someone to come to your rescue. But we'll let you know."

...

Sarevok's face went hard at the jest, and Anna found herself forced to look away from his eyes. When he chose Sarevok Anchev could clearly look as cold as his father. They gave him their leave and his stern guards showed them to a side entrance of the compound. The three of them walked through the darkened streets together, and Finn let out a groan.

"How in the bloody hells do we always get mixed up in these things?" he asked, but none had an answer.

"Anchev may have been telling the truth. There is a ring of it in his words, even if the man himself is like a snake," Xan remarked.

"He makes my gut turn cold, all right," Finn agreed.

Anna glanced at the men; though she had little fondness for Anchev herself, she wondered why they should seem so vehement in their dislike of him. She could see why Xan would distrust him, but in Finn's case it seemed almost an instinctive reaction.

"I'm surprised you didn't just do your work on him," Finn said to Xan. "If there ever was a need for an enchanter I think we just had it."

"I am growing tempted," the elf replied. "But one must take care. If he was warded or the enchantment failed I would have a serious difficulty on my hands. Besides, dominating a mind, even one such as his, is not something to be done lightly."

"You used your abilities to get into the ball," Anna remarked.

"True, but a short bluff for a simple end is not quite the same as breaking into an unwilling mind."

"That's just splitting hairs," Finn replied. "You dominated the guards without thinking twice, you could do it for a better cause now."

"Hardly that. I merely waved my invitation in front of their eyes," Xan said.

He withdrew a white handkerchief from somewhere within his robes and rubbed his nose. In spite of everything Anna chuckled silently to herself.

"But what are we going to do?" Finn said. "We don't know if this bastard's just trying to use us to get his father out of the way, or something else. We don't know what's going on."

"What about Henerick Jhasso?" Anna suggested.

"What about him? His son says he's practically a vegetable."

"Yes, but his being charmed is one of the first things that led us into this. If he could give us any answers, any at all..."

"I take it you will be requiring my assistance, then?" Xan said dryly. "You may be correct—the solving of one problem may shed light on another. But even so...we suspected Rieltar's hand in his affliction before, and I see no reason for that to have changed. He corrupted the man to take his business, that seems plain as day. And there are no guarantees I could even pull the slightest bit of coherent information from him."

"But you could try," Anna said. "You saw how hard up Edmund was—he was desperate for any help. I'm sure he'd be willing to at least let us see him."

"It's not a bad plan," Finn admitted. "And the gods know we don't have much else to go on right now. In all honesty—my captain's at a loss as well. Things are worse up here than even Vai thought. They're all chasing shadows. This could be something, at least."

"Will you tell him of our meeting tonight?" Xan asked.

"Don't have much choice. But I think he'd be glad for the help. As long as we keep our noses clean there shouldn't be a problem."

The elf sighed, long and tired into the night.

"Very well. You are correct at least in that we could do little worse. If the Jhasso family approves I will do what I can. Let me know if you make any arrangements, but I shall bid you good night for now."

Xan bowed and retreated into the dark streets. Anna and Finn stood watching in silence, long after his cloak had vanished from view. At last Finn spoke.

"Come on, love. Let's get back home."

Anna leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm tightly around her as they made their way to the house.

...

The next morning Anna invested in some good writing parchment and sealing wax. She penned a rather innocuous note to Edmund Jhasso, saying how pleased she was to see him again, and invited him to call on her at his leisure. She made no mention of his father; an odd niggling feeling told her to err on the side of caution.

She left the note once more in the care of their neighbour lad. He took the coins with a raised eyebrow but no comment; Anna gathered that she and Finn had already developed something of a reputation for having strange company about. Fortunately though the house seemed to keep its gossip to itself.

The clouds broke leaving a mellow Marpenoth day but Anna stayed close to the house. She told herself it was to wait on any reply from Jhasso, but she couldn't deny a growing sense of fear. People in that city knew them—nameless faces with untold intentions. Anna spent much of the day at the window, staring out over the city wall, deep in thought.

She jumped at the sound of heavy footfalls on the stairs. Anna recognised the step though and went to unbolt the door.

"Hey, love," Finn said. "Any word yet?"

"No, not yet," she replied, giving him a quick kiss. "What about you?"

"The captain seems to think it's all right, though he's not too positive on our chances of finding anything. What's to eat? I'm half-starved tonight."

He glanced at the empty table with a rather forlorn expression.

"I'm sorry—I completely forgot," Anna said absently. "I'll whip something up now."

She hurried over to prod the fire but Finn spoke.

"No worries. Give us the pot there, and I'll pop over to the Lion and see what sort of horse meat they've got cooking tonight."

"I think I saw a donkey round back the last time I went past," Anna replied, laughing at the look he gave her.

Finn pulled off his uniform and took the cookpot down to the tavern, whistling away down the stairs. Anna began setting the crockery on the table but paused hearing a light rap on the door.

She opened it to see a smart-liveried boy standing in the hall. He gave her a note then departed with a bow. Anna shut the door and tore open the sealing wax, surprised to see an elegant handwriting that was clearly not Edmund Jhasso's.

_"Dear Mistress Whitehaven,_

_I thank you for your kind letter, which I will answer on my son's behalf. I regret to inform you that Edmund is not in a condition to make calls or receive visitors. He has been of exceedingly poor health of late, as I am certain you will have noticed. Both his father and I feel it is in his best interest for him to refrain from social activity until he is stronger. I am certain you will understand this, and the nature of our concerns. I shall keep your note safe and will pass it on to Edmund if his condition improves._

_Regards,_

_Lavinia Jhasso"_

"What the hells is this?" Finn muttered when he returned. "Not even a word that she remembers who we are."

"It does almost seem like a letter from a stranger," Anna remarked. "Although she might not be fond of us after everything that happened."

"We only did what she asked. But Edmund said she was acting odd as well—you don't think?"

"I don't know _what _to think anymore," she sighed. "But if Mistress Jhasso is blocking us, what can we do? Hide outside his window and throw pebbles at the glass?"

"I don't know," Finn groaned, and slapped the letter down on the table. "Let's think about it on a full stomach, eh?"

Anna agreed and sat down to the rather gristly stew. As she ate though another idea came to her.

"The party—Lady Silvershield said she was friends with Edmund and his sister. I wouldn't say we were formally introduced, but we've met. Maybe she could get a note to them somehow."

Finn looked up. "Maybe, but we're not exactly her mates, are we? How are you going to ask her to get involved in all this?"

"All she'd need to do was pass on a message, I can't think she'd be in danger," she replied. "I'd be able to see her if I called, I'm sure—Lady Anna Delainis, of...Cormyr. That title is likely to get her attention."

Finn chuckled through his mouthful of stew.

"I think you've been at this too long, love—you're getting devious."

Her cheeks turned pink. "There's nothing _devious _about an afternoon social call. Besides, I wouldn't be lying. But I'd need to get a new dress to go calling on the Silvershields."

Finn laughed again. "Oh, aye! Now the truth comes out. But why not wear those rags Anchev had sent over? You couldn't get much fancier than that."

"That's an evening dress," she replied in a despairing tone. "And I certainly couldn't wear one I just had on the night before. Don't you know anything about ladies' fashion?"

"Just how to get it off," he said, giving her a grin.

Anna grimaced, and tossed a bit of bread in his direction in a most unladylike way.

...

In the morning she sent off a note to the Silvershield estate, announcing her intention to call that afternoon. She used a tavern boy to deliver the message this time, fearing her neighbour's questioning eye. In truth she was much more nervous about the plan than she let on to Finn. Calling around uninvited to such a prestigious family was on the borderline of acceptability, no matter how fine a title she gave herself. And there was little to guarantee that Skie would even be at home, or appear to be at home. But she set off towards the dressmaker's with determination—after all, what did they have to lose?

Anna spent more than she intended but the result was worth it. She bought a dark blue dress of thin velvet, with an underdress of embroidered sky-blue silk. The dressmaker altered it for her on request making it look for all the world as though it had been tailored. She bought a matching cap and gloves, and a fine pair of satin shoes which she admitted were little more than an indulgence. A mantle of blue wool trimmed in fur completed the ensemble and she was thankful that Finn wouldn't need to see the bill.

She returned to the house for a quick bath, then set out nervously on her mission. Anna even hired a carriage for the purpose—Lady Delainis of Cormyr didn't seem like the sort to arrive on foot. She watched the cobbled streets slip by through the window as the carriage bobbed along. The buildings grew more grand and imposing as the horses climbed the hill, and soon they came to a stop outside a large house.

It was timber-framed, but the similarities between the Silvershield estate and her own accommodation ended firmly there. A high wall surrounded the property, and through the iron gates Anna caught a glimpse of elaborate knotwork hedges. Her heart pounded as her driver spoke to the guard, but to her joy he opened the gates and let the carriage pass through.

The driver pulled up to the doors and a footman helped her dismount. A stiff-looking manservant stepped through the carved wooden portal at the carriage's approach.

"Lady Anna Delainis," the footman announced.

The servant bowed low to her. "Of course. Good afternoon, my lady. Welcome to Silvershield Hall. Lady Skie is awaiting you in the drawing room."

He graciously if not somewhat disinterestedly showed Anna into the estate. The walls were all heavy with carved dark wood which gave the building an even more imposing air. Portraits of generations of Silvershields looked down on her from their frames, registering their disapproval at her presence.

...

The servant led her into a large parlour. It too was decorated in the sombre wood, but light from the tall windows improved the atmosphere somewhat. Lady Silvershield stood by the fireplace and turned quickly when the servant entered.

"That will do, Melar," she said after he introduced Anna. "No need to bring refreshments—Berta has already brought wine."

Anna smiled at the young woman, but noted with surprise that she seemed to possess a nervous kind of animation. She ruffled her rather girlish-looking dress absently and she seemed anxious for the servant to depart. As soon as the door shut she dashed forward and grabbed Anna pleadingly by the hands.

"Oh, I have just been in an absolute _state _since I read your note. I've been so sick with worry I couldn't eat a thing at lunch. Aunt Deona thinks I'm coming down with the vapours—I'm surprised she hasn't confined me to my room. I thought you seemed like such an understanding lady at the party, I can't think you'd do anything so horrible. _Oh_, please, I throw myself at your mercy!"

Lady Silvershield collapsed down onto her knees, still clinging to Anna's hands. Her brown eyes were wide and she looked the very picture of some distressed maiden from a storybook. Anna stared at her in shock.

"What—what are you talking about?" she gasped, utterly forgetting the polite introductory speech she'd memorised.

"Oh, I knew it at once!" Skie wailed. "You've come to tell Papa that I was at that horrid Iron Throne bash the other night. Why else would you be here? And I cannot imagine anything so cruel. Have you no sense of feminine solidarity? He will just _kill _me, that's all. I'll never be allowed out again. And how will Eldoth and I meet then? Have you given no thought to love? At least consider _love, _O my tormentor!"

She managed to wrench her hands free and stepped back from the woman. Had she gone mad? Her dramatic countenance seemed to suggest it, and Anna wasn't sure if she should laugh, give the girl a comforting embrace, or deliver a hard slap.

"Lady Silvershield—I assure you I am here for no such thing," she managed, thankfully avoiding the urge to strike some sense into her. "But I did wish to speak with you about the party."

"You aren't? Oh, you are?" Skie said. She rose quickly from the carpet and her dramatic look faded. "Haven't I just made a silly goose of myself, then? I am so _sorry_. And to think I chided poor Edmund for his performance! But I tried to think of why in the heavens you would call, and that horrible thought got stuck in my head. Once such things get in there it's impossible to get them out. I have a very active mind, you know."

"I can see," Anna said blankly.

The woman now seemed entirely relaxed, but she herself was thoroughly frazzled. Skie smiled radiantly and smoothed her youthful dress, directing Anna to a chair. She thankfully took the wine Lady Silvershield offered, resisting the temptation to swallow it all.

"Your father is...somewhat strict, I gather?" Anna asked, reaching for something to say.

Skie shook her dark curls in despair, sending her heavy earrings swinging from her lobes like pendulums. They seemed at odds with the rest of her ensemble, looking more like something a gypsy woman would wear than the young daughter of a Duke.

"It is the bane of my life," she said emphatically. "Oh, I don't mean any disrespect to Papa—none at all. He is a lovely father, really. But he has never understood how I need my independence. He doesn't much approve of the scene I am involved in. He's never understood _art. _Do you appreciate art, Lady Delainis?"

"Yes, I suppose I do," Anna said thoughtfully, taking another sip of wine. "Although I don't know much about it. I am involved in the Arcane Art myself."

Skie's eyes widened. "Oh, are you a wizardess? How delightful! Father never would let me train in the arcane secrets—he thought it too dangerous. I focused on dance and music instead, as a proper lady should. I adore anything to do with art—poetry, song, dance—and _art_, of course," she added.

Anna forced down a smile. "That is how you met Eldoth, I gather?"

"Yes, but you must never, _never _mention him to Papa," she said seriously. "I made the mistake of introducing them at a little party we had here—when Father learned he was my lover he had poor Eldoth thrown out onto the street! Papa despises bards—he thinks them all criminals and ne'er-do-wells. It breaks my heart how prejudiced he is, but it is a burden Eldoth and I must bear."

The flighty woman seemed so genuinely sincere that Anna couldn't help but give her a smile.

"Don't worry. I won't breathe a word of it to anyone."

"Oh, thank you," Skie replied, a smile lightening her face. "I was right about you all along. I should have known to trust my instincts—they never fail me. I am an excellent judge of character. All my friends say so."

Her words suddenly reminded Anna of her mission, and she cleared her throat and spoke.

"Actually, I'm here on behalf of a mutual friend—Edmund Jhasso."

Skie looked interested. "Oh? Is he well? I've not heard from him nor Celia."

"That is the problem," Anna said slowly. "But I must ask to take you into strictest confidence."

Lady Silvershield looked even more interested, and she leaned forward in her chair.

"Of course. I am entirely trustworthy, and I swear to you by all the gods not a word shall leave my lips. What is the matter?"

"You know how ill his father is," Anna began. "We have a friend who might be able to help him. You met him at the party—the elven gentleman. Edmund himself begged us for aid. But when I tried to contact Edmund I received a note from his mother, saying that Edmund was ill and could have no callers for the foreseeable future. We must get to speak with him somehow."

Skie leaned back in her chair. "Yes, I know all about Master Jhasso—a dreadful thing. I almost thought he was cursed. How funny too that his mother wouldn't let you see him. Edmund is a man, though he doesn't act like it. His father emancipated him last summer. How very odd indeed. But what would you have me do? I could sneak into the estate if you like...I am somewhat skilled in that area. A result of being friendly with _artistic _types."

She looked at Anna apologetically, though her eyes sparkled at the mention. Anna's eyebrow raised but she shook her head.

"No, nothing so risky. But you said you were friends with Edmund and Celia. Their mother would have no cause to bar you from the place—if you could get to either of them and pass on a note, we would be immensely grateful."

Skie almost seemed disappointed, and she bit on her lip.

"If you wish. I suppose it is a more practical plan of action. Although the Jhassos' guards know me—I could always claim to have lost something if I were caught. I had a dress fitting planned this afternoon, but this seems far more interesting. Would you like me to go today?"

"Well, yes, if it wouldn't inconvenience you," Anna said, surprised at how quickly the young woman acquiesced. "I have a letter with me, in fact."

"Marvellous," Skie smiled, taking the note. "I do love intrigue, don't you? Like that moment in a play when you just _know _something is about to befall the heroine, but you can't be certain of what."

Anna looked at her—something about the young woman did seem like an actress in a play, and she suddenly worried that she might take her espionage role too much to heart.

"But you should know, this could be dangerous," Anna said seriously. "We have no idea what might be happening at the Jhasso's. It would be wisest to keep your visit as short as possible."

Lady Silvershield laughed, brushing away the warning with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, come! I can't imagine anyone more boring than the Jhassos. I'm sure his mother is just being over-protective. And poor Edmund has been a complete drunkard lately, she'd be well advised to make him take some bed rest. Besides, if anything were to befall me Papa would have the entire city guard out at arms. No one would dare touch a hair on my head. I'll bring you your answer before you know it."

She reached over and patted Anna's hand in a friendly way. Anna smiled back, though she was having heavy doubts about involving the young Lady Silvershield in their plan. At first she'd been worried that she would simply brush her aside, but now her concerns were exactly the opposite.

...

Skie began to talk about the autumn season at the local playhouses, but before Anna could betray her ignorance the chamber door opened. A tall, elegant matron entered and Skie rose to her feet.

"Good afternoon, Aunt Deona," she said, curtseying to the woman.

"Good afternoon, Skie," she replied gravely. "And who is your company? I did not recall seeing any cards this morning."

"This is Lady Anna Delainis," Skie said, and Anna rose to her feet. "Silly me—I must have taken her card when I went to attend to my correspondence, and forgot to replace it."

"Your memory grows worse with each passing day, child," the woman remarked. "You must forgive my niece, Lady Delainis—I was reading in the library and had no idea we had company. I hope she has not worn your ear off with her constant chattering about that absurd theatre?"

Anna's mouth opened but Skie jumped in.

"Actually, Lady Delainis is a patroness of the theatre. She has come here to discuss a fundraiser they are having. She hopes that we would be able to donate much-needed coin in aid of the arts."

Anna blinked at Skie, but the young woman didn't bat an eye. Her aunt looked vaguely embarrassed.

_"Ah_, yes. Forgive me, Lady Delainis. Of course the Duke appreciates the _value _of the arts in this city. I am certain we would be willing to donate a fair amount to your cause."

"Thank you, madam," Anna managed, feeling her cheeks turning bright pink.

"Quite," the woman replied. "But tell me—I do not recall hearing your name socially before now. Are you new to the city?"

"Yes, my lady," Anna stammered, suddenly feeling like a blatant fraud. "I have just recently arrived here from—Beregost."

Somehow her Cormyrian ancestry refused to come out. Fortunately however the woman did not seem interested in the gentry of that country town.

"Of course," she sniffed. "I do hope to see you on the circuit. But Skie, my dear, I believe you have duties of your own to attend, do you not?"

"Yes, of course, Aunt Deona," she replied. "I will just escort Lady Delainis to her carriage."

She ushered Anna out of the room, thankfully away from the woman's searching gaze. Once safely in the hall Skie squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear.

"Thanks for that—you are a _star_. There's an old theatre Eldoth and I are trying to get fixed up but Papa won't have a thing to do with it. But I think I just made Auntie embarrassed enough to make a donation! I'll get round to Celia's as soon as I can, then I'll send a note your way. Isn't this exciting? Ta ta, darling!"

Lady Silvershield bundled Anna into her carriage and waved her off like an old friend. Anna leaned back on the leather seat with a groan, feeling like she'd just been sent tumbling down a hillside.


	76. Reel Around the Fountain

Anna returned home and laid her new finery with the rich velvet gown, hanging them together over a chair back as they had no wardrobe. She laughed to herself as she peeled the turnips for supper—any burglar might well think their chamber was the clandestine room of a great lady. She tossed a handful of oats into the pot along with the vegetables, thinking that this lady would need to choose another haunt if she desired to keep her business private.

She rose up to answer the short knock at the door, and by the sounds of a child on the other side she guessed who it was. Ella stood there, baby as usual on her hip.

"Oh, hiya," she began in her friendly way. "I heard you come in. Mick's just finished brewing up a pot of ale—it's his off day—and we wanted to know if you and Finn fancied coming around later for a drink. He's missed his calling in life, has my Mick—he should've been a brewer. His ales are proper good."

Anna gave her a smile. "We'd love to, but I think I might be too tired tonight. It's been a bit of a mad day."

She rubbed her forehead and Ella's eyebrow raised.

"Oh, aye? You have been doing a lot of coming and going. Una's lad says you two were dressed up to the nines the other night, like a Duke and Duchess themselves. Mick's been in the Fist for nigh on seven summers now and we never get invited to the fancy parties," she remarked.

Anna turned a bit red but she nodded graciously.

"We would like to come around though—maybe another night?"

"Sure thing," Ella said, smiling. "You know where we are. Come along, little man—let's see if your papa hasn't finished off the pot yet."

She shifted the baby to her other hip and departed down the stairs. Anna said farewell and shut the door with a twinge of guilt. Mick was a loud-voiced but cheerful fellow, always handy with a joke, and Ella had infinite patience for her constant borrowing. She'd much rather have spent an evening with them, but such was the nature of her life now.

Although she hadn't told a lie about being too tired—a dull headache had been on the increase all day and she rubbed her temples in a vain attempt to smooth it away. A drink of willow bark tincture would help though it seemed increasingly unable to deal with her pains. Finn could provide a surer relief but she didn't like to call on his strange powers any more than absolutely necessary.

...

Another empty afternoon passed into evening. Finn was late and Anna paced the floor in worry. Where was he? She went to the window and looked out over the darkening city, with the many lamps beginning to shine like yellow stars. She grew more nervous, but at last she heard the thankful sound of his boots on the stairs. He dragged himself into the room, tired and tense-faced.

"They had me riding out of the city today," he said, throwing his cloak on the bed. "Some trouble with the marsh people. The Dukes are trying to force them into paying tax, but since they don't live on land they say they don't owe the city a copper. Looks like it could be a mess. Fortunately though they let me ride back to town."

"Do you think you'll have to go back?" Anna asked.

"Don't know," Finn shrugged. "I go where they tell me. Hopefully it'll all amount to nothing. I don't much fancy having to fight a bunch of fishermen."

Anna sighed and served up the pottage. The 'marsh people' as they were known were a group of wandering fisher-families who lived out their lives on narrow rafts built of logs and reeds. They plied the swampy land downriver, catching fish and crabs and harvesting peat in the treacherous bogs. The boaters were peaceful in the main, but stubborn and quick to take offence when riled. She hoped the dispute wouldn't come to violence, but much of that emotion had long gone.

"The Dukes just seem keen to squeeze every last coin out of everyone these days," Finn continued. "Some fellows were telling me they've never bothered trying to get tax from them before—the trade they bring to the city makes up for it. Be like trying to tax gypsies anyway. It doesn't seem like a good sign to me."

"No," Anna said quietly.

"But how did your thing go? Did you get to see Lady Silvershield?"

"I did, in fact, and she offered to help us. She seemed quite keen, really."

Finn chuckled. "Not surprised. Skie seemed pretty keen all around."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What? Oh, nothing. But some of the things she said you'd never guess she was the daughter of a Duke."

Finn laughed again, shaking his head in amusement. Anna pursed her lips and stabbed her bread into the pottage. After they ate she washed the crocks while Finn set to work on another game of cards. She wiped them and set them back into the cupboard, before leaning out the window to hurl the dirty water into the garden below.

Anna hung up the tub and settled down to her mending. The room was quiet but for the faint rustle of Finn's cards and the snapping of the fire. Through the floor came the low murmur of voices, and outside Anna heard a cart rattle past. The silence of it grated at her; it wasn't the peaceful silence of the country—this silence was watchful, waiting. It wasn't a silence that could last. At last she could take it no more and slapped the tunic down onto the table. Finn looked up from his game, startled.

"All right?"

"No," she replied. "I hate having to hide in this room. I hate never knowing who's going to come up those stairs. I hate it. I...I want to go home."

She suddenly felt her jaw wavering. Finn still looked surprised, but he reached over to her.

"I know. It gets to me, too. I hate having to leave, and spend all day wondering what might be happening to you. But you...could go home if you want. I said before—"

"No...no. Of course I'm not leaving," Anna said, feeling foolish at her outburst. "I'm just...so tired of all this. When we went back home I thought we could have a life—a life like married people are supposed to have. Like _anyone_ is supposed to have. But now...I don't think we ever will."

Finn sighed, long and deep. He rose up from the table and offered her his hand.

"Come on," he said. "Come lie down."

He gestured towards the bed, but Anna shook her head in irritation.

"That isn't what I want just now."

"That's all right. Just come and lie down, won't you?"

Anna let out a breath and they laid down together on the crackling mattress. Finn wrapped his arm around her, holding her close and breathing softly into her hair.

"This has got to end some day," he said. "It can't go on forever. Something will change."

"It doesn't feel that way," she replied.

Finn squeezed her again and was silent. Anna shut her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body next to her. For a moment she tried to imagine that they were in bed in Beregost, but that vision refused to hold. She opened her eyes and looked out over the dingy room, lit only by thin candlelight and the glow of the fire in the small grate. The shadows made it seem even more grim than in the daytime.

"Are you still taking the herbs?" Finn asked quietly.

"Yes," she sighed. "The last thing we would need in all of this is a child."

"I suppose so."

He caressed her arm, and Anna kept staring into the low fire.

"It does seem like a dream sometimes, doesn't it?" Finn said. "I keep expecting to wake up and find myself back in the bunkhouse in Candlekeep."

Anna smiled slightly into the darkness.

"It was spring, now it's autumn. What did you do in Candlekeep? Tell me about your day."

"Are you trying to fall asleep?" Finn said. "There's nothing much to tell."

"There must be something. Tell me something, anything," she replied.

More than anything she wanted to hear his voice, something to break that silence. Finn chuckled softly.

"I remember old Hull. One of the older guards—he'd been in the Watchers since they laid the foundations, I reckon. Still tried to put the ale away like a man half his age. Nice bloke. Kind of sad, though. He never mentioned anything about a family. The captain would've retired him long back but there didn't seem like anywhere for him to go. So he just keeps on patrolling the wall every day, and getting bladdered every night."

"More lost souls," Anna said quietly.

"He was the last one I talked to before I left," he continued. "I had the night watch but the captain arranged for him to relieve me. The captain was in on Gorion's plans, but poor old Hull just thought he was punishing him for forgetting his sidearm that morning. Hull couldn't half get out of bed at times, but he wasn't so far gone that he didn't know he was a lousy excuse for a guard. I know it hurt him. But I never let on what was really happening."

"I don't suppose you could."

"No," he sighed. "But I still remember his eyes. He tried to laugh it away, but they just seemed...old, and tired."

Anna shook her head on the pillow, trying to drive away the grim image of a man she'd never met.

"You must've had some better times there. Tell me about those."

"Yeah, there were. There was daft old Phlydia—one of the archivists in the library. She always used to help me when it came time to copy out my Tome of Knowledge."

"The what?" she asked.

"Followers of Oghma are meant to copy out a work of value once a year, and pass it on to the needy," Finn explained. "Took me ages, and I had to do it all by hand, no magic allowed. But good old Phlydia would always come up with the shortest tome she could for me."

"You had to copy out an entire book?"

"Start to finish," he said grimly. "I thought my hand would fall off. Though it was really my fault, I suppose—Gorion told me to work on it a little every day, but I couldn't be asked. I'd forget about it for months. Phlydia was always good at reminding me, though. The gods know where she dug these books out—_oh_, hells!"

Finn suddenly burst out in laughter, shaking the precarious bedframe.

"What?" Anna said, laughing as well.

He coughed. "Well, one year she must've reckoned I was getting about a certain age, and she set me to copying some old healer's manual. You know...one dealing in _reproduction."_

"Oh, no," she chuckled.

"She thought it would be informative," Finn said. "It was the driest thing you could imagine, but here I am, sitting in the old library and trying desperately to ignore the fact that my book's got drawings of naked ladies in it. I thought I'd burst into flames anytime someone walked past. I don't know how I survived—though my tome was finished in record time that year."

He burst out laughing again and Anna joined in.

"Who can say what forbidden secrets the library of Candlekeep holds?"

"Don't know, but my mattress held a well-hidden diagram for a long time afterwards!"

"Defacing a tome? Oh, you are awful."

"I was only expanding my knowledge," he replied, giving her a tickle. "What about you? Did you get handed any physician's texts?"

"Hardly," she snorted. "My aunt gave me a euphemistic talk and a firm statement that I should not let boys touch my feminine bounties, no matter how politely they asked."

She suddenly recalled the talk in full and burst out into hopeless laughter of her own.

"Really? Damn, there goes my plan out the window," Finn laughed back. "Dear madam—I humbly request that you allow me to lay my hands on your ample bosoms this evening, or at your nearest possible convenience."

_"Hmm..._Perhaps if you could put your request into writing?" she said, turning to face him. "I do have many other commitments, you know."

"First thing tomorrow, I swear it. Now, where's me pen?"

...

Anna burst into laughter again but it melted under his kisses. Finn usually drank in her flesh like a man parched from thirst, but that night he explored her body as if the experience was something new to him. Every part of her felt his kiss or a touch and it lifted her from the barren room. The tenderness of it flowed like a palpable thing as she watched his body moving in the firelight.

Afterwards they lay curled up together in the blankets. Anna rested on the damp heat of his chest, feeling light and satiated. That peace that she longed for filled her, and she wished they could stay in that blissful cocoon forever. Finn softly caressed her hair and she felt her eyes drifting shut.

Her dreamy pleasure came to a swift end. They both jerked at the sound of a light, sharp rap on the door—surely none of their neighbours would call that late. Finn rose swiftly from the bed, pulling one of the blankets around his bare waist. He snatched up his blade and called low for the knocker to identify himself.

Anna couldn't hear the reply but Finn unbolted the door. She could just make out cloaked figure in the hall, but before she had time to wonder a delicate voice came from under the hood.

"Oh, I say—I haven't come at a bad time, have I?"

The figure pulled down the hood, revealing herself as none other than Skie Silvershield. She stepped inside and glanced at Finn's makeshift attire with a laugh.

_"Ah, _no," he began, bolting the door behind her. "We were just in bed."

"That's good," Lady Silvershield replied. "I should never forgive myself if I interrupted a romantic moment. Oh, there's no need to be embarrassed—I always sleep in the nude. It is much healthier."

She made the revealing claim matter-of-factly and seated herself in a chair, turning her back on the pair to allow them to dress.

"We're just a bit...surprised to see you this late," Anna remarked, sliding into her shift. "We'd given up on hearing from you tonight."

"I conduct all my business after dark, darling!" Skie exclaimed cheerfully. "At least, the important business. Eldoth and I were absorbed at the theatre when I suddenly remembered you were waiting on my response. So I tore myself away and found my way to your little abode. It's quite—rustic here, isn't it? Not the finest part of town. Oh, are you _undercover?"_

"I am now," Finn muttered, lacing up his trousers. "But no, this is just where we live."

"Well, I think it's fascinating," Skie replied.

From any other mouth the statement would have seemed condescending, but Anna noticed the young woman seemed to have an innocence about her that moderated her inappropriate remarks. Lady Silvershield turned back around, a smile on her pretty face.

"But I'm sure you want to hear all about my day. I did get to see Celia, but it was quite the struggle. You were absolutely right—something foul is afoot! Mistress Jhasso acted as though she'd never even _seen _me before. It was almost rude, and so unlike her. But I persevered, using all the acting talent at my disposal, and eventually she called for Celia. I had a pretence about dresses or some such—and I managed to slip her your note when Mistress Jhasso wasn't looking. And lo! I received this reply."

She reached under her cloak and handed Finn a slip of paper. Anna leaned in and read over his shoulder.

_"Dearest Skie—I am so glad you have come! Edmund isn't ill at all, but Mother insists we stay in the house. I don't know what's wrong with her. We sorely need your friends' help, but if she catches wind of it the game will be up. Come by tomorrow night, after the tenth hour. Mother retires then. I'll arrange to have the back door open and the alley gate unlocked. Please come soon! —C"_

"I guess that's it then," Finn remarked. "You'd better tell Xan about this first thing. I hope he's still up for it."

"I will, but what about you?" Anna said. "This is almost—breaking and entering. If we were caught..."

"She said the door will be open, no worries," he sighed. "Besides, we've been invited. After a fashion, that is."

"Yes, I'm sure it will be fine," Skie reassured her. "Isn't this just exciting? One so rarely finds true drama. I can't wait!"

She clapped her hands and looked gleeful as a child awaiting her birthday.

"Hang on," Finn said. "We're glad of your help, but you shouldn't come. It could be dangerous."

"You and your wife are just nanny and nurse, aren't you?" Lady Silvershield laughed. "Don't worry about me—I've seen my share of the rough life in the docks. Besides, I know the Jhassos well. You might need me. But I really should be going—Eldoth is waiting, and he grows grumpy so very quickly. Artistic temperament, I'm afraid. I'll meet you back here tomorrow night!"

She rose and drew up her hood, but Finn held out a hand.

"Well, let me grab my cloak and I'll walk you back. It's pretty late."

"And separate you from your lady? What nonsense," Skie said, giving his bare arm a squeeze. "You are a delightful champion, but I shall be perfectly safe. Good night, dear ones, goodnight!"

She unbolted the door and slipped away into the night. Finn quietly shut it behind her.

"I don't think much of her getting messed up in this," he said. "Money on says she's worse than Imoen for getting into trouble."

"Well, she made her choice," Anna replied. "I trust she's adult enough to make her own decisions."

She tossed her head slightly, reminding herself that it was she who involved Lady Silvershield in the first place.

"Don't know if her father would agree," Finn said, pulling off his hastily-donned trousers. "She told me he wasn't going to emancipate her till she got married or turned thirty, whichever came first. The Duke's got her locked up tight, all right. We'd be in a place if he found out what she was up to."

Anna grimaced; she knew it was a man's right to retain control of his unmarried daughter's estate until she turned thirty summers old, but it was an old law and rarely invoked except as a threat to wayward offspring. It seemed though that Duke Silvershield had other ideas.

"Let's hope he doesn't," she said.

"Too right," he yawned. "But let's get to bed, eh? I've got to be up in a few bloody hours."

He collapsed down onto the mattress with a groan. Anna crawled in next to him, pulling the blankets up to her chin with a sigh. Finn rolled over and pulled her close, and she tried to fall asleep.

...

Sleep did come, and so firmly it took hold that she barely heard Finn depart at sunrise. Anna quickly drifted back into a world of strange dreams; she looked endlessly for something before realising she couldn't remember what it was she'd actually lost. Somehow she found herself on the street. A stranger was following her, but she couldn't see his face. She tried to hurry back to the house but every alley was blocked. Eventually she found her way and climbed the stairs, shutting the door behind her. The stranger was undeterred though and knocked hard on the door. Anna crouched in the corner, praying and hoping he would go away.

She lifted her head off the pillow with a start—someone _was _knocking on the door. Anna flew from bed and drew it open without even thinking to ask who it was.

Ajantis stood in the hall, his fist poised mid-knock. He looked at Anna standing tousled in her shift and his ears promptly turned red.

"Forgive me, my lady. I did not think—I have not woken you, have I?"

By the light in the hall it must have been nearly noon. Anna began to feel as embarrassed as the knight looked.

"No, no. It's alright. Please, come in."

She gestured for him to enter, but Ajantis paused on the threshold like a well-trained dog which was barred from the house. He stepped inside though, keeping his eyes firmly on the floor.

"Forgive me," he said. "I should...leave you to dress."

"That's alright," Anna replied quickly. "I'll just slip into my frock."

Thankfully her woad dress was still mostly fresh, and she worked her way into the sleeves and drew up the bodice. She ran her hands over her rough braids and turned to the knight with a smile.

"I don't normally lie in so late," she said by apology. "But Finn and I have been having some late nights recently."

"I see," Ajantis replied.

By his tone the knight read more into her statement than she meant, and her cheeks turned pink again. Ajantis' ready-colouring face was also tinged, though she noted it was clean shaven at least. He still looked thin but he seemed more presentable than before. For the first time she noticed what he held in his hands, and a smile broke out over her face.

"Have you brought those for me?" Anna asked, nodding her head at the bouquet of delicate pink roses.

"Yes," Ajantis said quickly, as though remembering himself. "I recalled how you said before that you were fond of them. I hope you find the colour pleasing."

"They're beautiful," she replied, drawing in their scent. "But where did you get roses in this season?"

Ajantis' ears flamed again. "There is a Temple of Sune in the city, and her priestesses use magics to keep them blooming all the year round."

Anna looked at him with a surprised laugh.

"You faced a temple of the Lady Firehair for these? You are brave indeed."

He looked keenly embarrassed by her remark, but seemed to pick up on the joke.

"A fair priestess armed with a lyre is not the most dangerous opponent I have faced—though perhaps not far off."

Anna laughed again. Thankfully the water bucket was still half-full and she set the roses in a pitcher. Their scent was strong and it easily perfumed the little room. Ajantis coughed slightly.

"The weather seems to have improved today. I thought perhaps to ask if you would care to go walking? The gardens in the northern quarter are still fair, even in this cold season."

"That sounds lovely," Anna replied. "And convenient—I need to speak with Xan, as it happens. He said he was lodging at the Golden Hind, do you know where that is?"

"Yes, I have been to his inn. But has something occurred?"

She drew a breath, and tried to explain the events of the past couple of days while she tidied her appearance. Ajantis stared at the floor, his face growing more grim as the tale progressed.

"I wish you had written to me," he said. "I would have prevented you from ever setting foot in that den of rogues."

"With respect, Sir Ajantis, that is why I sent the message to Xan," Anna sighed. "But he was no less pleased with the endeavour. Shall we go?"

Ajantis nodded and she drew her new mantle around her shoulders. She carefully locked the door behind them and they set off out into the streets. The knight offered her his arm, but they said little as they made their way into the more respectable northern side of town. Anna glanced up at him once or twice; his face was grim, and his blue eyes were worried.

...

He guided them down a quiet side street to the sign of the Golden Hind. It was timber-framed like most of the buildings in the city, sitting modestly like a proper matron amongst the houses. The diamond-shaped panels in the windows glittered where the afternoon sun struck them, and sent the stained-glass roses bursting into life. The windows on the lower floor were cracked open but no sound could be heard within.

Ajantis opened the door and they stepped into a tidy but deserted common room. A fire crackled lazily in the hearth, warming the empty chairs. An equally tidy woman stepped out from behind the bar at their approach; Ajantis made enquiries but the elf was not in. Anna borrowed a slip of paper and left Xan a brief note, which the landlady placed in a pigeon hole that already contained several letters.

"I hope he gets it in time, or all this will be for nothing," she said as they departed the inn.

"I am certain he will," Ajantis replied. "But regardless, I shall go with you this eve."

"But I don't know if—" Anna began.

"You may need a guard, and I for one could not rest wondering what might befall you," he said firmly. "This business leaves me strangely cold, my lady, and I am not sure why."

Anna didn't reply. She bit her lip, thinking of his words. So many answers that seemed so simple, yet held such depths, like a pool that seemed shallow but was not. Perhaps there was nothing wrong. Mistress Jhasso might only be afraid, feeling herself surrounded on all sides by enemies while her husband was plagued by some strange disease, and her business lay in ruins. Who could blame her for wishing to protect what was left of her family? These were nervous times.

A stiff breeze hit them and Anna drew her mantle closer. The sky was clear but the air was decidedly chilly that day, and above them the sun laboured with little success. Ajantis wore a heavy fur-lined cape that seemed fit for Icewind Dale but she shivered, wishing she hadn't ignored her woollen underclothes in her rush to dress.

They wandered past the mighty Hall of Wonders, that pillared temple of Gond which held so many strange artefacts. Anna felt a desire to go inside, if only to escape from the chill, but Ajantis directed them into the public gardens.

A guard nodded at their passage, discreetly eyeing their attire. Only the city's more fashionable residents were allowed within, keeping the garden safe from wandering tramps and other undesirables. The high walls thankfully moderated the breeze though making the garden seem warmer than the street outside.

Most of the blooms had passed but a few hardy spirits still clung on in flower. Green was the predominant colour; the box hedges and topiaries were perfectly trimmed into geometric shapes, rising up above the stone path like verdant spearheads. Arches of now-bare roses swept over the paths, their red hips punctuating the vines with colour. Pristine marble fountains chattered to themselves as winged devas emptied their endless stone flagons into the pools.

Beautiful though it was Anna found it too modern for her taste, with too much form over function—although with her herbalist's heart she could hardly think otherwise. Ajantis interrupted her thoughts.

"It is a pity you could not have had your wedding here in the city. I would have liked to attend. Although I suppose I cannot blame you for leaving."

"Yes...though I was glad to be married at home," Anna replied.

She glanced up at him, rather surprised to hear him say those words. Ajantis nodded.

"Of course it is the best place for a wedding, one's home."

"It was very small," she continued. "Finn had to leave...there was little time to plan a celebration."

Ajantis smiled.

"But the two of you were there. That is all you truly need—except for the priest, of course."

Anna laughed. "You are right. And it was a nice wedding. I do wish more of my friends could have been there, though."

"I was there in spirit," the knight said kindly.

They walked on in silence, but Anna soon spoke.

"In truth, I did not think you approved of the match," she said quietly.

Ajantis drew a deep breath. "I do not regret my words, but they were only half-said. If you love Finn then there must be a reason. You have eyes to see what I cannot. Regardless, I never wished you anything but well. To do otherwise would lack decency."

"I never did tell him...about what happened."

The knight stiffened, but he kept walking.

"It should not matter if you did. I would accept the consequences of my actions, and I have nothing to hide. I only kept the truth of it at your command."

His words were tense as his arm, and Anna looked up at him.

"Ajantis—why did you kiss me? I still do not understand."

His brow creased. "I...it was a moment of madness, and little more. I should ask your pardon again."

"You are not a man prone to madness, I should think," she replied.

He laughed slightly. "Oh, but you would be wrong, my lady. If you could see inside my mind—but no. You were correct in the first. It happened, but it is over. We should not dwell on our errors, but rather see that they do not happen again."

"Why, were you thinking of kissing me again?"

_"No," _he said firmly, though his surprised expression faded seeing the touch of humour in her eyes. "I shall leave that duty to your husband, my lady."

Anna chuckled quietly. She never resented Ajantis for his actions, though hardly a day went by when she didn't wonder about them.

"It's just as well. You will have your own duty soon," she remarked.

"Yes," he said slowly "And I shall do my best to love her, to show her the tenderness of a man's affection that a good wife deserves. I do believe she will be a good wife. Lady Jacinda has written to me, and by her letter she seems gentle and obedient."

"Is that what you prize in a wife? Obedience?" Anna asked.

She spoke with a rather hard tone, and the knight looked at her.

"I believe that the man should be master of his family, but I am no tyrant. She seems a decent soul, and though she is young I am certain she will manage our household without my constant instruction."

"You do not intend to stay at home then, I gather."

Ajantis sighed. "No. I...have my duty, and that I must attend. Lady Jacinda seems to understand that."

"But do you not think your first duty should be to her?" Anna said. "A young bride, alone in a strange city...perhaps even with child. She will need you by her side."

"She will not be alone," he said quickly. "My mother lives in our villa, and she shall be as her mother. My sisters will also be near. Jacinda shall have family."

"But not _her _family," she remarked. "They will be bound by marriage, but your family will be as strangers to her for some time. It is you she will need."

A pained look passed over the knight's eyes.

"You are correct. But...there is little else I can do."

Anna glanced at him. Strangely she felt herself growing angry, defensive of a woman she had never met.

"Sir Ajantis, I beg of you—do not leave your wife. I...I know how that feels. The fear, the emptiness...you have served the Order faithfully for many years—is that not enough? Surely there are ways for you to continue that would not take you away from your bride. You could be a priest, perhaps, or..."

"No," he interrupted. "No. That cannot be."

He spoke almost desperately, and Anna looked at him in surprise.

"Is Helm truly so harsh as that?"

Ajantis gave her a look of his own. "Duty is harsh, my lady. But I have never once doubted the wisdom of Helm."

"Forgive me," she said. "I did not mean that you should. But...I wonder if you are interpreting his tenets in a way that suits you. You fear this marriage. I understand that...but couldn't you give it a chance? Perhaps a genuine love will grow between you. Give it time."

...

Ajantis drew a sharp breath. They paused beside a fountain; a sudden sharp breeze caught the mist and blew it over them like spray from the sea. Anna was startled to see his eyes were turning red. Without thinking she grasped at his hand. He started at the touch, but quickly clasped hers in his strong fist.

"You are wise," he said slowly. "Yes. I have but...to try."

They fell silent. Ajantis held her hand so tightly that it hurt, but Anna made no move to free herself. At last she spoke.

"Why do you fear this so? Please, tell me the truth. As a friend."

She turned and looked into his moist eyes, dampened not from the fountain's spray. Ajantis looked down.

"I am a coward, am I not? A poor excuse for a man. I would throw myself into battle without a second thought, trusting only on the will of Helm for my fate. And yet...somewhere there is a delicate lady who terrifies me beyond all comprehension. It is so foolish I cannot express."

"But _why?" _she asked again. "You seem almost...Ajantis, I have my own confession. You may think me vain, but I once thought that you loved me."

Her cheeks grew red, but a smile washed over the knight's tired face.

"And I do. You are a fine lady...and a friend. I have never called a lady friend before, but you have come to mean as much to me as my comrades in the Order."

"Then I am honoured," she replied, smiling through her own embarrassment. "But, I..."

"But you thought my heart belonged to another," Ajantis said slowly. "Yes...you were correct."

Although she had long suspected it, the revelation still took her by surprise.

"But who? Not—Imoen?"

He laughed. "No—forgive me. I mean that young woman no disrespect. She is good, and worthy in her own way. No, Lady Anna."

He spoke strangely, breaking off his own train of thought. She released herself from his grasp, rubbing her sore fingers lightly.

"Is she also bound to another?" she asked. "Your beloved."

The knight started, but he answered quietly.

"Bound, yes. Bound much like me."

"And has she gone through with the marriage?"

"No...no, there was no union. The day had not come to pass."

Ajantis rubbed his folded hands over his forehead. It seemed his eyes were growing thick again.

"She is determined as you, then."

"Yes. My...love had said there was no point in struggling with duty. We do what we must in this life, but that need not destroy our own bond. We would always have that."

Anna though felt disturbed at the implication.

"You surely do not mean..."

"No!" he answered quickly. "I would have no infidelity. But it could not truly be called—Helm, what am I saying? I am a fool and a madman. There is nothing. Nothing."

"I don't understand," she replied.

"Then count yourself fortunate. No. Forgive me, but I do not wish to speak of this anymore. It is meaningless."

"Clearly it is not...speak. I will listen."

"But there is nothing to say. It is over. Love will never return."

"But, perhaps..." Anna began.

"Do you not hear me?" Ajantis suddenly turned to her. "My love is _dead!_ Gone from this world—and there is nothing else, no man or woman left in this life that I value. I have been such a fool. What does marriage mean to me? Let them have my loins—my heart is dust. I am only an automaton now, fighting on blindly for justice. What does it matter? It is gone...gone. There is _nothing."_

The knight visibly shook, tears now running openly down his cheeks. Anna stared at him in shock; if he'd actually struck her she would feel less stunned.

"And you—with your endless prodding questions. The Lady Governor," he spat. "Shall I reveal to you my pain? Of stolen kisses, taken where no eyes could see? Promises that meant nothing? A hopeless, broken love. Two fools—that is all. And it is over now. One goes to the grace of Helm, and I—I am still here. Left to carry on with a dead heart, to spend the rest of my days in emptiness."

Anna still stared at him, her mouth hanging open like an idiot's. The knight looked at her, his eyes wild, a horrible expression on his face. Suddenly her own eyes washed over.

"Forgive me...I did not mean..."

She lifted up her skirts and ran past him, her vision hot with blinding tears. She heard Ajantis calling her name but she paid no heed, running through the cold air until she felt her heart would burst.


	77. Ties that Bind

Anna hurried up the stairs of the house. Her dress was damp with cold sweat and her brow was on fire. She drowned her thirst with the brownish well water before she could think, though at that moment she didn't truly care if she fell deathly ill. She threw herself onto the bed and her body shook from pain and exertion.

She lay there for a long time. Slowly her breath came back, but the sick feeling in her stomach refused to leave. Ajantis' beloved was dead? He had tried so hard to hide her existence. The pain he must have felt—to be kept from his lover by his land's strict conventions, only to lose her to death. And she reminded him of it, beating the truth from him like a torturer.

Eventually she forced herself from the bed and changed into her work dress; the day could not stop simply because she had made a fool of herself yet again. She dipped into the vegetable basket and began peeling turnips and carrots for yet another pottage. She'd meant to buy a pig's knuckle or some other joint for the pot but food had been the last thing on her mind that day. Finn wouldn't be pleased, but he would just have to suffer.

When he came home though he didn't seem to notice and downed the food mechanically.

"Did you get to see Xan?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"I left him a note," Anna replied.

Finn made no remark on his day and she didn't ask. She washed the crocks in the small tub, scrubbing off the bits of food with a rag. Finn didn't sit down to his cards as usual, instead pacing the floor before finally sitting down to clean his weapons. Anna swept the floor then changed back into her woad dress; sweaty though it was, it would seem more presentable than her work frock.

She kept her ears open for the temple bells. Across the rooftops she heard them counting eight times, then nine. Finn slipped into his wool tunic and old leather jerkin. Anna tried to busy herself with mending a sock, but soon gave up and set the wooden darning egg on the table. She went to the corner where her quarterstaff stood next to the broom. She fingered the smooth pale wood, tracing the lines of runes that gave the weapon its enchantment, but she left it where it was.

A light rap sounded on the door. Anna turned in surprise; she'd heard no steps on the stairs. Finn opened the door and Xan stepped in, well-wrapped in his cloak.

"Good evening," the elf said, though the words seemed like an effort.

He drew down his hood but his cloak fell back into place, making him look like a sort of grey monolith in the firelight.

"Evening," Finn said. "Feeling up to this?"

"It matters little whether I am or not—we have a date to attend."

Finn didn't reply, busying himself instead with fixing his sword back onto his belt.

"When do you plan on departing?" the elf asked.

"As soon as Lady Skie gets here," he said, rather grimly.

"The Duke's daughter?" Xan said in surprise. "How in heaven is she a part of this?"

"If she wasn't, we wouldn't be either," Anna remarked. "We needed her to get a message to Edmund. Mistress Jhasso has decided her children are not to receive company any longer—that's why this meeting is so late. She's barring all visitors from their home."

The elf groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"Corellon—so this shall be less a chance for healing than another for intrigue. I should not have expected any less."

"Chin up, mate. Maybe we'll get lucky," Finn said. "First time for everything, eh?"

Xan looked at him. "We have been nothing _but _fortunate thus far. How else could you explain that we are all still standing? But Lady Luck does not extend her favours for long."

Finn let out a laugh. "Coming from you that sounds downright optimistic. Don't worry. In and out, nothing will happen. Besides, if anything does you can just give the guards your eye and send them to sleep like babes."

The elf let out a long sigh. He glanced over at Anna and she gave him a half-smile, but didn't bother to offer him any wine.

...

The tenth hour came and went with no sign of Skie Silvershield. The trio waited restlessly in the room; Finn paced the floor and Xan fidgeted with his rings, but Anna just sat still and quiet. Several times she thought to suggest that they leave without her, but still they waited.

At last she heard a faint commotion in the entryway. Two distinct voices hurried up the steps and a blunt knock sounded on the door. Finn drew it open with a puzzled look, surprised to see a man standing there.

"So sorry we're late, old chaps—dear Skie couldn't decide what ensemble to wear sleuthing."

"Oh, Eldoth, don't be a pig and blame this all on me," a voice behind him chirped. "Not after you refused to cut short your set!"

"Timperly pays by the _full hour, _darling, I don't know how many times I need to remind you," the bard replied. "And I little felt like performing for free. Not all of us have a _papa_ to pay our way."

The couple carried on bickering as they stepped inside, and Finn shut the door behind them.

"Alright, alright! We get it. The neighbours don't need to hear everything, ta. Are you coming as well?" he asked Eldoth.

"Of course—I'd hardly leave my precious delight to attend to a mission of such danger on her own," he announced, wrapping his arm around the woman as though they'd never argued.

Skie beamed and snuggled up to him. "Eldoth is such a _man—_just this last tenday some ruffians threatened us on the street, and you would not believe how quick he was with his dagger. He had them running like children! He's used to living in a terribly rough part of Waterdeep, don't you know."

The bard coughed. "Yes, dear. Although I hope you don't play me up too much as a rogue—bloodstains are quite impossible to get out of silk."

He adjusted the ruffles at his fine collar, and Finn gave him a look but shook his head.

"Well, fantastic. The more the merrier. Now, can we be off?"

They were all more than ready to depart. Finn jerked open the door but stepped back in surprise; another figure stood there, tall and broad-shouldered in a cloak.

"Good evening," Ajantis' voice said. "I am glad to find you still here."

Anna's face suddenly turned bright red and she dropped her eyes to the floor. Finn looked even more surprised, but he held out a hand.

"Good to see you again. I didn't figure to see you tonight though—I reckon Anna told you about our little outing?"

"Yes," he replied, clasping Finn's hand in return. "I hope I am not being presumptuous, but I thought you might need my aid."

"No offence to you, but I hope we don't," Finn said. "But you're welcome to come with us."

Ajantis nodded but said nothing more. Anna couldn't make out much of his expression with his face hidden in his hood, but she felt his eyes rest on her. She cleared her throat and wrapped her old cloak around her shoulders, fastening the pewter clasp tight.

"Well," Finn sighed. "Let's go do this, eh?"

...

The party filed out of the room and down onto the street. The air was even colder than the afternoon and frost sparkled on the abandoned carts and barrels that lined the pavement. Skie and Eldoth had taken to bickering again though they at least consented to keep the volume to a whisper. Xan and Ajantis led the way, walking near one another in silence. Anna kept glancing at the knight—she'd been more surprised to see him there than Finn. But then Ajantis had said he would come, and she knew well he wasn't the type to break a promise.

The Jhasso estate was on the northern side of town; unlike Rieltar Anchev the Jhassos maintained a separate private residence. The Watch kept the streets well-patrolled there and Anna felt a wave of guilt hit her whenever a guard glanced their way. Fortunately though none stopped to ask questions.

Skie took the lead and soon directed them down a narrow alley. They scurried along like rats over the cobblestones, stumbling as best they could in the dark night. Skie felt her way along, finally coming to a stop in front of a wooden door set in a high wall. She tried the bolt and let out a soft cry of delight as the door swung open.

"Isn't Celia grand?" she whispered. "Everyone, _shh!"_

She hushed them despite the fact that she was the only one talking. Finn closed the door behind them and Anna jumped nervously as it groaned on its hinges. Lady Silvershield led them confidently down the darkened garden path, past the eerily deformed shapes of shrubs and trees. A wide set of doors were set over a terrace but Skie ignored them, hurrying instead to another smaller door set in the side of the house.

It was open a crack and dim candlelight spilled onto the path. Skie very carefully drew it open, and Anna heard a rustling inside.

"Oh, you're here!" a woman's voice whispered. "Thank the gods, I thought you'd given up on us. Come in, come in."

They stepped into a large kitchen. A lone candle glowed on the table, sending a strange light over high shelves that were mostly empty. A nervous-looking young woman shut the door behind them.

"I am Celia Jhasso," she said to the newcomers. "But I suppose you guessed that. Edmund's upstairs keeping an eye on things. Mother retired over an hour ago, and I gave the servants the evening off. We shouldn't be disturbed. But I—didn't think there'd be so many of you. We'll have to be quiet."

"Neither did we," Finn said. "But we'll do what we can. Where's your father?"

"In his bedchamber, where he always is," Celia replied. "Come this way—and please be quiet."

She took up the candlestick and led them from the kitchen. The house was dark and no light burned in the hall or side chambers they passed; even if the mistress had retired for the night Anna thought it strange for such a large residence. Celia seemed to read her thoughts.

"I'm sorry it's so dark," she whispered. "But we put the lamps out now to save coin. We have to scrimp in everything—in fact we only have a couple of servants left."

The grand hall did seem oddly bare of furnishings; they likely would have been sold along with their business. Celia climbed the wide stairs and they all followed, keeping a pace behind her trailing gown.

Silently as they could they made their way down the upstairs hallway. Anna was glad for the heavy carpet underfoot which muffled the sounds of their passage. Celia began to almost tip-toe, and she paused before a heavy door. Without knocking she drew it open and ushered them inside.

...

The large bedchamber had a ceiling that seemed to stretch up to the heavens, melting like the sky into darkness. A low fire burned in the hearth but the light did little to illuminate that space. A heavy four-post bed stood in the centre, and Anna saw movement at its side. At once though a series of sharp barks broke through the darkness.

_"Spicer! No! Be quiet!"_

Edmund's voice hissed out of the gloom, trying in vain to silence the little dog. It broke free from him and the animated ball of fur circled the strangers, letting out excited yaps and growls.

"Spicer, _no!"_ Celia cried.

She handed the candle to Skie and managed to gather the animal into her arms, finally silencing him in a fashion. He still kept his little black eyes on the group though, letting out an unhappy growl now and then.

"Those tiny dogs have a worse temper than the large ones," Eldoth remarked. "Though they're at least easier to send off with a boot."

"Oh, Edmund, why is he in here?" Celia exclaimed. "You should have given him to Toby."

"I know, I forgot," Edmund replied. "Shut up, you little rat, or I'll have you shaved."

Spicer objected to the insult with another sharp yap. Celia grabbed him by the muzzle, silencing him again.

"Don't shout at him, it's not his fault," she said. "Spicer, _shhh. _Be quiet, they're friends."

The dog seemed indifferent to her claims, but Skie gave him a scratch on the ears and a cheerful talk which seemed to improve his mood somewhat. He still gave the group a baleful eye though and growled if any of them strayed too close.

"The whole neighbourhood would've heard that commotion," Finn remarked. "Are you sure we're still safe in here?"

"Mother's room is down the hall, I don't think she'd have heard anything," Edmund began, but he stopped hearing a groan from the bed.

_"Rats...rats..."_

Xan had remained silent during the exchange, though Anna almost fancied she could hear his thoughts. At once though the elf went to the bedside and leaned over the pale shadow of a man who lay there.

She wouldn't have thought it possible but Henerick Jhasso looked even worse than the last time she'd seen him. He seemed hardly alive, an animated skeleton of bone and flesh. His cheeks were hollow and his thin white beard clung to them like a tuft of fur falling from an animal. He turned to Xan and struggled to raise his arms from the coverlet.

_"Do you...have the coin?"_

"What coin is that, my old fellow?" Xan replied quietly.

_"Coin...need the coin..."_

"He's always talking about that coin," Edmund remarked.

"Very well, let us see if we can find it. Silence now, please, all of you."

Xan sat gingerly on the bedside, running his hands lightly over the man's temples. He shut his eyes and his brow knotted up as if he were staring into the sun.

_"What...coin is it,"_ the elf said.

His voice was quiet and strange. He spoke to the man in that vague tone, asking questions which had no answers that could be heard. Jhasso let out a swift moan and mumbled something but Xan kept his hands firmly in place. In the candlelight Anna could see sweat start to bead on the elf's forehead. He twitched in pain but kept his hands where they were.

...

For some minutes the exchange went on. The others all stood transfixed, huddled like statues around the bed. All bar one—the little dog turned his head towards the door, and the next moment he let out a noise that Anna had rarely heard from an animal. Though in truth she felt like making one herself; her heart leaped seeing Mistress Jhasso standing in the doorway, pale and ghostly in her long white dressing gown.

"What is happening in here?" the woman demanded.

_"Mama!"_ Celia exclaimed, trying to hold on to the dog. "We were just—"

Spicer wrestled himself free from her grasp and jumped to the floor. He ran towards his mistress but paused in the middle of the room, shaking and whining. Mistress Jhasso stood frozen, staring at the creature as though he were a wild animal. She turned her gaze back to her daughter.

"Who are these people?" she demanded again. "Get them away from your father!"

"But, Mama—they're the ones who tried to help Papa before," Edmund hesitated. "The ones Captain Merion brought for us."

Mistress Jhasso strode forward and the little dog fell back against Celia, huddling up against her skirts. The matron though just ignored it.

"Of course...I did not recognise them in the light," she said. "But why are they here? I did not call for them."

"Madam, your son asked us for aid," Xan replied. "As I did before, I was seeking to apply my abilities in hopes of freeing your husband from his affliction."

He rose up from the bed, wobbling slightly like a man woken from a dream. Mistress Jhasso glared at him.

"My husband is already in the care of the finest of physicians, and I doubt your abilities would be of a match for his. Your services are not required here."

The statement seemed to prick at Xan and he stood more upright.

"With respect, madam, I have been trained by the finest elven enchanters, and have had centuries of—"

"And what should that mean to me?" Mistress Jhasso interrupted. "I know nothing of your qualifications, and I care little for _elves."_

She spat the statement with obvious bile, and Xan looked at her in surprise. Edmund though cut off his reply.

"Mother, please...that healer you hired does nothing at all. How else could Father keep growing worse and worse? Please, let this elf look at him. It couldn't possibly make him any more ill."

Ajantis seemed to take a cue and stepped forward with a bow.

"Madam, we do apologise for this intrusion into your home," he said. "And I am certain it must seem alarming. However, I give you my word as a servant of Helm that we only wish to aid you. And whilst I myself have been wary of enchanters, my companion is competent in the healing art, of that I am sure."

"Then that is your own opinion," Mistress Jhasso replied. "As weak as Henerick is I refuse to risk it. And how would you know if your father's condition is improved, Edmund? You do little but hang about the house with a goblet in your hand like a hopeless tramp. You spend what little coin we have left at the wineseller's. If burglars broke in and emptied out the place you would never know."

Edmund looked embarrassed. "I know, Mother, and I'm not—I have been looking over the books, trying to see if there's any way—"

"But there is, and you refuse to accept it," his mother interrupted. "I heard today that you turned down Rieltar Anchev's offer of a position. Your father and I are so very disappointed in you, Edmund, that I cannot express."

She delivered the speech with finality, shaking her perfect grey curls in despair. Anna could feel a jolt go through the young man.

"You talk about thieves? Burglars _have _broken in, Mother—they've stolen every last damn thing!" he swore. "Haven't you noticed? Everything's gone, there's nothing left to steal! And how can you even say—work for Anchev? After everything he's done? You're mad as Father! And how could he be disappointed in me, Mother, how? Look at him—he can't even speak! I've had enough of this. I have a right to speak my mind, and I say that this elf can try to help. And you and your healer can go straight to the Nine Hells!"

They all cringed at the outburst but Edmund seemed to hardly care. He ran his hands through his hair and grasped at his temples, gnashing his teeth like a child.

"_Edmund!" _Celia exclaimed in horror, but his mother merely looked at him.

"You are correct, Edmund," she said slowly. "But he grows weaker because he does not wish to be healed. Do you not understand? If Anchev had not bought our debts, your father and I would be in _prison. _We would rot as debtors and you and your sister would be on the street. Whatever you think of that man, Rieltar Anchev saved us. You could go and work for him, to try and see that our assets are managed properly—but no. You blame all the world but refuse to do a thing to improve your lot. You may swear at me all you wish but it does not change those facts."

Edmund deflated; he looked sick as he did at the party. Even from a distance Anna could smell the wine on him, and the scent grew keener as he began to sweat. None of the others seemed sure what to do and even Ajantis stood silent. Anna noticed though that Xan kept staring at the woman, his mouth slightly parted and a confused expression on his face.

_"Lle naa raika," _he said quietly.

"I can assure you I am not wrong," Mistress Jhasso replied, but the elf kept staring at her and a darker expression washed over her face. "But you certainly were wrong to come here. Leave my house at once, or I shall be forced to call the guards."

"We haven't got any guards, Mama, have you forgotten?" Edmund spat. "We had to dismiss them."

"Ignorant child," she hissed. "Then the Flaming Fist! Get these people out of my house at once! And do not ever return, or I shall have you arrested on the spot."

"Oh, but Mistress Jhasso—" Skie piped up.

"You as well, you untrustworthy chit," she replied, turning to the girl. "You must have led them here against my wishes. I will not have you corrupting my daughter any more. Be gone!"

Skie stared at her with an expression of shock and even Eldoth gave the matron a foul look. Celia scooped up the cowering dog and ran past her mother out of the room, hiding her face as she went. Edmund though stood firm.

"No, mother—I say they won't. They're not going anywhere."

"Then _you _will," Mistress Jhasso replied. "You are no child, and this is your home no longer. Obey me or be gone from my sight."

Edmund jerked, and he looked down at his father. The old man had fallen back against the pillows and seemed to be asleep. Anna kept staring at Mistress Jhasso—she seemed a hundred miles from the woman she met before. The coldness of her words radiated from her as though she were carved from ice.

"Maybe we—should just leave," Finn said slowly.

"An excellent idea," Mistress Jhasso replied. "All of you be gone from here—I must see that Henerick gets his medicine."

She strode past them and pulled a small vial from the bedside table. Jhasso seemed to awaken, and turned his head towards her.

_"Lavinia...no..."_

"Hush, my dear," she replied, running a hand over his brow. "Your wife is here. Take this."

_"No..."_

The old man resisted but his wife practically forced a spoon into his mouth. Suddenly Anna spoke.

"Mistress Jhasso—I wanted to tell you how sorry we were about Captain Merion. It was a terrible loss."

"Merion has been trying to get himself killed for thirty years, and he succeeded at last," she said, not turning from the bed. "I see little of sorrow in that. But I will not tell you again—leave now, or I shall summon the Flaming Fist."

"Mother..." Edmund began, but Finn took him by the arm.

"Come on, mate. Let's leave it for now."

...

He pulled on the young man again and reluctantly he left his father's side. The others filed out of the room after him. Anna glanced back; Mistress Jhasso was still leaning over her husband, seemingly ignoring their departure. Edmund shut the door behind them and grasped his hair in his hands, letting out a sob.

"Oh, gods—what is the matter with her? What's the matter with everyone?"

"She has a widow's temperament," Eldoth remarked, but didn't elaborate.

"Oh, Eddie, what are you going to do?" Skie asked. "You could come and stay with us. I'm sure Father wouldn't mind."

Edmund shook his head. "No...no. I can't. Mother was right about one thing—I have to take care of things now. Maybe Celia will...I don't know. Can you find your way out? I need a drink."

He slumped away without waiting on an answer, and disappeared into a darkened room at the end of the hall. Xan stared after him.

"That young man is in danger. They all are here," he said low.

"What do you mean?" Finn asked. "What did you see in Jhasso's head?"

"It is not what I saw in his mind that disturbed me," Xan replied. "But let us leave this place. I do not think it safe to speak."

"But what about the Jhassos?" Skie asked. "Shouldn't we—"

"There is little we can do now. Come, let us be away from here."

They took little prompting to follow his lead. Anna stumbled down the dark staircase, wondering what it was that troubled the elf. They found their way back out of the kitchen, through the garden and into the alley. A thin moonlight washed over the deserted streets, softening the shadows where the streetlamps failed. Once in the square they stood huddled together in silence, unsure of what to do.

"What did you mean by danger?" Ajantis finally said.

Xan shook his head. "I do not know what is happening in that house, but it is filled with demons. Something was _wrong _with that woman...something terribly wrong. I could feel it."

"Her dog," Anna said quietly.

"Yes, I noticed that as well," Xan replied. "It is not too much to say that the animal seemed terrified of her. But why?"

"Is she charmed too?" Finn asked.

"Perhaps," the elf said. "But something...no, it was _wrong."_

He bit at his thumb thoughtfully, seemingly unwilling or unable to elaborate. Finn let out a groan.

"Well, this all just went tits up, didn't it? Probably have been better if we hadn't showed at all. Unless anyone else has any ideas I say we call it a night—I've still got to report in in the morning."

"I don't feel like going home," Skie said. "I know I wouldn't sleep a wink thinking of poor Celia and Edmund. Eldoth, shall we find a tavern? Somewhere that there's singing and life."

"At your command," the bard replied. "Don't feel too troubled about it—if there's one thing I've learned in this life it's that some people are determined to wallow in their own suffering. Fair eve, my friends."

Eldoth wrapped an arm around Skie and they vanished into the darkness. Ajantis sighed.

"How correct he is. But I too shall retreat for the night. If there is any other news please keep me informed."

He bowed and also departed. Anna tried to speak, to say goodnight even, but the words caught in her throat. She watched him fading into the night, and suddenly the chill of the air came to her and she shivered.

...

"Guess we'll be off and all," Finn said.

Xan had been staring off into the ether, barely seeming to register the knight's departure. At Finn's words though he jerked.

"Yes, although...there is something you should see. My inn is not far from here and it would take little time."

Finn groaned slightly and Anna didn't blame him, but they dutifully followed the elf up to the Golden Hind. Surprisingly Xan set a key into the tavern door and ushered them inside.

"The landlady feels it easier to give her boarders a key rather than pay a night servant," the elf said quietly. "And it works for my purposes. Come, this way."

He led them up the stairs, his feet making little noise on the carpet. Anna tried to follow suit though she began to feel like an impetuous youth with all the sneaking about she'd been doing. Xan paused at a door and let them in.

The small sitting room was as tidily-presented as the common room downstairs. A fire threw its light over the rug but she shuddered in surprise at how cold the chamber was. A slight rustling of the curtains told her the windows were open. Xan brushed past them and pulled shut the offending panes.

"Apologies—this chamber takes the full of the breeze, and could lead anyone to influenza."

He turned around, but Anna jumped at the sound of a voice coming from the darkness of a side chamber.

_"Mankoi lle uma tanya? Sina sambe quoroa amin."_

A dark haired elven woman stepped into the room, barefoot and wrapped in a robe of thin silk. She cast her eyes over the newcomers but looked back to Xan.

"Because it is freezing this night," the enchanter replied, giving her a look. "And I do not think the landlady would appreciate our burning fuel to heat the outside."

_"Omea sinome gorga pelekko," _she remarked.

_"Uma, uma," _Xan sighed. "In Common, if you please. We have guests."

"As you wish," the woman said. "I merely remarked what a pity it was that so many trees fall because men fear the fresh air."

Anna's eyebrow raised but Xan cleared his throat.

"Yes, but on a night such as this I could not blame them. I am surprised to find you here though, I was not expecting you back for some days. Was your enquiry successful?"

"Not very, which is why I have returned," the woman replied, setting two glass flutes onto a side table. "But we shall speak later."

She took out what looked like a gourd and poured two glasses of deep red wine. She gave one to Xan and he sipped it, looking rather surprised.

"Where in heaven did you get fey wine?"

The woman smiled. "A slight benefit of my journey—I thought we could use a treat."

"Right," Finn said. "And you are?"

"Of course, you would not know me," she said, turning to them. "I am Luedre Nimbreth, one you might call a Greycloak."

"That was you, then," Anna said. "I remember—that night in Beregost. I saw you and Xan together. Were you the one who saw us when we came to the city?"

"You are correct on both counts," the woman replied. _"Heruamin _had been out of contact long enough that our superiors decided to investigate, but I arrived to find that you had already liberated him from his prison."

"The council is ever compassionate," Xan muttered. "But never mind. I am certain Finn and Anna would appreciate it if this meeting were kept brief. A contact passed a document to me today, one that must bear some meaning in all this."

...

He walked over to a small chest, running a hand over it and speaking to disarm the wards. Xan pulled out a parchment and gave it to Finn, who read it with a confused expression.

"What's this mean?" he said.

"I have no more idea than you," the elf replied.

Anna peered over Finn's shoulder and he showed her the parchment. It was an official document, bearing the seal of the Dukes, and through all the official language she could gather it was a land deed.

"In brief, the document details the purchase of a large parcel of Cloakwood by one Lavinia Jhasso," Xan said. "And for one not solvent enough to afford lamp oil it seems remarkably indulgent."

"No," Finn said. "Where'd you get this?"

Xan's lip curled. "Even criminals must occasionally use official channels, and I have a friend in the city clerk's office. Human bureaucracy can sometimes have its uses."

"But if these coordinates are right—it _can't_ be."

"I am afraid it is," the elf said. "It is the location of that accursed iron mine."

"Why in the hells would she buy that?" Finn exclaimed. "And didn't Anchev say—"

"He said the Iron Throne lawfully purchased the mine, yes. And I had no reason not to believe him. But if that were the case why should it now come to be in the hands of Lavinia Jhasso, of all women? I would not have marked her as a friend of the Iron Throne."

"They clearly must consider her part of their fold to do such a thing," Luedre remarked. "Either that, or they consider her expendable."

She'd seated herself in one of the chairs, sipping her wine and listening with interest to the conversation. Anna spoke up.

"I didn't think anyone but the Dukes owned rights in that part of Cloakwood. It's all wilderness, impossible for travelling."

"Parcels may be bought, but as you say, few would bother," Xan replied. "My contact has been searching for the original deed, but it appears to be unfortunately _misfiled."_

"So now what?" Finn said, dropping down into a chair with a thump. "Mistress Jhasso's against us too? I wish I'd known about this, I'd have grilled her for sure."

"Which is perhaps all the better that you did not know," Xan said.

"You said something was wrong with her," Anna said. "What did you mean?"

Xan sat onto a sofa, resting his head on his hands and rubbing his brow.

"That I cannot tell you, for I do not know myself. I found nothing coherent in Jhasso's memories—only vague images, fear. But when his wife entered—it was a feeling, like something pricking at the base of my neck. It was almost like...never mind. But I would ask you not to mention this to anyone for now. We should consider carefully what to do next."

"What you should do is finish your wine," Luedre said. "You will only give yourself more headaches by endlessly pondering these troubles. Relax for one eve."

She brought him his glass and brushed her hand briefly over his shoulder. Xan looked up in surprise, but a slight smile flickered over his face.

"Yes, you are right. There is nothing that can be done this night, regardless."

"I'm glad to hear it," Finn said, stifling a yawn. "I'm starting to think of becoming undead—hells, I'm halfway there already. I don't know what to make of any of this. If you figure anything out, let us know. I'll tell the captain tomorrow—"

"No," Xan interrupted. "I beg you, not a word even to him. We must keep this limited to those we can trust."

"You don't think I can trust my captain?" Finn said, a bit too loudly.

"I do not mean him any offence. I am certain he is a decent man. But for now—please."

"He's probably right, Finn," Anna said. "It will keep."

"Alright," he groaned. "Though he might not be too happy when he hears I've been holding out on him. But for now, let's just get to bed."

They said farewell and departed down the steps, hearing the faint sound of silvery elvish voices behind the door. Finn carefully let the latch slide into place as they left the inn and they hurried home through the deserted streets.

"No lady, eh?" he chuckled to himself. "By the look she gave him, that robe must have hit the floor the minute we left."

"Oh, stop," Anna said.

"What, you don't think?"

"No, I don't care," she remarked. "Everything that's happened today and you only want to tease Xan about his love life. What does it matter?"

Finn gave her a look.

"Sorry, love. But right now it's either joke or put my fist into a wall. And I'd rather save my fists for something more deserving than a lump of plaster."

Anna said nothing else. They walked swiftly through the frost-covered streets, past the watchful eyes of guards and other less salubrious individuals. Even the taverns were empty at that hour and the city seemed truly dead.

...

The house was dark and loomed up at them in the night. Softly they made their way up the steps and Finn unlocked the door. The chamber was so dark he needed to light the candle so they could see to undress. Anna slipped out of her frock, still silent and angry though she had no idea why. All this business was getting to her too, she thought as she crawled into bed.

Anna slid her hand under the pillow, but suddenly let out a pained cry. She sat up quickly and Finn turned to her.

"Did you leave this here?" she demanded. "What were you thinking?"

She clutched her shift to her bleeding palm and nodded at the bare dagger that rested on the bed. Finn stared at it with wide eyes.

"That's not mine."

"What?" Anna said weakly.

"That isn't _mine," _he repeated.

They both looked at the dagger as if it were a snake, coiled and ready to spring. Anna clutched harder at her bleeding hand; the cut wasn't deep but she felt like she'd been stabbed to the quick.

_"Oh, gods," _she said. "They were here, weren't they? Where are they—?"

Finn swore and drew his sword. He stabbed it under the bed and into the air of the corners like a madman, even throwing open the small cupboard where not even a halfling could hide.

_"Where are you, damn it!" _he shouted. "Come out! Come out and face me like a man, for once!"

"Finn, stop it," she pleaded. "They're gone. They're not here. They're gone."

He looked around the room with wild eyes, and at Anna clutching her bleeding hand. He tried to speak but nothing came out. Finn picked up the dagger and threw it with a violent cry across the room, sending it deep into the stained wall.


	78. Wounds

She opened her eyes to a grey daylight filtering through the curtain. Sleep had come in fitful bursts, always jerking her awake at some imagined noise. Even in Anna's dreams cloaked men stalked her. But Finn's low voice came through the darkness and she tried to sleep again.

He hadn't slept at all, spending the night instead in one of the wobbling chairs on the chance he might doze off. Anna rolled over to look at him. His face had a pallid hue and the circles beneath his eyes were heavy.

"Why don't you get some more sleep?" he said mechanically.

"It's almost daybreak," Anna replied. "Aren't you going in?"

"Not today."

He fingered the sword that lay on the table, running his hand down the scabbard. Anna sat up.

"You should go. Whoever did this, they only wanted to scare us. If they wanted to, they could have..."

She trailed off and Finn looked at her.

"Well, it's mission accomplished then. We're not staying in here another night. When it gets light pack up, and I'll go talk to Captain Dessander."

"And say what?" she asked.

"I don't know," Finn sighed.

Anna rose out of bed and threw her shawl around her shoulders. She wrapped her arms tight around him, burying her lips in his hair. He caressed her injured hand but didn't move. Finn healed the cut well enough that she didn't need a bandage, but from the faint burning pain along the wound she worried it was still becoming infected. Anna pulled herself closer to him and sighed.

"Go on. They'll discipline you if you don't go, and the last thing we need is more trouble. I'll be fine here. I'm a mage, remember? I could cover this room with enough wards that Elminster himself couldn't walk in."

She tried to sound cheerful as possible but Finn's face didn't lift. He ran a hand over his exhausted eyes and groaned.

"Yeah. You're right. I'll talk to the captain—there must be something. But do me a favour won't you, and stay here today? No need to be out making a target of yourself."

Anna let out her own groan. "I'd rather face an army of assassins than sit in this room another day. I'm going mad here. But...maybe you're right."

Finn didn't reply but squeezed her hand again, and rose up to try and wash some of the sleep out of his eyes. Anna though didn't want to mention that her agreement had less to do with fear and more with the unpleasant burning sensation she could feel beginning to rise in her stomach. She tugged on her dress while silently cursing her folly in drinking the well water the day before.

...

Finn departed and Anna bolted the door securely behind him. She drew the curtain and cracked the window to the fresh morning air as usual, but soon shut it again. The open orb made her feel too exposed and even the watch pacing the city wall made her feel nervous. But a few minutes in the closed off, grim light was enough for her to throw caution to the wind and she boldly drew it open once more.

The gap between the tolling of the bells seemed like an eternity as she paced the floor. There was no real reason for her to leave the house; they had food and drink enough, and perhaps Finn was right. Anna only strayed outside long enough to fetch a bucketful of the brown water to clean her blood-stained shift.

Even Ella kept to herself that day and Anna was entirely alone. She tried studying her neglected spellbook but it was a half-hearted enterprise; the strange shooting pains in her stomach had her worried and the thin line of the cut grew increasingly red. Anna mashed together a poultice of herbs for her hand and seeped others for a tisane, hoping her symptoms wouldn't grow any worse.

Fortunately her hopes seemed to play out and the gnawing pain receded as the hours wore on. Anna gathered up the bucket to fetch more water, but she paused in surprise noticing the outside door was closed. She opened it to see one of their neighbours in full uniform standing on the steps.

"Afternoon," she said. "Aren't you going in?"

"Nope," he replied. "We heard you've been having a bit of trouble here so we decided to keep a guard. I'm off duty for a few hours, so it's my shift."

Anna suddenly felt her cheeks growing red. "Thank you, but...you don't need to trouble yourselves," she stammered.

"Hey, the Fist looks after their own. Don't know what you and Finn are messed up in, but if you've got trouble then so do we. Besides, our families live here too. Don't worry about it."

Anna felt surprised and pleased, and she tried to thank him but he waved her on her way with a grin. She drew up the water and made her way back up to the room, feeling for the first time thankful that they lived in that run-down house.

She cooked up another pottage though even she had lost any taste for the mushy stew of vegetables. Anna meant to buy a little oven or spit to lay in the coals but her investment in clothing had left a considerable dent in their finances, and with Finn not expecting any wages until next month she decided to leave it till then. With winter not far off the shopkeepers were putting up the cost of everything from fish to firewood, and she needed to economise. Grimly she stirred the pot, trying not to think of the well-stocked cellar she left behind in Beregost.

...

It was dark when Finn came home though he seemed to be in a better mood than when he left.

"Captain Dessander's assigning a night patrol to guard this place," he said. "He's going to have the lock fixed as well. And I had a talk with Mick on my way out the door—he's going to work out some kind of rota for keeping watch during the day. What do you think?"

Finn gave her a squeeze and a kiss, and she smiled up at him.

"That's good. I talked with Baz and he said something about being on watch. It should be safe now, I think."

"Aye, safe as we'll ever be. The captain's at his wit's end with all these goings-on. Dosan's been giving him grief as well—but that's nothing new."

Anna thought he finished his sentence rather abruptly but at that moment she felt better not knowing.

"Are you still riding out of the city?" she asked while slicing what was left of the hard bread.

"No, been patrolling in the docks," Finn sighed. He pulled off his cloak and uniform and sat down. "Surprised you can't smell the fish on me—I think about a dozen cats were trailing me all the way home."

Anna laughed and sat down to eat. She didn't get very far into the bowl before she regretted it; the food made her stomach cry out in pain, and she clutched a hand to her middle and groaned.

"It's not that bad," Finn tried to joke. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," she breathed. "Though I think...I'll be back."

Finn looked up in surprise but she hurried out of the chamber, down into the dark back garden. She desperately hoped none of their neighbours were on the privy but fortunately the little wooden cell was deserted.

The keen odour of the sewer came to her and she yielded to that frothing sensation in her stomach, sending what little she'd eaten down the hole into the wastes below. There didn't seem to be any end to her sickness and she crouched on her knees in the filthy privy, clinging to its sides in agony.

At last the feeling subsided and she crouched down, wiping her mouth with a shaking hand. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and she glanced out over the yard. A slight movement at her feet caught her eye; a fat rat was watching her with equal curiosity, his little black eyes glittering in the moonlight. Anna let out a kick in his direction and the creature swiftly melted into the shadows.

She lay there for some time in the cold, stinking air, not trusting her vibrating stomach enough to move. Soon a figure stepped into the yard, and Finn came and leaned over her.

"Are you all right? What's the matter?"

He spoke earnestly and tried to lift her to her feet, but she resisted.

"I'm...not very well," Anna replied, her voice raw and shaking. "I think I'll...stay here awhile."

"You can't do that, it's freezing out here. What's wrong?" he repeated.

"It's the water...I drank some yesterday. Stupid, I know."

"Gods," Finn muttered. "Whenever we had a drought half of Candlekeep would get it. It's alright—come on back upstairs. You can't stay down here."

...

Anna protested but by then she was shaking with cold. Finn picked her up and helped her stumble past the new guards up to their room. She tried to unlace her dirty dress but a wave of heat suddenly washed over her body. When she opened her eyes she was lying on the bed, with Finn hovering over her.

_"What?" _she said, confused.

"You just collapsed onto the floor—came that close to braining yourself on the table," he said quickly. "I'm going to find a healer. Just lie here."

Anna couldn't muster a reply, and vaguely she saw Finn hurrying from the chamber. Another wave of heat hit her and she tore at the blankets, but thankfully the sick feeling passed. Why did she drink that water? One moment of foolishness, and...but Finn was going to find a healer. Couldn't he help her? She looked at her palm; her hand was on fire. Why did it hurt so much? Finn healed her... Anna's thoughts were interrupted by another wave of sickness and she reached desperately for the chamber pot.

She managed to crawl back into bed and lay there shaking, freezing with cold despite the sweat that was pouring off her brow. Anna had been ill before from bad meat but she could remember no sickness like this. She tried to drive away all the stories she'd heard about people who died in agony from tainted water, but they kept rattling in her feverish brain.

At last the door burst open and Finn appeared, followed by a balding man with small spectacles. Anna stared at him for a moment before realising he was the apothecary from up the lane. He sat on the corner of the bed, examining Anna's mouth and lightly tugging down her eyelids.

"Well poisoning, you said?" the man stated. "Are you certain?"

"That's what she said," Finn replied.

The apothecary shook his head. He stuck an index finger into her mouth and sniffed at it.

"Do you have any more light?" he asked.

Finn gathered up several tapers and lit them, holding the candles carefully over the bed. The apothecary continued his examination, still shaking his head.

"What's the matter with her?" Finn demanded.

"Her colouring is wrong," the man said. "It's hard to tell in this light...but can you see the discolouration in her lips? And her breath has a strange odour. I deal with well sickness all the time, but—if I didn't know better, I'd swear to Ilmater that she's been poisoned."

The very word seemed to make Anna's stomach churn, and Finn's eyes opened wide.

"Poisoned? But how—oh, gods, no. Not that. You bastards, I'm going to—"

"My hand," Anna croaked. "It's my hand."

The apothecary hadn't removed her poultice but she held it out for him, and he carefully unwrapped the bandage and scraped away the herbs. Anna shuddered; the wound was weeping and the flesh surrounding it had turned a sick purple shade.

"How did you get this?" he asked.

"It wasn't an accident, let's leave it at that," Finn said brutally. "What did you do with the knife?"

Anna had pulled the dagger from the wall that morning, setting it in the cupboard as she could think of nothing else to do with it. The apothecary fetched the blade but Anna had cleaned it before she set it away, and there was nothing to see.

"A poisoned blade? It's possible. But why would anyone wish to do such a thing?" the apothecary asked.

"Never mind," Finn replied. "What can you do for her?"

"I have antidote left," Anna said. "There's some..."

She pointed in the general direction of her pack. Finn found a vial and she swallowed it. The antidote brought a welcome cooling sensation but her hand still burned. The apothecary stared at her palm, still regarding the cut with that dubious head-shaking.

"This still looks infected. I will leave you some herbs for a poultice and a cleansing tincture. Take a spoonful in some wine every few hours. If she still isn't well by tomorrow though, I would suggest seeking the services of a priest. Their magic is more potent than mine. And do report this to the Flaming Fist—we cannot have poisoners running around our city."

"We _are _the Flaming Fist," Finn replied. "But we'll keep it in mind."

The apothecary seemed put-out by Finn's attitude and retreated soon after measuring out Anna's medicine. She ran a hand over her damp brow, watching her husband as he paced the floor, muttering foul threats and obscenities to invisible assassins.

"I'll be alright, Finn," she said. "We know what it is now."

"It's not _all right," _he replied. "You hit the floor and...I tried, but I couldn't wake you up. I thought...fecking hells, I'm going to kill him!"

The last words echoed around the little room and Anna sat up.

"Stop this, please. Stop shouting. If it's Anchev, we'll..."

She broke off looking at Finn. He stood leaning over the table, clutching at its edge and clenching his jaw. His face had a horrible expression for a moment but it melted into a kind of grim laughter.

"It's not Anchev. It's not the Throne. Hells, it's not even Dosan. But I know who it is. You bastard whelp, now you're going to die."

"Who are you talking about?" Anna said.

"Never mind," Finn replied. He straightened up and threw his cloak around his shoulders. "I'm going out for awhile. Will you be alright, or do you want Ella?"

"But where are you going?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry. I'm going to take care of it."

He bent down and kissed her quickly on the brow, but she kept staring at him in shock.

_"Finn! _Where are you going? What—?"

Her questions went unanswered though as he strapped on his sword and hurried out of the room. Anna stared after him, dumbfounded, but a kind of panic began to rise. It wasn't his anger that frightened her, but rather that cold edge in his voice that made her feel numb. She stumbled out of bed, trying to ignore the churning her stomach did at the sudden movement. Quickly as she could she pulled on her clothes and followed him into the night.

...

Anna had no idea where Finn was headed, but fortunately she managed to catch a glimpse of his cloak heading away down a street. At first she fought to catch up with him but her weakness made her slacken her pace. The streets were largely deserted in the cold night though and she managed to keep him in her sight.

She began to sweat and wondered yet again where Finn was going, but he kept moving and somehow her feet followed. Who had he meant? She could think of no one outside the obvious who would want her poisoned. And why did he say... Anna knew he only spoke in anger but she still hoped to catch him before he did anything rash.

Surprisingly she noted that he kept them heading towards the docks. Due to the size of the city the drawbridge to Wyrm Island was kept open at night, though any passing cart was likely to find themselves searched by the guard. Fortunately none stopped to ask Anna where she was heading; especially fortunate as she had no idea herself.

The docks were busy even at that hour and every tavern burst with song and loud laughter. Sailors and other folk stumbled around on the cobbles, singing and making catcalls to any woman unlucky enough to stray within earshot. Anna firmly ignored the offers though, trying her best to keep her eyes on Finn. The drunken crowd made it difficult and she let out a sigh of relief as he finally slipped into a tavern.

Her relief faded stepping into the filthy inn. Dirty straw covered the floor and the scent of smoke and unwashed bodies made her stomach churn again. A few heads turned at her entrance but none bothered with a comment, distracted as they were from laughter. In horror Anna saw the object of their amusement—Finn was in the centre of the tavern, knocking over chairs and tankards as he wrestled an unknown man to the floor.

Anna couldn't hear what he was saying to the man but by the expression on his face it was no joke. The man struggled but he wasn't a match for Finn, who pinned him down with a knee in his back. The crowd egged on the fight, shouting and cheering as if it were a gladiator contest.

As she tried to make sense of the scene another man crept up behind Finn. He raised his hand and Anna caught sight of a flash of metal. Instinctively she cried out and sent a flash of burning light shooting from her hands. The man fell backwards in agony and Finn leaped up, surprised.

Somehow the entire tavern seemed to explode like her missile. Bodies jumped from their chairs, taking their chances with seemingly whoever was nearest. Anna could hear her name coming from somewhere within the confusion but she couldn't respond; that heat washed over her again and she collapsed onto the rank straw.

...

Anna's eyes opened. They blinked against the bright sunlight, and in surprise at the elvish face that hovered mere inches from hers.

"You are alive, at least. I have had my moments of doubt in that matter."

_"Xan?" _Anna said, and the elf nodded as if to confirm her question.

"So I remain. Though you should drink this if you feel able to. I was given strict instructions to feed it to you should you ever awake—though I should say a taste of this might well make you regret opening your eyes."

He reached for a bottle at the bedside and poured a draft of thick black liquid into a cup. Xan mixed in a small amount of whiskey and gave the concoction to Anna, who sputtered at the first sniff. Somehow she forced the appalling creation down.

"Gods—what is in this?"

"I should think you're better off not knowing," the elf replied.

"How long have I been asleep?" Anna asked. "Where's Finn? And...where are we?"

She realised for the first time that they were in a strange chamber. The drab furnishings marked it as an inn, and the distinctive sounds of the docks filtered in through the open window. Xan sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Finn somehow managed to escape the mayhem you started last night, and in your state he could hardly carry you all the way back home. He managed to find an inn for you. I heard him shouting under my window at some untold hour, and we made our way here. It is remarkable that you are even alive," he added seriously.

"The healer said I was poisoned," Anna said.

She touched her bandaged hand and winced; the wound clearly was no better than last night.

"That is as I understand it, yes," Xan said.

Anna glanced at him; somehow she thought the elf seemed even more grave than usual. Her stomach felt strange but she couldn't tell if it was from the poison or the bitter tonic he gave her. She swallowed hard and tried to get the taste out of her mouth.

"That tastes just like the tonic Jaheira used to give us. It's hard to believe someone managed to copy her talents."

Xan pursed his lips. "Frightening though that might be, it is no copy. The lady herself instructed me to give it to you."

"What, you mean?" Anna began, but her words were cut off by the sounds of voices in the hall.

...

The door opened and there could be no mistake—the druid stepped inside, her mouth tight and her hair braided back from her face as always. Close behind her followed Khalid whose eyes lit up into a smile seeing Anna looking up at them.

"She's awake," Jaheira said. "Has she taken the medicine, Xan?"

"Yes. She awoke just now."

The elf rose to his feet and Jaheira took his place. She examined Anna's mouth and eyes much like the apothecary had done, her face still grim and with no word of greeting.

Anna remained still as possible and didn't attempt to speak; she knew the druid's healing style all too well by now. Jaheira took her by the hand and began unwrapping the bandage.

"Would you bring me a cloth, my husband?"

Khalid said nothing but did as requested. Slowly the bandage fell away and Anna became more aware of the pain; it stung keenly as if the dagger were still in her flesh. Seeing the wound almost made her wish that were true. The veins in her palm had doubled in size, throbbing with that sick purple colour. They spread out like tentacles up her hand and disappeared into her arm. The wound itself oozed a foul mattery substance that Anna could smell, and the scent of it turned her.

"Why hasn't that healed?" she asked almost in a whimper. Jaheira bit her lip and began cleaning away the pus with the rag.

"The poison is...a unique one," she replied, but said nothing more.

Anna winced again as Jaheira dabbed the wound with alcohol and re-wrapped it in a fresh bandage. Khalid and Xan watched her working, and the men were so still and silent it frightened her.

"Where's Finn?" she asked again.

"Down in the tavern, drinking like a damned fool," was Jaheira's terse reply.

"Kivan is watching him," Khalid said quietly.

Xan sighed audibly and Jaheira's face looked like it might crack at any moment. Anna could bear no more, and she spoke as loudly as she could.

"Will someone please tell me what is happening?"

"Don't strain yourself," Jaheira replied. "You must rest. We will see to everything."

"That's not an answer," Anna remarked. "Tell me. What are you even doing here? You said you were marching to the south."

Jaheira threw her a glare but spoke.

"We arrived in the city yesterday. We...decided this business was too important to abandon, orders or no. We knew where Xan was lodging so we sought him out."

"But, why..." Anna fingered her burning hand, trying to move her stiff fingers. "But what is the matter with me? You know. Tell me."

The druid shook her head. "Just rest for now. We will tell you when there is more to tell."

_"Jaheira," _Anna began, but Xan suddenly spoke.

"You have been given a poison that will only respond to a unique antidote. And without that antidote, you are certain to die before the tenday is out. I am sorry."

...

Anna stared at him; though she heard the elf speak his words didn't seem real. Xan glanced back down at the floor and Jaheira flashed out.

"Why did you tell her? Any more stress is only likely to hasten—"

"She has a right to know," the elf replied. "She is not a child."

Jaheira groaned and rubbed her forehead. Anna looked between her, Khalid and Xan, silently imploring them for answers.

"There is some good news," the druid said. "An antidote is available, but acquiring it will be somewhat...problematic."

"What does that mean?" Anna asked.

Before she could reply there came the sound of heavy boots in the hall. The door burst open and Finn stumbled in, pale-faced with glassy red eyes. He saw Anna looking at him and sat hard onto the bed, virtually pushing Jaheira aside in the process.

"Gods, you're awake," he said. "Thank the gods, I thought..."

He ran a hand over her hair and Anna could smell the ale on his breath. Jaheira pulled the chair back and spoke sharply.

"And so concerned you were about your wife's well-being that you decided to spend the morning in the tavern. If you were ever to decide to act like an adult, Finn, this would be an ideal time."

He scowled and began to reply but Anna sunk her fingers as hard as she could into his arm. She looked up though as a silent figure appeared in the doorway.

"He is here," Kivan said.

The ranger looked around at them all, and at Anna lying in the bed with Finn nearly on top of her. As usual though his dark eyes told her nothing.

"Well. Let us see to this business, shall we?" Jaheira replied. "Finn, if you wish to remain here it might be for the best."

"You think I'm not going?" he said, pulling himself up off the bed. "I'll be good. I _promise."_

The druid looked unconvinced by the statement but she only shook her head.

"Who is here?" Anna asked.

"Someone who may be able to help. Now, rest," Jaheira commanded. "We shall return soon."

Finn leaned back over Anna and gave her a rather wet kiss.

"Yeah. It'll be alright, love. I promise you that. Don't worry about a thing."

"But, Finn—"

_"Shh. _Don't worry."

His further attempt at comfort earned him an angry and bewildered stare, but if he noticed Anna couldn't tell. Finn pushed past Kivan into the hall and the elf silently followed. Khalid and Jaheira left with another command from the druid to rest, but Xan paused to gather up the book he had been reading. Anna made one last effort.

"Xan, please—what is going on?"

She reached out with her bandaged hand, laying it on the sleeve of his robe. He looked at her and sighed.

"Jaheira is right—you should rest. Or try, at least."

He gave her what might pass as a comforting look and hurried after the others, shutting the door quietly behind him. Anna stared at the door, trying somehow to comprehend what was happening to her. From outside the window came the noises of the docks but they seemed unable to penetrate the silence that had been left in the room. Nothing could enter that cold, empty silence.

A strange jerk went through her body—the cave, the cave, she was back in the cave. A sweat flashed over her skin but Anna forced herself from bed, struggled into her dress and followed the others downstairs.


	79. Comfortably Numb

The stairs seemed to move under her feet but somehow Anna made it to the bottom. The inn's common room didn't look much finer than the one they'd been in last night, but at least the straw on the floor was relatively fresh. She spotted her comrades huddled at a corner table and made her way over to them. Jaheira saw her first, and her reaction was predictable.

"What in Silvanus' name are you doing?" she exclaimed, rising to her feet. "You should not be up. You are mad as your husband."

Anna felt her iron grip on her arm as she wobbled before the table, but she didn't complain.

"Stubborn as, is more like," Finn remarked. "You've got a long way to go before you're mad as me. Come here, love."

He held out an arm and Anna collapsed into his lap, feeling somewhat thankful for his drunken chivalry. Her brow was sweating and her legs felt rubbery but Finn's arm steadied her. She looked around at the tight faces but her mouth opened in surprise regarding their company.

_"Ben?_ What are you doing here?"

The man in question smiled through his untrimmed red beard. He let out a deep laugh and spoke in that familiar Ruathym accent.

"I thought to ask the same of you, good Anna. I can't tell you how gratifying it was to see you caught up in the middle of a tavern brawl. Is this our delicate Beregost maid?"

Anna smiled in spite of everything. Ben Codax regularly played at the Blade and Stars, and though she didn't make a habit of consorting with bards his good humour and strange tales always seemed to lighten her visits to the city.

"He's the one that dragged you out of the pub," Finn said. "You'd have been trampled for sure otherwise. He said he knew you, helped me get a room at this inn."

"And I had to speak rather fast at that, considering your blade was at my throat," Ben remarked. "Though if I were lucky enough to have this lass as my wife I wouldn't blame you."

He raised his small cup of whiskey to her politely though Anna found it hard to imagine Ben longing for marriage.

"If you would carry on, please?" Jaheira said to him.

"Like I said, there's not much to tell," Ben replied. "Lothander and Marek both seem to have done a runner—nobody's seen a hair of their hides since last eve. The _Water Witch_ is still in dock, so Marek must be in the city at least. _Ha! _He must be ruing signing on to that one, all right."

He chuckled to himself and Anna drew a breath.

"Will someone _please _tell me what's going on? I can't take any more of this."

She touched her wounded hand; the bandage was already beginning to stain. Finn squeezed her closer and she felt his ale-tinged breath on her ear.

"This fellow Lothander has been tugging on my sleeve for days—said his brother needed my help. He must have heard about my reputation somewhere. I told him the only way I'd help was by reporting it to my captain, but he wasn't having any of it. Seems his brother Marek is in trouble with a priestess of Umberlee and he's as much afraid of the law as her. Finally this Lothander gets angry, starts making threats. I just put him down as a windbag though, never thought to pin the dagger on him. But when you got sick it all fell into place."

"A priestess of Umberlee?" Anna said. "He'd be right to worry. What did he want you to do?"

"Doesn't matter now—it's his own bloody problem. All I want is that antidote," he said grimly.

"But, he's gone."

Her voice fell. The value of the antidote came to her again but it still made no sense. She couldn't be _dying. _There had to be a mistake; she was sick, but she was still alive. Finn pulled her closer and her stomach ached.

"And his brother is a sailor, he could have brought that foul draught from anywhere," Jaheira said. "Finn said he had bragged of its potency. We'd have little chance of creating our own antidote."

Ben leaned forward over the table, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

"He might have done. But the tobacconist Lothander frequents said he bought some real piss-poor stuff a few days back, not like him at all. He said he was saving up for something. And me cousin Jeannie swears she saw him talking with that old ratcatcher Bertram as well. Went in and out of his shop a few times. Now, what's a longshoreman who lives in a rented room want with a ratcatcher? No rat worth his salt's going around Missus Havlen's place, not with the cats she has on patrol. She must have three for every boarder."

"You are saying the man has been acting suspiciously, I gather," Xan remarked, sounding rather wearied by the bard's roundabout tale.

"That is precisely what I am saying, good Master Elf," Ben announced. "You can learn a lot by just having a simple chat with folks."

Finn snorted. "Ever consider joining the Fist? We could use a hand like you. People turn deaf and dumb the minute we step in a room."

Ben raised his whiskey. "No offence to you, my man, but if I did half my family would never speak to me again!"

"Who is this r-ratcatcher?" Khalid spoke.

"Bertram—don't know if it's his first or family name, never got close enough to find out. Unpleasant fellow. Men take on the qualities of the things they chase, you know. They say he's a free hand with the arsenic to whoever asks him nice. Rumour says that's how Widow Fallenger earned her title, but that seems ungenerous to me. It was her cooking what done him in, no question of that!"

The bard laughed but no one at the table picked up on the joke.

"It's as good a lead as we have," Jaheira sighed. "And he certainly will be easier to deal with than a priestess of the Bitch Queen. Where might we find this ratcatcher?"

"He keeps rooms down on Water Street, across from the Champion Jack pub. Some fine cock fights there of the evening, if you fancy your chances."

"I am certain we do _not," _the druid hissed, suddenly becoming more animated. "But thank you for your time."

...

Ben looked a bit surprised but he gave her a nod.

"I reckon you'll be busy, sure enough. Don't worry, though. I've got all the docks looking for that pair and if they show I'll hear about it. But I should see about getting the kiddies some dinner—they'll be clamouring around any moment now, for fear they might starve. Take care of yourself there, lady."

He tipped back what was left of the whiskey and tried to give Anna a smile. A number of small red heads had been peering around the doorframe throughout the conversation, and Ben clucked to them like a mother hen.

"Are they all yours?" Finn remarked.

"With this hair? Couldn't be anything but!" Ben said. "Their mams work in the day so I look after 'em. Come on you lot, let's see what Auntie Poppy has cooking today. My money says it's fish!"

He laughed to himself with some joke. The children rallied around their father and the bard and his brood disappeared onto the street. Jaheira looked after them with a raised eyebrow, but she let out another sigh.

"I suggest we call in on this Bertram now, lest he conveniently disappear as well. But you Anna are going back to bed."

In her usual fashion the druid's statement left little room for debate, but Anna still shook her head.

"No. I want to come. I can't just lay in that bed, I can't."

"I understand," she replied. "I would feel the same. But you must know that any exertion will drive the poison through your system all the faster. It may be days before we track down this antidote, and even then—"

"I know how poisons work," Anna interrupted. "It's using my own blood against me. Each day it will grow stronger, eating away at my insides. But regular antidote can counter it for now. And I just...can't."

She broke off from her thoughts. She couldn't say that lying alone in that room would make her feel dead already.

"Maybe Jaheira's right," Finn said. "You look in a state. Let us do this."

Anna turned and looked at him; he looked as rough as she surely did.

"When was the last time you slept?" she asked.

"It's been awhile," he said grimly.

"Perhaps you b-both should retreat to the chamber," Khalid offered. "We will manage."

Anna gave Finn a questioning look. She could see the exhaustion in his eyes. The alcohol and lack of sleep played their part, but she saw something else there—fear. He was afraid, and she could feel it. She squeezed his hand and he gave her a little smile.

"Nope. We're both going. If Anna says she'll manage then that's good enough for me. Now, let's go find this bastard."

...

Jaheira did not seem pleased but there was little else she could say. Anna mentioned her cloak and Finn thankfully volunteered to fetch it, returning with the wool and a bag of antidote bottles that he must have brought from home. The group filed out onto the narrow street and Jaheira lead the way through the maze of carts and scuttleways. The light and noise made Anna's head hurt but she kept it to herself; by Finn's anxious looks she gathered he had second thoughts about her accompanying them. She tried to smile and he tried to smile back.

In spite of everything though Anna felt a kind of relief in the fact that their little group was together again. Through the months in Beregost she often thought of their travels together, of Jaheira's hard courage, Khalid's shy warmth, of Kivan's ever distant but somehow comforting presence. She watched them as they walked ahead of her and Finn, a strange group on that human street. A certain degree of closeness could only be expected considering what they'd gone though, but she felt something more than that.

Though there had been arguments and strained tension, she never realised how much they had come to seem like family even in the short time they'd known one another. Unlikely as it seemed, perhaps even Xan felt that when he gave her the rogue stone. Mere camaraderie didn't explain it—they almost seemed to belong together.

But they weren't all there, Anna thought; Imoen was far away in Candlekeep, and her own careless prodding had driven Ajantis away once more. She thought of them both, especially of Imoen who was now true family. How the girl was faring with Finn's decision to exile her to the monastery she had no way of knowing. Another thought passed through Anna's mind, and she wondered for one cold moment if she would ever see her again. She shivered and the thought vanished into the faded autumn sunshine.

...

Jaheira led them down another claustrophobic, run-down street. As per its name Water Street ran along the river on the city-side, and above the buildings the grey walls towered like a thundercloud. Discarded crab pots lined the pavements and Anna had to step around the mortal remains of fish that the local gulls and cats had left behind. The smell of fish and brown water filled the air and the breeze did little to help.

They found the Champion Jack easily enough but didn't disturb the drunk who lay sprawled out on its step, sleeping still and peaceful as a babe. Jaheira made enquiries with a peddler woman, who directed them to the rooms above a tinker's workshop. In a single file they made their way up the narrow outside steps. Jaheira rapped hard and a grey-bearded face peered out from behind the door.

"Are you Bertram?" the druid asked.

"Aye," the man replied, eyeing the group suspiciously. "What can I do you for?"

"We have a stubborn pest that needs dealing with, and we were told you might be the man to help."

She made no effort to conceal the double meaning in her tone, and the man opened the door somewhat wider.

"Well, that is my trade, after all," he said. "But who sent you here? You don't look local, pardon my saying."

Jaheira's lip twitched. "Oh, that doesn't matter. One talks with a good many folk in the pubs. But we heard you were a great help to one Widow Fallenger."

Bertram looked genuinely startled but he seemed to calm seeing that Jaheira was smiling at him.

"She had a rat, that's all. But you can come in if you please."

He drew open the door and ushered them inside. Anna's stomach had mellowed on the journey but it cried out again at the faint acrid smell in the air. The room was narrow and dark with the shutters closed, and uncomfortably warm from the fire in the grate. A variety of traps were stacked haphazardly in the corners and Anna started at movement in some of them. Bottles of varying shapes that she would prefer not to identify lined the shelves on the walls.

"Sorry there's only a couple of chairs," Bertram said, shutting the door well. "I live alone, you see."

"There's a surprise," Finn muttered, but he pulled out a chair and Anna thankfully sat down. The rest of the group remained standing.

"Can I offer you some wine?" the ratcatcher asked.

He reached for a bottle on the crowded shelves, but Jaheira shook her head in disgust.

"No, thank you."

"I'm not in the habit of poisoning my customers," Bertram remarked. "That's bad for business. But suit yourselves. Tell me, what sort of pest are we talking about here? Is it...large?"

"Pretty damn big, aye," Finn said. "And there's two of them."

Bertram nodded. "I see. I've yet to meet a pest I couldn't manage, but the larger the problem, the weightier the bill."

"Money is no concern," Xan spoke quietly.

"Maybe not for you, but most of the folks here might say otherwise," he remarked. "You've seen this neighbourhood."

"Indeed," Jaheira said. "But we would need to be certain your services would complete the job."

"Oh, they would. They would," the man said. "My services are effective and permanent, you have my word."

He chuckled slightly and Anna shuddered. She wanted to fly out at the man but instead bit her lip and wiped her brow.

"That is good to hear, but we could deal with this problem ourselves," Jaheira said, her voice taking on that odd tone again. "The true issue is one of...discretion. We would not want certain people to know that we had an issue with _pests."_

"It can be very bad for business," Bertram agreed. "Could ruin a man. Or a woman. But you have certainly come to the right place."

...

He set down his cup of wine on the table and excused himself to a room in the back. The ratcatcher returned with two small vials, and with surprisingly deft hands he measured out a small amount from one into the cup. He swirled it, then handed it with a smile to Jaheira.

"Here, drink. A toast to our deal."

The druid gave him a dark look and Bertram scoffed.

"I find it hard to do business with people who don't trust me."

"Is the simple exchange of gold not enough for you?" Kivan demanded.

"Gold is meaningless," Bertram replied. "Any man can have gold. But I need proof that you're entering into this deal in good faith. I'm sure you understand."

The elf gave him one of his cold stares but the ratcatcher seemed unshaken, returning the gaze with a sanguine look. At once Kivan reached forward and before anyone could speak he emptied the cup.

"Kivan—" Jaheira began, startled, but a smile spread over Bertram's face.

"Wonderful! I admire a man who can face the unknown without flinching—there is true strength. But now, watch the second act."

Bertram went to the pile of cage-traps and Anna pushed her chair back in disgust as he set one on the table. Inside was a large black rat, very much alive. The iron bars were worn where the animal had chewed them in a bid to earn his freedom, but his efforts had been in vain. It let out a squeak of fear as it thrashed around in the tiny prison.

"Easy, now," Bertram soothed.

He pulled a crust of bread from his jacket pocket and broke off a piece. Carefully he poured a drop from the first vial onto the bread, then followed with a drop from the second. He stuffed the bread through the bars and Anna watched as the starved animal ate greedily in spite of its fear. For a moment it calmed, snuffling on the cage floor for the tiniest remnants of its meal.

The creature's respite proved very brief. The rat's body began to twitch, contorting in agony like some bizarre dancer. Its squeaks of pain filled the room and Anna blocked her ears, unable to bear the noise. From the cages along the wall came echoing cries where its fellow-rats writhed in fear wondering what enemy could make their kin cry out in such a way. After what seemed a lifetime the rat's cries finally ceased.

...

They all stood stock-still, watching the cage, and even Jaheira looked too horrified to speak. Anna's stomach shuddered and she wiped her eyes. Bertram nodded in a satisfied manner.

"There you see. The greatest power in this world, the final leveller. So says the Mother of All Plagues. I used to be disgusted by my work until she found me. Now I see its beauty, its necessity. These rats here—we call them vermin, never giving a thought that they're only living out their lives. But what are we, if not vermin too? Look at these people here—they live in ways no self-respecting rat would ever dream. And if not for death, we'd overrun the world."

"You are a worshipper of Talona?" Xan spoke.

His voice had a strange tone, and if possible he looked at the man with even more disgust than he had throughout his demonstration. Bertram nodded.

"A balancer, that's all. The Lady of Poisons understands that need. But the afternoon is getting on, and I have other jobs to do. Let's talk business."

Jaheira started from her trance but before she could speak Xan interrupted her.

"Your only business is to provide us with the antidote to the poison you sold the rogue Lothander, foul creature."

Bertram stepped back, but an amused look spread over his face.

"He is your pest, I gather? Well, well—what a man writes in the wind will be returned to him. But I'm a fair man, and I keep my word. I sold him that poison and I wouldn't give the antidote to anyone else."

"Yeah?" Finn said. "Think again, you fucker, or you'll be going to your hag of a goddess sooner than later. That bastard poisoned my wife, and if she dies I'll cut you open and leave you to the rats. They deserve something back from you, I wager."

He drew his sword and advanced on the man, but Bertram still seemed remarkably calm.

"This lady here?" he said, looking at Anna. "I thought I saw a hint of the goddess' blessing around her lips. It's rather pretty, I think, like those ladies with consumption. But threaten all you want—the truth is, I don't have an antidote to give. That one wasn't of my own making. It's a Drow poison, and I never could work it out. Beyond my humble talents, they are."

"Then tell us where Lothander is hiding, if you value your worthless life," Jaheira said.

"How would I know that?" Bertram replied. "Our business is done."

_"Business?" _Xan spat. "Is that all it is to you? Have you no soul? This woman is dying by your hand, and you stand there and make casual remarks about her appearance as if you were a dressmaker. Your kind are a plague on this earth—you deserve no consideration. A poisoner is the lowest of beings."

Anna stared at the elf; his lips vibrated with emotion close to rage and his fist clutched hard on the grip of his blade. Her stomach clenched again and she grasped at the arms of the chair.

"I'm sorry you think so," Bertram replied. "It's nothing personal with this lady. But I don't have anything to give you. Take your revenge if you want, you will not stop the will of the goddess."

"You know nothing of revenge," Kivan growled. "But I do. And you will not be so reserved when you are screaming in pain, _uuvanimo. _I do not believe you know nothing of this man. Cowards flock together. Tell us where he is."

He gave that man the look that made bandits run in fear, but still he seemed unmoved.

"I don't know any elf-speak, but I'm telling you the truth," Bertram said calmly. "Lothander isn't a friend. He just came to me one night, like so many other people with problems. For a consideration I solved his problem. Then he left. That's all."

"You're a liar!" Finn shouted.

...

He lunged at the man and Anna's heart jumped, but he grabbed him with his free hand rather than the point of his sword. Finn slammed him into the wall hard enough that the bottles rocked on the shelves but that queer expression stayed on Bertram's face.

"You want to kill me, don't you?" he said. "And you'd be right to. Go ahead. I'm not afraid. But could you live with the consequences? Or maybe you're one of the brave, as well."

_"Finn," _Anna said.

She rose up shaking from the chair. Finn kept Bertram pressed against the wall, his gaze fixed on him with that awful expression. Bertram still smiled like a man at peace with the world. No one else moved, and even the rats went quiet. Suddenly Finn turned from the wall, throwing the ratcatcher down onto the floor with all his force. He grunted as the wind left him and writhed in pain like the rat, unable to pull his battered old frame up from the wood.

Anna felt sick again as Finn leaped on him. She saw the flash of his blade and shut her eyes, knowing all too well the gore that was about to follow. Her legs felt limp but a firm hand grabbed her shoulders and kept her on her feet. She opened her eyes to see Khalid, but they were drawn helplessly to the ratcatcher and Finn.

"These were meant for Lothander," he said. "But you'll serve them just as well."

Somehow she almost felt like laughing at the scene. Bertram squirmed helplessly under Finn's weight as he locked the man's wrists in irons.

"You're a coward!" Bertram groaned. "Weak, just like the rest of them."

Finn scowled. "I've got more blood on my hands than you'll ever know, mate. But I'll let the Flaming Fist do the dirty work this time. Don't worry—I'm sure you'll be meeting your goddess soon enough."

He rose up and wiped his brow. Finn's eyes met Anna's and he gave her a pained expression.

"Are you alright? Maybe you ought to sit down."

"I'm fine," she said weakly, though a small smile crept out just the same.

"You showed more restraint than I would, _mellonamin," _Kivan said. "This man does not deserve life."

"I'm not arguing," Finn replied. He gave Bertram a kick for good measure and the man released more breathless threats.

"We should search this place," Jaheira said. "There may be...something."

Her words trailed off and she ran her hands over her face. Xan said nothing but kept staring at the man with that same expression. It was beyond loathing, but Anna felt too tired to wonder about it much.

...

Finn said something and hurried from the room. The block of sunshine from the open door stabbed at Anna's eyes, waking her from her daze. She stumbled out after him and called his name on the stairs.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked again, climbing back up to her. "You don't look good. Maybe you should take another antidote."

Anna nodded, then shook her head. "I'll be fine. I should...ration them. But, where are you going?"

"Didn't you hear me? I'm off to find a patrol. They'll take that bastard down to base—who knows, they might get something from him there."

Anna felt relief wash over her with a cold sweat. She leaned against the banister and the rotted wood wobbled under her weight.

"Is that what you were doing last night?" she asked. "Trying to arrest Lothander?"

"Yeah," Finn said, and a strange look passed over his face. "Why, what did you think?"

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Nothing."

Her throat felt too raw to speak. Finn stepped up closer to her.

"Alright then," he said slowly. "You should go back inside. I won't be gone long."

"I think I'll sit here," she replied. "I need some air."

Finn nodded. He looked at her for a moment, then gave her a kiss. It lingered on her pained, cracked lips. He gave her a small smile, and Anna tried to smile back. She sat down hard on the steps and watched as he disappeared onto the street.


	80. Idle Tongues

Anna sat alone on the steps waiting for Finn to return. Her entire body felt strange, altering between hot and cold, heavy and light. Always that sick sensation simmered in her stomach and her hand burned like fire.

Had that poisoner been telling the truth about not having the antidote? Judging by Jaheira's mellow tones that were echoing inside his room he'd have to be a brave man not to surrender if he did. Anna herself expected nothing; cold as the man was, she saw no lie in Bertram's eyes. She heard voices in the street and the heavy boots of a Flaming Fist patrol mounted the stairs.

They did their best to drag the bound ratcatcher away, having to push though the small crowd that gathered out of curiosity. The people laughed and jeered and whispered amongst themselves but how many of them guessed the true reason for his arrest Anna didn't know. The man himself dropped his cool reserve and had taken to fighting like a caged animal, albeit one far past its prime. Bertram caused enough of a stir that one of the Flaming Fist commandeered a wagon from a passing mule-driver, who seemed anything but pleased at the unexpected cargo.

"You coming as well?" one of the mercenaries asked Finn once they'd managed to contain the prisoner.

Finn's mouth narrowed. "No, not now. Tell them I'll be along soon."

"You're a sight braver than me, Lieutenant," the mercenary whistled. "But we'll report in."

He clamoured into the back of the wagon and Anna looked at Finn.

"What does he mean?"

"It seems the captain's been looking for me," he replied matter-of-factly. "I sent a message into base last night telling him what happened, but he's not chuffed that I didn't report in. Don't worry, I'll get it sorted."

Anna just stared at him but Jaheira spoke her thoughts.

"And you're surprised? A Flaming Fist commander is not one of your drinking mates, Finn. You can't brush him aside because you have something better to do. You should count yourself lucky they are not clapping you in chains as well."

Finn's face grew darker from her tone and his shoulders hunched.

"I know my captain, ta. And I haven't exactly brushed him off to go fishing here. I know what I'm doing."

"Then you would be the only one," the druid said coolly. "Have you decided whether this was an official arrest? You are not even in uniform."

The wagon clattered away and Finn suddenly whirled on Jaheira.

"What the hells, woman? Don't start telling me how to do my work. I can't please you for nothing, can I? If you don't want to be involved, then go. But I'll be damned if I'm going to listen to any more of your constant bitching. I've had enough, and this stops right here."

He glared at her and Jaheira stepped back a pace, but her eyes looked like two chips of ice.

"Then truly, I ask your forgiveness," she said. "I apologise for implying that single-handedly attempting to arrest a man in a tavern full of criminals was not a wise endeavour. Or that leaving Anna alone at an inn with a strange man whilst she lay next to death was not well-advised. And may Silvanus help me, I am sorry for suggesting that spending the entire morning _drunk _while the rest of us struggled to save her was inappropriate!"

The statement seemed to cut through the muddy air of the docks like a razor. Finn's expression changed to a look Anna couldn't identify. For one horrible moment she feared he might actually strike her. Khalid apparently thought the same for he quickly stepped in between Finn and his wife.

"N-no more of this," he said. "N-no more."

Though delivered in his quiet stutter the words were still strong, and the spell that gripped the pair broke. Anna's tension washed over her and she needed to wipe her brow. She noticed that a few curious docks residents were still hanging about, offering their verdicts on the scene in no reserved voices.

_"Ooh-wee! Someone's in trouble with the missus!"_

_"Oh, aye. The frying pan's coming out, all right. Come on lad, get her over your knee and be done with it. Get your bets on, folks!"_

A burst of laughter broke from the crowd. Anna stared at them; her misery was nothing but a bit of afternoon fun for them. If she had any strength she felt like screaming at them to mind their own business. She clenched her handkerchief tight but Xan spoke.

"Khalid is right—this grows tiresome. There is nothing of interest here, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing worth seeing at all."

She looked at him in surprise before realising his words were not for them. Slowly the gawkers wandered back to their taverns or shops, and Xan rubbed his eyes.

"Bread and circuses," he sighed. "Not that we could not be called guilty of providing ample entertainment. May I suggest we plan our next move, if such things are allowed today?"

"If that creature had the antidote in his possession, he hid it well," Kivan remarked. "And sampling each bottle in search of it would not be wise."

The elf rested his chin against his bow thoughtfully, gazing down the dirty street with those dark eyes. As if in an effort to restore some of her pride Jaheira turned to him.

"No, but you seem to have made a start. I cannot believe you drank the wine he offered—the gods only know what that cup might have contained."

Kivan's face didn't move. "Why should I fear? The worst he could have offered was death. He could do nothing to harm me."

Anna shook slightly; she had a rather different perspective. Jaheira seemed surprised as well but she said nothing.

"Well, our only other shot is this priestess," Finn said. "The temple's not far from here. I think we'll be all right to walk it."

He glanced at Anna and ran his hands through his haphazard hair, looking like a man stretched out on a rack but determined not to cry out. She wondered how long that determination would last.

...

They set off towards the Temple of Umberlee. Finn and Anna trailed somewhat behind the others as they made their way through the crowded streets. He stayed close by her, quick to move aside any who might jostle her as they passed. His height and the sword on his belt meant that his commands usually went heeded but Anna thought he need not have bothered. She felt lighter as they walked along, her feet barely touching the grubby cobblestones. The bustle seemed to slow around them and she took some interest in watching people on the street.

Several children stood on the quayside catching crabs by hooks lowered on a string. They dipped hooks baited with fish into the water and almost instantly a new victim appeared on the line. The stubborn crabs refused to let go of their prize even when hoisted from the water, instead flailing their free claw at the giants who had plucked them from their home in a pathetic gesture of defiance. If only they would let go they could drop to safety, but no. They valued their meal more than their lives. The children yanked the crabs from the hook and dropped them with a laugh into a bucket.

Anna's eyes turned from the children to an old tramp lying in a doorframe. His cap was set on the step for alms but he seemed too far gone to even pay it much heed. He spoke with himself, smiling and laughing at his own replies. His body was so covered in filth that it was hard to distinguish where his rags ended and his skin began, but no man ever seemed more pleased at a conversation than him. Somehow he reminded her of the mad Bassilus. Where were his demons? No one on the street paid the tramp any mind, but he glanced at Anna as she past with some animal's instinct of being observed. He smiled but she knew it wasn't for her.

The sharp cries of a fishwife averted her eyes again. The woman sought to empty her baskets of fish before the afternoon sun made them suitable for nothing but bait. She splashed water over their dead, dry scales in an attempt to make them seem more fresh. The stench though told its tale and she had few takers.

Watching her Anna suddenly remembered the slave woman in Cloakwood. She'd entirely forgotten about that poor woman, and the promise she made. Her sister was a fishwife in the docks, she said—was that her? A boy and a girl played happily around the baskets, utterly immune to the awful smell and sights of the lacquer-eyed fish. Were they her children? _Tell my babies their Mama's alive. _But she wasn't alive. She was dead.

_"Anna! Are you all right?"_

The sound of Finn's voice shook through her reverie. Anna turned to tell him she was fine, but something was wrong. She wasn't moving. The sun shone in her eyes and somehow she realised she was curled up on the street.

_"Finn—"_

"It's alright," he replied, crouching over her. "Just lie still for a minute."

Over his shoulder she could see the others hurrying towards them, summoned by Finn's cry. He laid a hand on her brow and shut his eyes. Anna let out a pained moan as her stomach churned but her head seemed to clear. She lay still though, her stomach too suspect to move. Unfortunately her collapse gathered more attention and the passing people regarded them with curiosity.

_"Lookee there, she's had a belly full and the sun barely past its peak. Shameful, that is."_

_"Ah, he's just wetted her to get the price down. But in that shape he'll have to carry her back to his room."_

Finn swore something at the man and he made a smooth retreat, but the comments kept coming.

_"I recognise that fellow—ain't he in the Fist? Probably taking her in."_

_"He'd best keep well back and all—that girl looks like she's got the plague."_

"Then perhaps you should not be standing here?" Jaheira barked at him, and the commentators moved on. "Silvanus, this is absurd. Finn, take her back to the inn at once."

He apparently agreed with her enough to ignore the fact that the druid had issued yet another order. Anna sat up, clutching at her stomach.

"I'll be alright," she rasped. "Can you just—give me an antidote?"

"Maybe she's right," Finn replied, handing her the requested bottle. "There's no need for you to come."

The others hovered around her, offering opinions that she didn't really hear. She seemed to be shrinking on the street. All around her the air buzzed and whirled making her feel like she was in the middle of a beehive. She needed to make it stop. It needed to stop.

"I'm _fine," _she spoke loudly, in a voice that didn't seem like hers. She struggled on to her knees and Finn helped her up. "I'm fine. The antidote helped."

"Anna—" Jaheira began.

"I'm fine."

She spoke quietly enough that Anna wasn't sure if she'd actually spoken or not. Her silent plea moved them on though and they set again towards the temple.

...

The Temple of the Depths sat on its own on the riverbank, a remarkable feat in the docks where every last inch of space seemed occupied by inhabitants of some sort. No fine gardens in that part of town. It was built of wood but glittered like a pearl in the sun; craftsmen had inlaid the outer walls in an endless mosaic of shells and their rainbow colours reflected dazzling bright.

It was beautiful and garish but the bright colours couldn't hide the dark aura surrounding the place. Umberlee—The Bitch Queen, scourge of the sea. The goddess who delighted in dragging sailors to their death, who only spared their lives if they appealed enough to her vanity. A pair of seamen entered the temple doors furtively, ready to pay homage in a place that must have looked suspiciously like a trap. Anna wondered what the man Marek might have done to incur the wrath of her priestess, but with that goddess no slight was too small to be overlooked.

The group followed the sailors inside and Anna's eyes had to adjust to the light—after nearly being blinded by the temple walls the interior lit by a few ship's lanterns seemed dark as night. The air was damp and smelled strongly of seawater despite overlooking the fresh River Chionthar. Looking around Anna noticed a number of decorative pools filled with corals and creatures of the deep, although even that could not entirely explain the smell.

The sailors made haste to the altar but Jaheira went quickly to a priestess.

"Hail, servant of the Bitch Queen," she said in what seemed like an effort of politeness. "We wish to speak with the high priestess."

"Indeed?" the woman said, giving her a crooked smile. "Priestess Jalantha does not cater to the common folk. If you wish to speak with her, you must prove your worth."

She held out a hand, clearly expecting some sort of tribute. Jaheira's expression though remained stony.

"We have come to speak about Marek. I should think that would be tribute enough."

The woman's eyes widened slightly and she looked genuinely amused.

"Ah, yes. The high priestess is always interested in news of her prey. Come this way."

The woman led them around the pools, past the sailors bent on their knees. Both were strapping men but they looked up in alarm as the slight priestess passed them by. She only smiled at them though, which seemed to make them more uncomfortable. The priestess directed them out from the main temple into a series of rooms in the back.

"Wait here," she commanded. "I will see if Priestess Jalantha will entertain your presence."

"Entertain. Bloody hells," Finn muttered as she left the room. "You all right, love?"

"Yes, fine," Anna replied.

There wasn't much else she could say. The antidote seemed to have calmed her symptoms but they all now ran together, swirling inside her like a current. After a few interminable minutes the priestess returned.

"The high priestess will see you. But I will warn you—she does not suffer fools. Keep a polite tongue in your heads."

"Neither do we, flower," Finn said flatly. "Just point the way."

The priestess' eyebrow raised but she granted him another smile, perhaps anticipating some excitement to break up her afternoon. She led them to a pair of double doors and ushered them into a heavy chamber. 'Heavy' was the only word Anna could think of; the walls were heavy with carved teak and woven hangings that had no mate in colour or style. They seemed the product of every port city in Faerun. The air was damp and in the centre of the room was another sea-pool which glowed with the aquamarine light of the deep.

"My priestess tells me you have news of Marek," a woman said, rising from her chair. "I do hope you are not wasting my time."

The high priestess dismissed the other woman and stepped into the light of the pool. She seemed to Anna's eyes like a siren that had half-finished dressing. Long brown ringlets draped her face, which was beautiful despite the fact that the flower of her youth was a memory. Her gown was covered in bits of flotsam; shells, shark teeth and other trinkets of the deep decorated the dress, which was cut to resemble a cresting wave. With a bit of seaweed added she might have been found washed up on a beach.

"It's not news as such," Finn said. "Marek and his brother have gone missing and we need to find them. They've poisoned my wife."

"Truly? I wouldn't have thought them capable of such an act of boldness," she scoffed. "But that does not bring me my prey. If you need healing, however, the Bitch Queen may extend her powers—in return for tribute, of course."

"It is not an ordinary poison," Jaheira said. "We are quite capable of curing such things ourselves. This one requires a unique antidote, and without it this woman will surely die."

The priestess smiled. "Ah, yes. You are a follower of Silvanus, are you not? I recognised the leaf talisman and unruly hair. But the forests only live by the grace of Umberlee, lest she rise up and devour them."

The druid jerked but forced herself to let the insult go.

"We are not interested in discussing dogma just now. We need to find Marek and Lothander, and I gather you have an interest in this as well. We had hoped we could be of mutual benefit."

"And what benefit would you be to me?" the priestess replied, her grin fading. "I allowed that fool to run. The Bitch Queen let him sail her seas, ignorant, knowing full well the winds would return him to the clutches of her servant. But now he feels the curse I placed on him, and so desperate he is that he resorts to poisoning a strange woman. I could find him whenever I wish, that is not my game. I wanted that fool to _suffer."_

She hissed the final word and the water of the pool boiled for a moment, stirred by the creatures who clung to their mistress' every word. A look of puzzled anger washed over Finn's face.

"Then why don't you? My wife's dying because of your bloody feud. And I don't think you need reminding that curses aren't exactly legal, either. The Dukes tend to frown on the use of dark magics for personal ends—"

"Do you honestly think to come here and threaten me with the _law?" _Jalantha interrupted. "I think not. The code of Umberlee is the only true law."

She stepped forward and Finn's expression turned even more unpleasant, but Xan spoke up.

"And is it right that this woman should suffer as well? Find this Marek or free him from his curse, we only ask you that."

"Is that all?" the priestess scoffed. "But I am not an unreasonable woman. Perhaps it is time to pull this fish from the line. After all, our time is growing short. I shall find him for you, but you will carry a message for me. Tell him that my terms have not changed. It is his choice how he will pay, but the bill is now due. I trust you can remember that?"

"We'll do just fine, I'm sure," Finn said. "But I'm not sure how much you're going to get out of him."

The priestess smiled again. "All I ask is all he has, nothing more. Now step back from the pool and hold your tongues while I commune with the goddess."

...

There was nothing else for them to do, so they did as requested. Finn stood next to Anna and she was glad to have him there. The high priestess stood over the pool, her voice harsh with words Anna didn't know. They hardly seemed like words at all, more like the breaking of waves over the rocks. The pool understood her meaning though. The surface darkened like a storm cloud washing over the sea. Small breakers began to form, creating a perfect illusion of regarding the ocean from the distant cliffs.

Jalantha opened a locket on her neck and pulled something out; in the darkness it was difficult to see but Anna perceived it was a lock of hair. She tossed it into the pool and it writhed even more, sending its water spilling out over the edge and onto the floor. The surging waves made Anna ill and she had to turn her head. The priestess stared intently into the pool for a few moments, then somehow the tempest began to calm.

"In the city...there...he is hiding...I can see him through a mop bucket," Jalantha said, her voice a strange monotone. "An inn..._oh, _such a fool!"

Suddenly she burst out laughing, but the sound of it ran chills down Anna's spine. She turned back to them with a delighted look on her face.

"Such a strange thing is destiny. You will find your quarry hiding at the Blushing Mermaid, in the north-eastern part of town."

Jalantha laughed again, delighted at her own joke. The others seemed less amused.

"The Blushing Mermaid?" Finn said. "I think I've passed by there before. It looks like a proper rat-hole."

"Then very appropriate it is," Jaheira replied. "I'm surprised you haven't heard more with your new occupation. It is a gambling hall, amongst other things, and one generally populated by those who have been barred from elsewhere. We shall have to be on our guard."

"I don't know everything about this town," Finn said, rubbing his chin. "But I do know I don't want this bastard doing a runner again. We'd better make tracks and get him in irons."

"Capture him however you wish," Jalantha said. "But when you find him, be certain to bring him to me. I should think he will find that prospect more frightening than a stay in the city cells."

She smirked again and Anna finally spoke.

"What has he done to you, that you chase him like this?"

The priestess looked at her. "He has done nothing to _me_. Ask him, should you find him. I'm sure the problem will be very much on his mind. Now go, and do not come back empty-handed."

Anna had no energy to parse out her words. They drifted out of the temple, out into the harsh sunlight. The Blushing Mermaid seemed like a thousand miles away but she tried to keep her footsteps firm. Even she knew that she should retreat to the inn but no one made the suggestion. She wiped the sweat from her brow and did her best to keep up with the others, though they walked at a leisurely pace through the bustling docks.

But she didn't want to admit even to herself the true reason she stayed on her feet. Anna was tired of feeling weak. For all the power she should hold as a mage it always seemed to be her getting hurt, het getting lost, her being rescued. Imoen had never been ashamed to admit her inexperience but Anna had too much pride. And now, though she'd done nothing wrong, Anna felt ashamed.

...

Her legs were jelly by the time they reached the tavern, and her stomach felt even worse. Discretely she swallowed two bottles of antidote on the journey; two more bottles just to keep her on her feet.

The Blushing Mermaid was situated in a crowded corner of the city not far from where the Harpers' safehouse lay, but the neighbourhood there seemed to lack even that honesty of the labouring poor. Separated from the enterprise of the docks it truly was a haven for those with no other welcoming place.

Flaming Fist patrols were nowhere to be seen. Groups of rough-looking youths prowled the streets in their absence, shouting out drunken insults and comments to any man or woman whose appearance didn't please. None dared to challenge the ruffians and they laughed like petty tyrants over their subjects. Fortunately the armed band escaped their tongues if not their glares; men such as that were usually cowards first and foremost.

Street women plied their trade openly but everyone else just seemed to be in a hurry to get wherever they were going, and kept their eyes on the cobblestones. The windows of abandoned houses were covered in boards like blackened eyes, and voices and the cries of children echoed inside some of them. The whole place had an air of menace, a sour feeling that echoed in Anna's stomach.

The Blushing Mermaid seemed to fit in well with its surroundings. It was a ramshackle, two storey building whose glass windows were a long-forgotten memory. Wooden shutters provided some privacy and coils of smoke curled out from a few of them.

The common room was wide however and Anna realised finding Marek there might be a challenge. A number of gaming tables were set up around the room, surrounded by men who made whatever living they had at the cards and dice. They didn't look much like the sort who answered questions. Anna wondered about the bartender, but Finn reached out and stopped one of the haggard barmaids.

"Hello, lovely. We're looking for our mate, Marek. He's a sailor lad. You seen him lately?"

His attempt at charm didn't appear to impress, and the woman shifted her tray of dirty tankards from one hand to another.

"Half them in here are sailors. And if he's yer mate then you ought to find him well enough without me, lover. But I don't care—the man's a proper tight bastard, and for this place that's saying sommat. He's got a room here upstairs, fourth door on the left. Mind you don't start trouble though, or the landlord will have you."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Cheers," Finn replied, laying a coin on the still-unimpressed barmaid's tray.

They tromped single-file up the groaning staircase. Anna grew more nervous, but strangely somehow relieved. Perhaps Marek might have the antidote and she could be cleansed even there. Experience however told her not to be too optimistic.

...

Finn pounded on the door with a knock designed to break it off its hinges. Anna heard a muttering curse within and a man's voice shouted through the frame.

"Piss off! I'm paid up for another two days."

A dark look passed over Finn's face and he raised his fist again but Anna stopped him. Quietly she spoke words, directing them towards the lock. The magic did its work and the bolt clicked, sliding the door open a crack. Finn stepped inside and the others crowded in after him.

Immediately though Anna had to turn her eyes down with a groan. A unclothed man and woman lay on the bed, tangled together in an intimate embrace. The woman exclaimed something and the man swore again.

"What the bloody hells is this?" he demanded.

"Are you Marek?" Finn said.

"What's it to you?" the man spat back.

"I'll take that for a yes," Finn remarked. "We're here for a little chat about you and your brother. Why don't you go downstairs, flower?" he said to the woman.

She scrambled back into her dress, giving the intruders a sour look.

"I'd be glad to, but he hasn't paid yet. I've got a kid to feed, you know."

"Paid?" Marek exclaimed. "Paid for what? You've not done a damn thing! Go on, get out of here."

The woman shot back something about a dead fish, but gathered her shoes and pushed past them with her head held high. Kivan shut the door behind her, leaving the six of them alone with the man. Marek drew the blanket over his bareness but regarded them all with a defiant look. He was a coarse-looking, muscular man, much like any sailor, but given another life he might have been handsome. He moved his hand and Anna caught a flash of steel slipping beneath the covers.

"Sorry to interrupt your fun," Finn said dryly. "You must be quite the fellow if you need to hire them."

The comment seemed to take Marek off guard and he responded with another foul burst.

"I'm all man here, lad. But in my line of work we don't have much time for wooing. You saying I'm not a man?"

"That woman seemed to think so," Finn quipped. "Why, are you having troubles? Your bits not working right?"

Anna threw Finn a look. What sort of game was he playing? This was hardly the time for manly posturing. The accusation seemed to strike home, however, for Marek let out another curse.

"It isn't my fecking fault! This priestess bitch cursed me—but hang about. How the hells did you know that? Who are you lot?"

"Your brother was right, you really are thick. But I don't care about your troubles. All I want is that antidote," Finn said.

Marek did take notice then and leaped to his feet, fortunately bringing the blanket with him.

"I haven't got it," he said quickly. "It was all Lothander's doing. Always thought he was so clever, him. He thought it would be a grand idea to rope in some adventurer to bully the priestess. But I didn't know you was in the blamed Flaming Fist! He never told me that. Now we're screwed three different ways."

"Well I hope you're enjoying it, as it's the only action you'll be getting anytime soon," Finn remarked. "We talked with Jalantha. Her magic sussed you out. She's a powerful one, all right. But if you give us the antidote maybe we could talk her down a bit."

Marek's face went white at the mention of the priestess' name but he shook his head.

"Sorry, mate. Nothing doing. _She_ ain't one to back down. You know what kind of curse she put on me. You're a man, have some pity! I've heard of you lot, all the things you've done. You could scare her proper good. We can all walk away happy."

His appeal at brotherhood fell on deaf ears, and Finn's face took on that look again.

"You think I've got any pity for _you? _My wife is _dying_ because of you. You've got one option here. Find your brother and get me that antidote. Otherwise the priestess is going to be the least of your worries."

Finn laid his hand on his sword and his expression didn't leave much doubt as to what he meant.

"Your wife is sick?" Marek replied, looking puzzled. "How's that?"

"How's that? How's _that?" _Finn growled back. "She's sick because you left a poisoned dagger in our bed, you bastard!"

The sailor stood back in alarm, still shaking his head.

"Oh, hells. That bloody twat. It weren't us, you see—this mate of mine, Pinky, he used to do a bit of purse-cutting as a lad. Lothander just thought to put the poison in your dinner, see, but Pinky gets this idea to stick you in the crowd. It'd be all dramatic, like. Sounded good in the tavern. But I reckon he turned coward. He said he had it done, he said no worries. Ah, bloody hells!"

Anna stared at the man in disbelief. Finn looked like he might crack but Jaheira spoke up.

"Then what exactly did you expect of Finn, if he had been the subject of the poison? Anna can barely stand! You would certainly have no grand battles with a priestess on your hands."

Marek though just shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Don't know, love. Reckon it packed more of a punch than Lothander figured. I told him that fellow was crooked. Hey, there's a thought—you been to see him what sold it to us? Bertram's his name, real shady geezer."

"Yeah, and he's already in the lock-up," Finn said, clearly trying not to burst. "He'll have a date with the gallows soon. And I think you're about to follow him."

Marek didn't think much of that. The blanket slipped down and the hidden dagger made an appearance.

"Oh, no. My neck's not going to be in a noose over this! If I've got to fight the lot of you I will. I've got mates downstairs, a lot of them. I'm not going down."

"Then surrender your brother, that you might find the authorities of this city more merciful," Xan said. "If you have that sort of fortune."

"He's only me half-brother," Marek said, trying to put some distance between them. "Ma was a bit of a whore, rest her soul. But he looked after me when I was a kid. Look—I'll take you to him but you gotta promise, no law. He were only trying to help me out. This all just got...a bit out of hand, you know? I'm sorry about yer wife. We didn't really mean no harm. But no law, alright?"

"But why don't you just go back to the priestess?" Anna said. "What is all this even about?"

Finn made a noise in his throat but said nothing. An odd look passed over Marek's face, half cheeky and half apologetic.

"Well, you see—that priestess has got herself a daughter. Mind you, I never knew that at the time. I thought she were a bit older than she is, you know. It ain't my fault she wears all that paint! So, _ah_, I met her in a tavern, see, and—"

_"What?" _Anna said, interrupting him.

"I reckon they think I left a little something behind me, if you know what I'm saying," Marek continued. "But how do I even know if that kid's mine? That girl sure as hells weren't no maiden! You know what I'm saying, aye?"

...

He laughed but the humour missed the others. Anna's stomach suddenly turned. She could feel all their breath in the tiny room. Without a word to anyone she pushed her way out of the chamber, moving as fast as her shaking legs would allow. She burst out of the inn and found her way into an alley. All her sickness spilled out onto the broken, dirty cobblestones, and the sight of it made her sick again. She threw herself down onto her knees, her stomach shaking with her sobs.

Anna felt a warm hand on her shoulder and turned to see Finn. She wiped the sickness from her mouth with her handkerchief, and the wetness from her eyes with her sleeve.

_"This?" _she croaked. "This is why I'm dying? For _this?"_

The words burned like the poison, but she couldn't deny them anymore. It all seemed like a pathetic joke. All they'd been through, all the enemies they'd defeated, and it came down to _this_. One lecherous sailor, a loose girl and an angry mother. Finn grabbed a hold of her, pulling her tight in his arms.

"I know, I know. That's why I didn't want to tell you. I could have killed that bastard right there. But we'll find Lothander, don't worry. Marek is scared shitless now, scared for his neck. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry?" Anna sobbed.

"And how do you think I feel?" Finn replied. She looked up at him and saw that his own eyes were red. "Somebody's hurt you again, just to get to me. I'd sooner be dead than—but don't worry. We'll find him. We will."

Anna didn't reply; her stomach was shaking too hard. Finn laid a kiss on her hair, and she buried her face in his chest and sobbed.


	81. For Life

_What's that they say? You wait ages for an update and two come along at once? This storyline seemed too long for one chapter so I split it up. _

_..._

She stayed in his arms till she could cry no more. Finn said nothing, just holding her close. Perhaps he knew there weren't any words to give. Through her tears Anna saw the others peering into the alley but they stayed away.

But she knew the business needed dealing with so she wiped her eyes and forced herself to her feet. Marek stood with the others, dressed at last and shifting uncomfortably at the sight of her.

"She all right?" he asked Finn.

"What the hells do you care?" came the terse response. Marek's jaw clenched and he said nothing.

"If we are ready, then," Jaheira said. "Take us to your brother."

The sailor nodded and led the group down the street. Lothander was holed up with his 'old lady', Marek claimed, a cleaning woman who lived with her sister in a slightly more reputable neighbourhood. They made their way through the twisting, narrow alleys, past peddler's carts and ragged children, up to a narrow house overlooking a side-street. Marek banged on the door and a woman's face appeared behind the crack. She opened it slightly wider when she saw who was knocking.

"Ey up, Deela. He in?" Marek asked.

"Aye," the woman replied. "Lazy sod's not been out of bed all day. Rosie's gone out already, up cleaning in the Dragon today."

"Just as well," Marek said. "Brought a few friends around to see him."

_"Friends," _Deela stated, eyeing the company suspiciously. "You lot and your bloody friends. I tell you, one more bit of crockery gets smashed and he'll be out of here. I'm not having any more of it. We're a decent house, here."

"Don't worry love, they're not here for cards," the sailor replied. "But ye might want to keep the kids down here, just the same."

The woman responded with a mild profanity but she let them into the house. The small kitchen was hot and smelled of cabbage from a bubbling kettle. A number of children sat around a table and they looked up in curiosity as the strangers entered. Surprisingly the table was littered with bits of coloured rags—red, green, blue and even a cheerful yellow lay in piles before them. Their little hands were making flowers out of the scraps, sewing them around and around in thread.

"Right now, luvvies, you've seen strangers before. Back to work," the woman said to them, though her voice was kind.

She sat down at the table but Marek ruffled up a couple of the lads' hair.

"Ah, Deelie, why not let 'em out to play for a bit? They'll get all hunched sat in here."

"They can play when the work's done," she replied, throwing him a look from over a scrap of rag. "Somebody's got to feed you and your friends. Now go on and roust that lie-abed."

Marek snorted but he led them to the narrow staircase in back.

"Deelie never can stand to see a man having a good time, and she don't think much of us, for sure," he explained, though none of them truly cared. "That's why me brother lives in lodgings 'stead of here with his woman. Right now, let's get this lad up."

Marek pounded again on a door at the top of the stairs, and Anna's heart raced once more. She heard a groan and a faint noise in the room.

"What is it?" a man's groggy voice said.

"It's me, lad," Marek called back.

Anna heard a swift curse and the sound of feet hitting the floor. The door opened and a half-dressed man appeared.

"What the hells? I told you not to come out in the day—oh, _shite."_

_..._

There was a scramble as Finn pushed into the room. He grabbed hold of Lothander by his tunic collar, driving him down onto the bed. Marek shouted out but Kivan and Khalid held him back.

"Feck's sake, I told you not—" he swore, but his cries went unheard.

"I'm only saying this once—antidote. Where is it?" Finn demanded.

His face was inches from the terrified Lothander's. The man struggled and swore but Finn held him tight.

_"Alright, alright," _Lothander cried out. "It's in the dresser there. Just let me go, alright?"

He nodded his head at a small bedside table. Finn released him and jerked open the drawer. He fished around in the refuse for a moment and Anna's heart leaped for joy as he pulled out a small blue vial.

"That's it," Lothander gasped, sitting up on the bed. "Look, just—take it and get out of here, right? I don't want any trouble with the woman."

He seemed a good deal older than his brother, nearing to a rough middle age. His face bore the signs of a lifetime of too much ale and poor food, and faded tattoos covered his wrists. Unremarkable, a man one could find in any tavern in the city. But Anna couldn't help but think that this was the man who'd come near to killing her.

"You're not going to need to worry about your woman anymore," Finn scowled. "You and your brother are both coming with us."

_"What?"_ Marek exclaimed. "You double-crossing shite! I was just trying to help! We're not—"

He struggled harder and Kivan and Khalid needed to brace with all their strength against him. Suddenly a sharp voice echoed in the hall.

"What in Ilmater's name? What's going on up here?"

Anna looked to see Deela forcing her way into the room, staring at the scene with a mixture of anger and panic.

"It's all right, lady," Finn said. "I'm with the Flaming Fist."

His attempt at soothing her worries though had the opposite effect.

"You're Flaming Fist? You brought the law in here, Marek? What the hells has he done?" the woman demanded. "That's it. I've bloody had enough! You're both out of here, and I don't give a damn what Rosie thinks. I'm not having my kids—"

"Oh, save it for the bloody temple, you righteous wench!" Lothander shouted back.

He reached down under the bed, and Deela screamed as he pulled out a dagger. Marek followed his brother's bid for freedom and began fighting like a wild animal, using all his sailor's strength. His arm broke free and his fist found Kivan's jaw. The elf fell back against a wardrobe with a grunt but he recovered quickly. Lothander barrelled past Finn and the room descended into chaos.

But Anna's eyes focused on only one thing. Finn still held the little vial in his grasp, its glass shining cobalt in the light. He tried to stop Lothander with his off-hand but the man knocked into him. Anna's heart froze as the bottle clattered down to the floor.

It rolled away helplessly, trying hard to make it under the bed and to safety. In the struggle Finn's boot found the vial, and it smashed like crystal under his weight. He didn't notice at first, but his eyes looked down. A sickening expression washed over his face as he watched the vital liquid seeping away into the floorboards.

_"No!"_

The word was all Anna heard. She collapsed down onto the floor as if she'd been struck. She stared at the sapphire glass shards as they glittered, mocking her viciously in silent tones. Everything else seemed to stop. Nothing mattered anymore.

At least until she heard that scream. A high-pitched, horrified scream pierced the room, shaking her out of her reverie. Anna looked up to see Jaheira trying to contain the shrieking Deela, who kept her face half-buried in her hands. She turned to see what so horrified the woman, and she saw blood.

Lothander was lying on the bed, surrounded by a quickly-growing stain of red. His own dagger was buried to the hilt in his chest. Finn stood over him, with a face that spoke only of death. A sickening heat washed over Anna and she fainted dead to the floor.

...

Very slowly she opened her eyes. All around her were cold stone walls, lit only by lamplight. So she was in a tomb. She was dead, and they'd buried her. But that familiar sickness churned in her stomach and she knew she must still be alive.

Where was she, though? Anna didn't recognise anything. It wasn't an inn, certainly. She lay alone in a single bed, and bar a chair and small table there was no other furniture in the room. There was no window, either, and a panic began to build. She remembered recent events and prayed they were only a fever dream.

Anna wanted to rise but lay in bed, too ill to move. She wasn't alone at least; the sounds of heavy boots and muffled voices passed outside the door but none entered. She lay there for how long she didn't know, just staring up at the ceiling. Eventually though the door opened and she looked in surprise at the figure who entered.

"Ajantis?" she said.

A slight smile escaped her parched lips, and the knight smiled in return.

"Yes. It is good to see you awake, my lady. You have been asleep for many hours."

He came and stood at the bedside, and she reached out a hand to him. Ajantis squeezed it tight in his strong grasp.

"How are you here?" she asked.

"Jaheira sent for me. She thought I might...wish to see you."

The knight's face fell, and Anna pulled her hand away.

"So there's nothing, then," she said hoarsely.

"We can pray," he replied. "There is always hope."

"But none for me."

Ajantis drew up the chair and sat by her side, taking her hand again.

"There is always hope," he repeated.

Anna smiled softly and squeezed his hand. But there was something else that needed to be said.

"Ajantis—I wanted to say how sorry I am. The other day...I never meant to..."

"Do not trouble yourself over that," he replied. "I have already forgotten it."

"Do you always need to be so kind?" she sighed.

A slight smile flickered over his face.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

She joined him in his quiet laughter. His eyes were bright but she could see the sadness there. Anna drew a breath.

"Where's Finn?" she asked.

"Speaking with his captain. There were things that needed to be ascertained."

"Is that where we are, then?"

Of course, that heavy building could only be the Flaming Fist compound. Ajantis nodded.

"Yes. You have been under the care of their best healers. There is little that should worry you."

Anna turned to him. "Do you really think that?"

Ajantis' mouth moved but he didn't reply.

"All that can be done, will be done," he said. "But for now...I know you are not a follower of Helm, my lady, but would you object if I said a prayer for you?"

"Of course not," Anna replied.

Ajantis took her hand again. The knight bowed his head and spoke quiet words to Helm, speaking in a litany she didn't know. The words spoke of duty, of service and sacrifice. They did not seem to fit somehow, suited more to a warrior who had fallen in battle. But she felt the warmth and power behind them, and they moved her.

...

The door opened again and Ajantis cut his blessing short. Anna sat up as Finn entered, dressed now in the livery of the Flaming Fist. His face was dark and heavy, seemingly drained of all emotion. A tall, grizzle-haired mercenary entered behind him and shut the door.

"I beg your pardon," Ajantis said, rising to his feet. "I shall take my leave."

"Don't trouble yourself, sir knight," the man said. "The official business is over. We just came to see the patient."

"What has happened?" Anna asked anxiously.

Seeing Finn's face troubled her even more than the pain in her stomach. He remained silent, his eyes focused on the floor. The man spoke again.

"That was quite a fracas you folks started, and given the nature of things we needed to make an enquiry. But after hearing testimony we're satisfied for now. The man Lothander was resisting arrest and sustained fatal injuries in his attempt to escape. And we have several statements that he was attempting murder and blackmail by use of illegal poisons. Lieutenant Finnigan's use of force was justified. However, given certain _irregularities _I'm sure the lieutenant will appreciate the value of keeping his nose clean from now on. The last thing we need right now is a scandal, Finnigan."

"Yes, Captain," Finn replied mechanically.

"I'll give you a few days off...for compassionate leave," the captain continued. "But you know what we discussed. We need you, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

The captain retreated and Finn managed a half-hearted salute. Ajantis also made a bow and moved towards the door.

"I shall leave you both for now. Take care, my lady."

He gave her a small smile and rested a hand on Finn's shoulder before he left. Finn didn't move, still looking down at the floor with that unreadable expression.

"Finn—" Anna began.

"It's my fault," he said suddenly. "Mine. I dropped the bottle, that bastard pushed me...I...I smashed it. It's my fault."

"It isn't..."

"The hells it isn't, Anna!"

He looked at her and she flinched. Neither of them moved, staring at each other from what seemed like a distance of eternity. At last though Anna held out her arms.

"Come to me..."

Finn didn't comply at first. But slowly he crawled into the narrow bed with her. She felt his living warmth as his arms wrapped tight around her, and he let out a choked sob.

"I've done it," he said. "It's me. I've killed you."

"Lothander poisoned me, not you."

"Does it matter?" Finn replied. "It's all me. It's _always _me."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Anna shot back, louder than she'd have liked. "You didn't poison me, and it's not your fault the vial was smashed. But, I...does it matter anymore?"

"It's the only thing that _does."_

They were silent. The room seemed so still it was truly like a tomb. Was this the only place they could have laid her? Anna couldn't bear that silence.

"What...what happened to Marek?" she asked.

"He's in the cells," Finn sighed. "Howling to anyone who'll listen that it was all his brother's idea. So much for family ties. If he's lucky he'll get three years hard labour. If not..."

"He did try to help us," Anna said.

"Only to save his own neck. If he were that bothered he wouldn't have done a runner. I'm not impressed," he said flatly.

"But what about the priestess?"

"Don't think it'll amount to much. No one's keen to tangle with a priestess of Umberlee without cause, and cursing one bloke facing a murder charge isn't likely to get her in chains. If she's smart she'll keep mum about the whole deal—don't think she'd like the Fist hanging around hers, no matter what she says."

"And where does that leave us, then?" Anna said quietly.

"Wherever you want," Finn said, a groan hiding in his voice.

"I don't want to be here," she said. "I can't...I can't stand this room."

"I know. It's awful. But we could go home...or an inn. Anywhere you like. There's nowhere..."

"What hour is it?" she asked, interrupting him.

"Late," was his reply.

"Have you slept?"

"No."

"Well, let's...sleep," she said.

_"Anna,"_ he said, his voice rising in pain.

"No, no..." she whispered. "Just...sleep."

She ran her hands through his hair and Finn laid his head on her chest. The room was still, and all she could hear was his breathing. So warm he was...it didn't seem right. Anna still didn't want to believe. But she knew it, and everyone around her must too.

Finn stayed awake for a long time but finally his exhaustion must have overtaken him. So strange it was to have that strong man curled up against her breast, almost childlike in the way he clung to her. She would never know that now, the warmth of her own child cuddled close. That dream was gone, too.

When she was quiet and still Anna didn't truly fear death. Pain she feared, the thought of turning into one of the many mangled corpses they'd left in their wake. But like all who lived from the land Anna knew intimately well the reality of existence; something must die that others could live. From the corn to beasts to men, all were born and all would fall. Out of death would come new life. That was the great cycle, the balance.

But what was her death for? There was no honour in it, and not even the comfort of having lived a full life. Only now she realised how empty she had been all those years. The priests spoke of the Mother's garden, where the souls of all her children gathered when their earthly work was done to bask in the rewards of their labours. Her mother must be there. And her grandparents, and relations that she had never known. But what comfort would that be with the man she loved left forever behind her?

More than anything now she wanted to live. She wanted them to be together, to caress Finn's wrinkled face when they grew old. She wanted to see their children playing, to watch them grow. She wanted every quarrel and reconciliation, every dull day and every exciting burst, all the little moments and silences and experiences that came from a life together. She wanted _life. _And now that it was slipping away from her she felt its cruelty more keenly than she could have every imagined. Silent tears ran down Anna's face and she clung to Finn in that dead room.

...

She must have slept, for when she opened her eyes Finn was standing next to her.

"Hey, love," he said, kissing her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

That was a hard question to answer. More than anything now she just felt tired.

"If you're feeling up to it, I thought we might go home," Finn said. "Or wherever—"

He broke off from his thoughts.

"Home is fine," she said. "But I don't know if I could walk..."

"Don't worry, I'll get a wagon. Can you...dress?"

Anna sat up and her stomach churned again. In alarm she realised that her injured hand was now completely numb, and she could barely move her fingers. The fingernails were taking on an ugly green tinge that didn't bode well.

"Don't worry," Finn repeated. "I'll get some help. Just...rest."

He kissed her again and hurried out of the room. _Rest. _She'd soon be doing little else. The door opened and Anna expected to see a healer, but surprisingly Jaheira appeared.

"Are you here?" Anna rasped.

"Yes, we all are," the druid replied. "Where else would we be?"

"I just thought...with Finn..."

Jaheira pursed her lips.

"He was angry. And I cannot say I would blame him this time."

Slowly she helped the mage into her dress. Anna watched as she did up the laces, her mouth a fine line.

"Jaheira...please, look after him. I know he's hurting, and I—"

She didn't want to say that she feared for him. Lothander was dead. Finn had killed him. Had there been no other way? His captain seemed to think so, but... Jaheira continued with her task, not raising her eyes.

"I swore to the spirit of one of my dearest friends that I would look after Finn," she said finally. "But I do not know how much more we can do. He is a man now, not a boy. His path is up to him."

"I know," Anna whispered.

"But we will do all we can. I promise you that."

Anna was surprised when the woman grasped her firmly by the hands. She looked in to those fierce, proud green eyes, and saw a kindness radiating from them that she'd overlooked before. Anna smiled as best she could, and Jaheira smiled back.

The druid helped her into her boots and wrapped Anna's old cloak around her shoulders. Slowly Anna rose from the bed, but her head felt light and she needed to sit back down. From now on, she could only take things one step at a time. Getting off the bed was the first step. She steeled herself, and grasping on to Jaheira's arms she managed to rise.

Slowly they wandered out into the grey hall. Natural light pierced through the stone in the narrow windows, and though it nearly blinded her Anna was heartened to see it. She followed Jaheira, wobbling along until they reached a central hall. There a little smile appeared on her lips.

They were there—Ajantis, Khalid, Kivan, all people she had come to think of as friends. But their grim faces did not reflect any joy at the sight of her. She was surprised that Xan wasn't there, but perhaps his business had taken him elsewhere. She would have liked to have seen him though, in spite of everything. Anna stood quietly and leaned on Jaheira.

"Finn said he'd get a wagon," she said after a moment.

"Yes, we should...go down to the courtyard," Jaheira said, her voice rather distant.

Anna made a move forward but her legs suddenly went weak, and only Jaheira's strength kept her on her feet.

"I'm not sure..." the mage began, her voice as wobbly as her legs.

"Let me, then."

Anna had received a number of surprises that day, but she was never quite so surprised as when Kivan lifted her off her feet and carried her in his arms down through the compound.

"Thank you," she managed to say.

"Of course," the elf replied. "It is no trouble."

Anna glanced up at him. Kivan's face bore no sign of the punch Marek had thrown at him; it was calm and still as ever. She had an impulse to draw her arms around him but didn't trust herself enough to move. Instead she allowed the elf to carry his burden in silence.

...

The light of the courtyard was blinding bright, and the autumn sun rose high as it was able in a perfectly cloudless sky. Far up above the walls seagulls were coasting on the breeze, their cries distant and faint. Anna felt movement and realised that Finn was drawing her from Kivan's arms.

"Cheers, mate...I'll take her."

His words sounded almost cheerful somehow, like a reflection of something past. Anna held still as Finn carefully loaded her in the back of a wagon. The box was filled with straw and she rested comfortably as she could amongst the prickliness.

Finn climbed in next to her and the driver took up his whip. She looked out over the wagon box at the faces of her friends. Could it be the last time? That wasn't right. How could it be? There in that compound were men that the law had condemned to die, forced to wait in their sunless cells until their final moment came. Anna knew how they felt. The silent panic, the inevitable. She didn't have the strength to talk, and no one else seemed to know what to say. Finn spoke to the driver and the wagon jerked and began to roll away.

Anna leaned back and closed her eyes. The jolting of the wagon was already making her ill and she wondered how long she would last without being sick again. Strangely though she heard a commotion and the wagon jerked to a halt. She opened her eyes to see Xan's head rising above the wagon box as he clung to a wheel.

"Xan, what—" Finn began, but the elf interrupted him.

"Anna, where is it?" he demanded. "We need it."

"What?" she said slowly.

"The gem!" the elf exclaimed. "The stone. By Corellon, please tell me you have it with you."

"The stone?" Finn said. "Why, you don't mean—"

"We don't have it anymore," she answered, as though in a dream.

Xan's excitement quickly faded, and he loosened his grip on the spokes.

"I should have guessed that. It was a futile hope, regardless."

"What are you talking about?" Finn said. "The rogue stone? _You _gave that to her?"

He sounded thoroughly surprised, but the elf only nodded.

"I hope you have not lost it, at least. That would be some comfort."

"I gave it to Finn," Anna said, finally mustering some energy to speak. "He used it to escape the ambush. It saved his life."

The elf let out a long sigh. "Then it least it had some good use."

"But what did you need it for?" Finn said. "Have you found something? Gods' sake, tell me you have!"

He became more animated himself, and Anna looked at him.

"Why, what...?" she drawled.

Xan drew a breath. "When the vial was smashed I managed to salvage some of the antidote. Not enough to save you, but I thought there must be someone in the city who might be able to help. After a number of fruitless enquiries I was directed to a priest of Tymora. Their church makes a great point of healing those in the adventuring profession, and he has made a special study of antidotes. However..."

"However _what?"_ Finn exclaimed.

Xan glanced warily at the Flaming Fist driver, who was listening keenly to the conversation.

"However, because of the unique _origin _of the poison he believes that crafting an antidote might be somewhat problematic. Ingredients from that...part of the world are rather expensive, and difficult to acquire."

"Right," Finn said slowly. "But where does the rogue stone come in?"

Xan's expression faltered. "As capital. To be precise, the priest has requested an advance of...four thousand in gold. And that amount is rather deeper than our pockets, I am afraid."

"Four thousand?" Anna gasped. "We'd never...if I sold everything I owned, I wouldn't...why four thousand?"

"As I said, the ingredients are difficult to acquire. And those that possess them are not very susceptible to charity."

The elf still clung to the wagon wheel but he dropped down, perhaps to avoid the expressions on Anna and Finn's faces. Finn at once scrambled over the side.

"We can find it...we've got to. He can make up an antidote, you said?"

"He believes so," Xan sighed again. "But I did not wish..."

His voice went quiet and Anna couldn't hear what he said. Her heart was palpitating and it made her stomach vibrate all the more. An antidote? Someone could make her an antidote? She nearly wept—there _was _hope. But she thought of four thousand in gold and she was filled with despair.

"Right, listen love," Finn said, his head rising over the wagon. "Here's a change in plans. You go with Xan back to his inn. It'll be better for you there than our little hole in the wall. Me and the others though, we've got some work to do."

"But how are you—" she began.

"We'll manage it, I promise. If I have to rob every bastard in this town I'll get that money. But don't—"

"—Worry," Anna sighed.

"Yeah," Finn replied, trying to give her a little smile.

Anna shook her head. This was still all madness, but at least a flickering hope had taken hold. Xan climbed up next to the driver and she groaned as the wagon jostled onwards.

...

The trip to the Golden Hind seemed interminable and Anna didn't manage without being sick over the side, something that didn't meet the approval of the passers-by in that better part of town. Xan looked back at her with wide eyes but she was too far gone for embarrassment. She lay back in the hay and prayed that endless swaying would stop.

At last they reached the Hind. Xan called for a pair of menservants to help Anna up the stairs, not apparently trusting his own back to the task. The elf opened the door to the familiar suite of rooms and the servants laid her down on the long sofa.

"Do you require anything?" Xan asked her hesitantly.

Anna only shook her head. The enchanter gave the men a few coins and they retreated downstairs.

"I am glad the maid has the fire up, at least," Xan said, almost to himself. "It is quite cold today."

He went to the fireplace and held out his hands, warming his long fingers before the flames.

"Where is your partner?" she managed to ask.

"Gone," the elf replied, not turning from the fire. "She is gone a great deal."

Anna leaned back and shut her eyes, wishing the world would stop spinning. She would be recovering from that wagon trip for some time—if she was fortunate.

"Thank you for...having me here," she said.

"It is no bother."

Anna knew that wasn't true. She hated that everyone needed to care for her as if she were an infant, but there was nothing else to be done. And it wouldn't last much longer.

_"Oh, Chauntea," _she moaned, rubbing her eyes.

"Are you well?" Xan asked.

He turned around from the flames but Anna shook her head.

"No."

There wasn't much more to be said. Xan sat down slowly in a chair.

"Would you be more comfortable in the bedchamber?" he asked.

"No," she said. "No, I'd like to lay here awhile."

They fell silent again. Anna shut her eyes and listened to the merry crackling of the fire. It was always such a soothing sound, so homelike. Suddenly she thought of her aunt and family in the Dales. Finn would need to write to them...what would he say? Anna had only just written to tell Neala of her marriage.

"Do you think they'll find the money?" she whispered.

"I hope so," Xan replied. "Unfortunately I have nothing in my possession that would fetch such a price, beyond my blade itself."

He ran his fingers over the glowing gem in his Moonblade in thought. It almost seemed to respond to the touch and the colour shifted slightly.

"You already have helped," Anna said. "But tell me...why did you give me that stone? It was no ordinary parting gift."

"No," he sighed. "But it does not matter now."

"Then there is little harm in telling me," she coughed in reply.

Xan rested his chin on his hand, still staring into the flames. He rubbed his fingers over his brow and sighed again.

"I suppose not. It is just...my dreams have returned."

"What dreams?"

He drew a breath. "Elves in reverie are both sleeping and awake, and we guide ourselves through images of our past. But occasionally I have...visions. Things that are not of my experience. They were almost common when I was young but as I aged they grew more and more rare. I was glad of that. These past few months, however... I had attributed them to the strain of my imprisonment, but I no longer know what to believe."

"What do you see?" Anna asked, but the elf only shook his head.

"No, I will not relate that. My mother had a diviner's gifts, and perhaps I inherited some of her talents. But if these are visions of the future then they are muddled at best. It is pointless to speak of them when even I do not know what they mean."

"Did you see that I would be poisoned?" she said in surprise.

"If I had known such a thing, I certainly would have tried to prevent it," Xan said, almost sharply. "I am no seer. No, I—no. Perhaps there is no truth to any of this. Try to put it from your mind. It does not...matter anymore."

He folded his hands tight and looked down at the elaborate woollen swirls in the carpet. Anna drew a shaking breath.

"I thought, perhaps...you were so angry at the rat catcher. I've never seen you look so."

Xan's entire body jerked, but he didn't raise his eyes.

"My father was slain by a follower of the Poison Queen," he said. "I watched him suffer, and I watched him die. Once in a lifetime was enough."

His face stayed still but Anna heard a harshness in his voice. The effort of a reply was too much though and she shut her eyes once more.

...

She opened them again hearing voices. Confused she realised she was no longer on the narrow sofa, reclining instead on a soft bed with a lace counterpane. Anna called out and Finn immediately appeared.

"Alright?" he said, sitting on the bedside. He seemed to have lost the ability to ask anything else.

_"Antidote," _she rasped.

Finn gave her a draught from a bottle at the bedside table, but it had little effect.

"We're going to get that money," he said, running his hand over her sweating forehead. "We will. I promise. Just...hold on. Please hold on."

_"Where?" _Anna said.

"I don't know," Finn replied. "But we will. We will."

She could hear the desperation in his voice. He squeezed her hand but she was too tired to speak. That numbness had crept up her arm and she could hardly move it at all. Not long now. Not long till it reached her heart.

...

Anna spent the time after that between sleeping and waking. How long it was that she lay there she didn't know. Things seemed to grow larger and smaller again in the room, and once she cried out in fear that the bed was about to collapse. She saw no faces, heard no voices. Just shapes, drifting in and out of her vision. At least the pain had passed—the coldness saw to that. Even the fear left her. There was nothing, nothing at all.

She barely noticed when her head raised, barely felt the cool touch of glass on her cracked lips. Only by instinct did she swallow the draught, but the change it brought was immediate. Like a crashing wave extinguishing a fire her head seemed to clear, and her vision returned. She looked up to see Finn cradling her in his arms.

"By Tymora! It is working! I knew our gamble would pay off!"

It wasn't Finn who spoke. Anna looked over his shoulder to see a man in a brightly coloured robe doing an excited little jig by her bedside. Finn didn't pay him any heed, instead gazing down at Anna with a cracked smile on his face.

_"Finn," _she whispered. _"Are you crying?"_

"Not me," he said hoarsely, and wiped his red eyes.

He pulled her tight to him and Anna gladly pressed her head into his chest. She could feel the life flowing back into her veins, like spring itself had come. She drew a sharp breath and let out a grateful sob.

"Excellent, priest," another voice said. "I am relieved to see such an immediate return on my little investment."

The voice was deep and smooth, and familiar. Anna looked up. What she thought was a shadow at the bedside moved, and a towering man appeared in the light.

"Yeah," Finn said, his joyful expression growing darker. "Your _investment."_

Anna stared up at the man with wide eyes, and he smiled down at her. A strange feeling within her rose that her soul had just been sold to Sarevok Anchev.


	82. Shadowplay

"What does he want, then?"

Anna sipped at the slightly bitter infusion Jaheira had prepared for her and shivered. The fire in the bedchamber crackled warmly but she still felt cold.

"Same thing he wanted before," Finn sighed. "A little help with his dad."

She stared at the lacy curtains and said nothing. Anchev had made his departure not long after her restoration, perhaps sensing his company was little wanted. Not that he seemed the sort to care, Anna considered. Men such as him went where and when they chose.

How glad Anna had been to see her friends gathered around her when she awoke; though little was said she could see the strain her illness had put on them all. She could scarce believe herself that the odd priest of Tymora's potion had cured the poison in her veins, but so it had. Cured, but not entirely healed—she felt weaker than she'd ever been in her life and the mere effort of sitting propped up on the pillows was exhausting.

Finn shifted and moved closer to her on the bed. The others had given them some time for privacy but neither said much of anything. Anna felt too weak, and he looked as ill as she felt. His eyes were heavy and dark, almost giving the impression that he'd been in a fight. Straggling hairs framed his face and it seemed like he hadn't used a comb in days. His chin was covered in heavy stubble and he rubbed it thoughtfully as he gazed into the fire.

"Are you going to help him?" Anna asked.

"Don't see that we have much choice. He saved your life."

Again Anna said nothing. _A little help with his dad, _that was a serious understatement. Rieltar Anchev was probably the most feared man in the city, at least amongst the ones who worked openly, and no confrontation with him was guaranteed to end well.

"But what about the Flaming Fist? Surely they must..."

"If they could have brought him down they'd have done it by now," Finn said. "We've got nothing on him, besides being a jackass. He's too slippery. There isn't anything else left."

"I thought Officer Vai didn't think he was behind this," she remarked.

"He's caught up in it somehow. Either way, he played his hand in the iron trouble. What we've never been able to do is draw all the threads together. Something's missing, but we don't know what," he said, shaking his head. "But we can't wait anymore. There's been new trouble on the border."

"What's happened?" she said anxiously.

Finn made a face as though he was mentally slapping himself, but he continued.

"I didn't want to tell you, but Amn's accused the Flaming Fist of attacking their patrols in the Cloudpeaks. Of course we haven't, and any fool could see that. The Dukes countered with the attacks on villages by men claiming to be Amnish soldiers. The discussions aren't going too well, to say the least. Dessander says there's some talk that the Amnish ambassador might be called home. And that won't be good news."

Anna stared at him. "But when did...? How long have you known this?"

"I've been hearing rumours ever since we came to town," Finn replied. "But the captain's good enough to keep me in the loop. I know I should have told you, but you seemed worried enough. Then all this bullshite happened...war's been the last thing on my mind."

But it was now the first thing on hers. Anna swallowed her infusion hard.

"Have you told the captain about Sarevok's offer?"

"Yeah," Finn said slowly. "But it's probably best not to talk about."

Anna opened her mouth again but a quiet knock sounded on the door, and Jaheira entered.

"Forgive me. But if she has finished her tea, Anna should rest."

The druid seemed almost to be walking on eggshells and her words were quiet as her knock. Anna took another swallow and placed the cup on the bedside table. Finn rose up slowly.

"Yeah. Don't worry about anything, love. Just try and rest."

He placed a kiss on her brow and Anna cringed inwardly; those words had become almost like a curse. Finn brushed past Jaheira and the druid bent over her.

"A foolish question perhaps, but how do you feel?" she asked.

A shadow of a smile flickered over Anna's face.

"Drained, mostly. And my stomach hurts."

She rubbed her abdomen and it cried in pain.

"That poison was vile indeed," Jaheira replied. "Bertram clearly intended foul mischief when he sold that draught to Lothander. That infusion should help restore you, but it will take time."

She sat at the bedside chair and began changing the dressing on Anna's hand. The mage expected the worst but was relieved to see it looking considerably less rotted than before. She wiggled her fingers and they moved stiffly.

"Has there been any...news about Marek?" Anna asked.

Jaheira's jaw clenched and she drew a sharp little breath.

"No news. I believe the Flaming Fist have yet to put him on trial."

Anna thought her expression looked strange.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"No," the druid said. "I do not doubt the law will act justly in his case."

The little smile she gave her didn't comfort Anna much, but she was too tired to ask any more. Jaheira finished the dressing and left her to a very deep sleep.

...

The next day Anna felt strong enough to petition Jaheira into allowing her to leave bed. She sat propped on pillows and buried under blankets in the sitting room, looking very much like an invalid. Though in truth her rise had less to do with a return of health than an interest in hearing the conversations that were going on around her. Visitors seemed to come and go at all hours, and Anna had awoken to scraps of muffled talk behind the door which didn't bring her much comfort.

_You cannot risk this, Finn, _Jaheira's voice had said. _With all these troubles, if you were caught..._

_I haven't got a choice, _his reply came. _I know I'm on my own._

What trouble he should have Finn didn't say. Anna glanced up at him, standing by the fireplace in his uniform. He'd tended to his appearance enough to pass captain's muster, but his face still wore that tight expression and he barely even smiled when he noticed her looking at him.

"Anchev says it's all on," Finn said. "Those Amnish blokes have been delayed, not surprisingly, but they're nearly to the city."

He crumpled a scrap of notepaper between his fingers and threw it into the fire.

"I do still wish you would reconsider," Jaheira said quietly. "We could tend to this without your involvement."

"I won't be in uniform," he replied.

"But that is not the—"

"I know."

Neither of them said anything else. Jaheira leaned against the window frame, her eyes examining the city below. Xan shifted in his armchair and spoke.

"Finn's situation is delicate, but all things considered it is not our greatest difficulty. The elder Anchev's reaction to our presence will be the primary concern. Whatever we may suspect him of, the fact is that we would be trespassers in his home—trespassers without any authority whatsoever. And I fear his welcome will not be a warm one."

Another understatement, Anna thought. Khalid rubbed his hollow cheeks and sighed slightly.

"You are c-correct. But as Finn s-says, I no longer think we have a ch-choice. The time is coming when trespassing will seem insignificant."

"It is good to finally move against these dogs," Kivan remarked. "I can think little of the law of these lands that they let this man walk free for so long. They would sooner follow him merrily into war than make accusations."

The ranger stood opposite Finn along the fireplace. His lean form almost blended into a recess behind the marble and only his ragged cloak peeked beyond the edges.

"If only it were that easy," Finn sighed. "Besides, Duke Eltan pretty much has the others under his thumb. Now _there's _a fellow nobody's willing to accuse of ought."

"And their blind loyalty may be their undoing," the elf replied. "A leader is only worthy of respect so long as he acts in a way to deserve it."

_"Hrm," _Finn muttered. "But he's in charge all right, and there's no denying it. We just need to...work around him."

Anna wondered if those were his captain's words, but she sipped on her infusion and said nothing.

"Working around the lords of this city—an exciting prospect, no doubt," Xan remarked.

He jumped slightly at a quiet rap on the door. The elf rose to unbolt it and a maid's round face appeared in the hall.

"Excuse me, sir, we were wondering if you wanted the room done up yet?" she said.

With her lying there the spare bedchamber wouldn't have had much attention lately, Anna figured. Xan sighed and gestured for the girl to enter.

"Yes, you may as well tend to it. I believe our meeting is over? There seems little else to discuss now."

He directed the question at the others, and Finn rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah. I need to get back to base anyway—my dinner hour's about up. But I'll come round tonight."

"When are we going home?" Anna suddenly spoke.

Finn looked at her. The question surprised her too; she'd never thought she'd have a desire to leave the comfortable inn for their dingy little room, but so she had.

"Well, whenever you're feeling up to it, I suppose," Finn said slowly. "But maybe you'd rather stay here a few more days? I'm sure Xan doesn't mind."

He looked at the elf almost hopefully and Xan cleared his throat.

"I expect Luedre will be back in the city at any time...but of course you may stay as long as you wish. Perhaps it would be for the best."

The second half of the statement seemed added rather quickly. Having her there lingering on the verge of death couldn't have been pleasant, Anna thought. And now that she was up again she couldn't blame him for wishing his guest would depart.

"Thank you, but I'd rather go home," she said.

"All right then," Finn said, an air of resignation in his tone. "Unless Jaheira has a reason?"

The druid bit her lip. "No, there is little more I can do now. She needs rest, that is all."

Finn nodded but didn't reply. Did he not want her to go home? It almost seemed that way. Apart from bad memories Anna couldn't think of any reason for his reluctance. Perhaps he just thought she'd be more comfortable at the Hind.

"We'll go back tonight, then," he said. "But I'd better be off for now. Be good, love."

Finn tried to sound cheery and gave Anna a peck on the forehead before hurrying downstairs. After he left Jaheira pulled herself away from the window with a jerk.

"We should also depart, my husband. Dermin said he wished a word with us."

"I have n-not forgotten," Khalid replied, somewhat bitterly. "We'll call around l-later this evening."

Anna wondered what words their Harper master would have for them but she knew better than to ask. Jaheira gave her a bag of herbs and the couple likewise made their good-byes. Beyond the window Anna could hear temple bells striking twice. A strange fit of energy struck her and she rose up slowly from her cocoon.

"I think I will go home now," she said. "I want a change of clothes."

"Are you certain?" Xan asked. "I didn't mean to imply that—"

"No, no," Anna interrupted. "I just...would like to be at home. Could you tell the maid to call for a driver?"

"If you like. But you may wish to..."

"What?" she asked.

Xan hesitated for some reason, but Kivan spoke.

"I will accompany her. If you wish, of course."

Anna smiled slightly. "I'd like that. Thank you."

Kivan bowed his head but didn't reply. Anna manoeuvred around the active maids in the bedchamber to gather up her few things. She was wobbly and her stomach still complained but she felt determined to go. Perhaps she would regret it later when curled up on the hard straw mattress, but somehow she just needed to be done with that place.

...

She said farewell to Xan and trundled slowly down the stairs, with Kivan close behind. Anna was glad the elf had volunteered to see her home but she couldn't think of why he'd bother. Outside a covered carriage already waited, the sort used to ferrying the more moneyed inhabitants of the city to and fro. The air was crisp and cool and Anna gladly drew it into her lungs. The driver helped her into the carriage but looked somewhat dismayed when Kivan merely scrambled up on back. He muttered a comment to himself and whipped up the horses, drawing them away from the Golden Hind.

Anna drew the lap robe closer and watched as the city bounced by. It didn't look like a town on the verge of war. People were still laughing and talking in the streets, and the merchant's stalls were busy as ever. As far as she could tell Baldur's Gate still bustled with the round of usual activity. But who could tell what lay in wait outside the gates? The city could easily become a trap, and she was glad Imoen was safely in Candlekeep.

The horses moved swiftly and before long the old house came into view. It looked the same as ever, with the coils of dingy smoke issuing from the many chimneys. The gate was shut but Anna gave it little mind as she crawled stiffly from the coach. Kivan hopped off the back and the horses' hooves clattered away down the street. Anna turned the iron ring in the gate but paused in surprise.

"Locked? How odd."

She knew the Flaming Fist had increased their patrols around the place but it still seemed strange that the gate would be locked in the daytime. She rapped against the wood but no one replied.

"I could climb over the wall and open it from the other side," Kivan offered nonchalantly.

"Don't worry," Anna replied, restraining a chuckle. "I'll manage it."

She spoke a familiar incantation and heard the sound of the bolt falling open. Kivan pushed open the gate and they made their way into the yard. Oddly for that bright day no laundry hung in the yard. Anna noticed too a few strange stains on the cracked plaster walls, discoloured and runny-looking Suddenly a voice called out.

"You there—_halt!_ Oh, it's you! Sorry, Anna, I didn't recognise your mate there."

She turned to see Mick appearing from around the corner of the house, with that affable grin on his face. Anna managed to smile back.

"It's good to see you," she said. "I'm sorry but I opened the gate. No one answered our knock."

"Ah, right," Mick laughed. "Sorry, I was just round back, you know. Didn't think I was gone a minute. So you're...feeling better, I hope?"

His grin faded and he gave her an appraising look.

"Just a bit," she smiled. "Hopefully I'm back to stay now."

"Good to hear you're up and around. Is Finn still at base?"

"I think so," she replied. "Or off on patrol. He'll be home tonight."

"Right," Mick said, drawing a sharp breath. "Well, you two need anything, let me know. And be sure to give a shout to Ella, I know she was worried about you."

He gave her a quick nod and went to lock the gate. Her poisoning must have put them all on edge, Anna thought, but she could hardly blame them. Supposing Marek's accomplice had found the wrong room? She shuddered at the idea of one of the children coming across that blade.

Thankfully the house door was open so she and Kivan climbed the murky stairs up to the chamber. Anna was glad to hear the common noises from behind the doors, but she felt something like a ghost returning home. Everything seemed alien somehow. Perhaps she just needed to lay down. She turned the key in the lock and opened the door to the little chamber.

Anna expected it to be as before but she was pleasantly surprised. The bed was made and the floor scrubbed clean, and the grate was swept clear of ashes. The old curtain hung stiffly starched and pressed at the window. Clearly Ella had seen to the place in her absence.

"This was on the floor, _mellonamin," _Kivan said. "It is a letter? There is writing on it."

Anna turned, surprised to see him holding up a piece of parchment. She must have stepped over it without noticing. She was even more surprised to see the Jhasso family crest stamped into the red wax. Quickly she broke open the seal and unfolded the parchment.

"I wonder when this came? Oh, no..."

"What does it say?" Kivan asked.

Anna began to hand him the letter before remembering that the elf couldn't read. With a dry voice she read out the contents of the note.

_"To Master Finn, Rosemount House, South Wall—_

_I am sorry to ask for your aid again, but I have nowhere else to turn. I write to tell you that Father has made a complete recovery. Not two days ago he rose from bed, on his own, and went in to the office as though he had never been ill. Yet while those words should bring much joy it is clear that something is still very wrong._

_I must begin by explaining the events since our last encounter. After the incident Mother barred anyone from seeing our father—neither Celia nor myself and not even the servants were allowed into his chamber. None were allowed but herself and that wretch of a healer she has placed so much faith in. I dislike the man immensely—he presents himself as sociable but something in his manner leaves me cold, always lurking about in that old brown robe of his. I thought of breaking the locks but at that time I felt too exhausted to act. In truth, there seemed nothing left to do. I had resigned myself to despair._

_And then, the recovery. Old Toby said he nearly fainted when he saw my father coming down the stairs and demanding the carriage. Of course we no longer have one but Toby dutifully called for a cab. Father went to the Seven Suns and Toby ran about like a fool, shouting that a miracle had occurred right in this very house._

_Naturally, Celia and myself were overjoyed. Yet Mother seemed almost unconcerned by the revelation, as if she'd expected it. Perhaps I read too much into her reaction; true emotion seems a thing of the past with her. I ran the entire distance to the Seven Suns in the happy prospect of seeing my father again. But when I arrived, breathless, I was told that Father was having no visitors. Not even his son!_

_And so this continues. Father says almost nothing to Celia and myself, and does not even return home for meals. Mother visits him at the office but will not say what he does there. Of course the entire place has been overrun with those Iron Throne bastards and there's not many of our people left to ask. All I can gather is that he is doing a great deal of writing._

_If nothing else his behaviour would be worrying in an older gentleman who has just recovered from a serious illness, but I feel there is something more sinister at work here. Perhaps I have only grown paranoid with all this madness but then I do not think anyone could blame me. I am not sure what manner of aid you could provide; perhaps I just need friends. Please contact soon. Mother is away a great deal and there seems little danger in sending a note._

_Yours,_

_Edmund Jhasso"_

"Perhaps this is the answer Finn has been seeking," Kivan remarked. "Clearly that man has not simply woken up hale."

"I don't know..." Anna said, her eyes running over the letter. "I don't know. What could we do? Xan can't force himself on Master Jhasso, and there's even less chance for the rest of us."

"We have only to find out. Perhaps this confrontation with Anchev will be avoidable."

Anna looked at him. "I thought you were interested in confrontation."

"Not if there is another path," he replied, looking straight back. "I would be happy to give that man my blade but there are other choices to consider."

Anna sighed and sat down. She was not feeling very well at that moment.

"Well, I suppose Finn will decide. But I'll be comfortable enough here now, if you wanted to..."

A slight smile passed over the ranger's face.

"I shall build up the fire at least, if you would like."

"Yes," she replied, shivering in the cold room. "That would be kind of you."

Kivan fetched up an armful of wood and set the kindling alight in the grate. He even drew up a bucket of water for her without being asked. Anna was pleased but felt self-conscious in some way—more than anything she wanted people to stop waiting on her as an invalid. Although she knew quite well that she was exactly that.

...

The elf departed and Anna realised there was no food in the place. Not that she had much appetite but Finn would when he came home, and some broth would do her well. She rested for a while and reluctantly took up her shopping basket and coin purse. After all, if she was to start living again this would be as good a start as any.

Mick looked surprised to see her but he opened the gate.

"Now, you have any trouble out there, just scurry back here and I'll deal with it," he said.

"I'll be fine," Anna mumbled, and hurried away before he had a chance to offer to do the marketing for her.

Fortunately the market street wasn't far. Anna wound her way through the cobbled streets, down the scuttleways and shortcuts she'd discovered in her time there. Her legs were wobbly and she walked slow but being out in the air had an invigorating effect. She felt happy to see the people who jostled past well wrapped in their woollen shawls and hoods. It was life—ordinary, commonplace _life. _How often had she failed to appreciate it? To Anna's weary eyes that dreary street was filled with the kings and queens of Baldur's Gate.

She stopped first at a vegetable seller she'd learned to trust. Too many of the merchants there were quick with a trick to scrape a few more coppers out of the less wary customers, but Master Salas seemed honest and friendly.

"Well hello there, missy," he chirped. "You've not been to market in some days."

Salas stood by his crates of vegetables, warming his hands on a brazier. A woman handed him a small armful of carrots and he set them into the swinging scale.

"No, I've been a bit under the weather," Anna said. Another understatement.

"Ah, there's always a bit of that going round this time o' year," he replied. "Have a bit of that ginger there, on the house. That will warm ye up nice and good. I take it every day and I'm never sick, me, though I'm stood out here all day long."

"That's good of you," she smiled.

Anna poked around in the crates picking out turnips and other roots for the pot. At that time of year there wasn't much more than roots, though the sight of the apples did perk up her appetite. Some spiced apple mush would be just the thing.

"We've got dates in now as well," Salas said. "Just off the boat from the desert oasises of Calimshan. How'd ye like to be there today, aye? Be a sight better place to wait out the winter than in this grey-stone town."

The merchant rubbed his calloused hands over the brazier thoughtfully, dreaming for a moment over his imported dates and their lure of more tropic climes.

"That would be something," she sighed. "But I'll just have these for today."

Anna handed him her basket and he began weighing out her purchases. She mentally kept tally as best she was able but she rather had to trust on Salas that day. While she waited another woman came to inspect the merchant's wares, but her gaze came to rest on Anna.

"Ere now, aren't you one of them Flaming Fist wenches?"

"I beg your pardon?" Anna stammered.

Her round face was regarding her keenly, but Anna couldn't remember ever seeing the woman in her life.

"Oh, aye—I recognise them airs," the woman continued. "Think you're so much better than the rest of us dross. Well at least I don't crawl into bed every night with a common murderer, thank you very much."

Anna stared at her and took a step back, almost frightened by the middle-aged woman's hostility.

_"What _are you—"

"You think we don't know?" the woman demanded. "Word travels fast in this town, it does. Your lads can do in whoever you please and get off free as a bird. Well not for much longer, mark you. Us common folk have had enough."

Anna still could only stare as the woman's indignant face grew redder. Fortunately though Salas spoke.

"See here!" he proclaimed. "This lady ain't had nothing to do with that. Go on, clear out of here. Nobody's using my stall for their catfights, missus."

The woman tossed her head. "I do believe I will. Timana's veg is a sight better than yorn—there sommat _rotten _about it here."

Her dismissal delivered the woman trounced away down the street. Anna felt her stomach turn and she looked at Salas helplessly.

"What did she mean?"

The merchant's face grew tight. "You haven't heard? Some group of Flaming Fist burst into a house the other day on opposite side of town, just killed some fellow in cold blood. Unarmed he was. Reckon he was a criminal all right, but folk aren't too happy about it. You know what people are like—any old cutpurse gets tripped up by the law and suddenly he's a hero. Don't worry though, I reckon it'll all blow over."

Anna's mouth tasted of brass and she couldn't reply. Somehow she managed to count out the coins with a shaking hand. She took up her basket and hurried back to the house, completely forgetting about visiting the baker and butcher. She rapped on the gate and swept past Mick with hardly a word. _If you have trouble..._now she knew what he meant. She stumbled up the stairs and curled up onto the bed, her middle shaking in fear.

...

Ella stopped by to see her but Anna could muster few words. Good neighbour that she always was she brought her some pottage, though Anna couldn't bring herself to eat. She left it in the kettle to bubble until Finn came home.

Darkness came and he still didn't return. Anna reminded herself that he'd probably go to the Golden Hind first, and she felt foolish for leaving. Little wonder he didn't want her to go home; the Flaming Fist house was under siege. Those stains she noticed on the wall were from eggs, they had to be. Hopefully that was the worst thing to come flying over the wall.

Eventually she heard the welcome sound of his boots on the stairs and she crawled from bed. She was still fumbling with a candle when the door opened.

"Anna?"

Finn was silhouetted in darkness, but a spark from her hands finally brought a dim light to the room. He stood still in the doorway, looking at her as if it were the first time.

"I'm here," she said quietly.

He shut the door and drew her into his arms. She rested against the cold of his chainmail, thankful for his strength.

"Gods, I was worried...I wish you hadn't come back here alone," he finally said.

"I didn't know..." Anna replied. "Why didn't...why didn't you tell me?"

Her voice had a desperate edge. Finn groaned and sat down at the table.

"Didn't know how. It's bullshite, Anna, all of it. You know that. You saw it yourself."

She pulled out a chair and sat next to him. That day all seemed like a pained blur. All she could really remember clearly was the sight of that precious vial smashing under his boot. She remembered that and shuddered.

"What are the Fist going to do?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing, most likely. The captain believes our story. It's Lothander's whore, that bitch—"

_"Finn."_

"Sorry, but I can't think of a more generous word," he said bitterly. "It's that Rosie, she's been stirring up trouble. Trying to make her man out to be some kind of martyr. And of course people are always ready to believe the worst about the law. That's why they've put Marek's trial to the side, waiting for it to cool down. Lucky him though—he's not likely to get a capital sentence now."

"Does he deserve one?"

Finn sighed raggedly. "Don't know. Can't say I'd be sorry to see him swinging from the gallows. But that's nothing to do with me."

Anna rubbed her eyes, red and sore from her crying. She did her best to recall that awful afternoon. She was so ill—she remembered Lothander, half-dressed and pathetic. He had a dagger, she remembered that much. He wasn't unarmed, for whatever it was worth. But the next thing she knew it was buried in his chest.

"Did you need to kill him?" she croaked.

She remembered too Finn's face. She remembered how black it was. Had she been afraid? That she couldn't remember.

He drew a slow breath. "I grabbed hold of him and he turned on me with that knife. His mistake."

"But did you need to...?" she asked again. Finn looked at her.

"He wasn't going quietly. Lothander was swinging that dagger all about in that little room, you were on the floor—there was kids downstairs. That woman Deela was screaming all the while. Didn't take much to turn that dagger around and end it."

"But—"

"What do you want me to say?" he interrupted. "I did what I had to. And I'm not sorry he's dead."

Though the room was now warm Anna shivered at the coldness in his tone. Was she sorry Lothander was dead? She had no sympathy for the man, that was true. Perhaps she'd gone as cold as Finn's words.

...

"Why don't you just get some rest?" he said. "No point in worrying about it now. I'll put this lot in the cupboard."

He nodded to the still-full basket that rested where Anna dropped it near the door. Suddenly she shook herself out of her reverie.

"We had this...Ella said it came yesterday."

She handed him the young Jhasso's letter, completely forgotten about until then. Finn took it up and read, his brow knotting tighter.

"Isn't that just bloody fantastic," he muttered.

"What are we going to do?" Anna said.

Finn didn't have time to reply. They heard boots mounting the stairs and a quick knock sounded on the door. He opened it to find one of their neighbours in the hall.

"Evening," he said. "Sorry to interrupt, but this fellow here says he knows you."

"I _do _know them," an irritated voice said. "Oh, how I do."

_"Edmund?" _Anna exclaimed.

And so it was. The younger Jhasso was well-hooded in an indigo cloak and he stepped into the room.

"Did you get my note?" he asked anxiously. "I've been waiting...but I can't wait anymore."

"It's alright, Nolan," Finn sighed. "We know him."

Their neighbour nodded and departed to his patrol. Finn shut and bolted the door behind the nervous young man.

"Sit down, lad—you're shaking like a grasshopper," Finn remarked. "Has it gone that cold outside?"

Edmund pulled down his hood and collapsed in the chair nearest the fire. His thin features still looked pale and drained.

"It's not the cold," he said. "Though you wouldn't happen to have any wine? Or brandy, that would be better."

Anna grimaced slightly but she fished out a small jar of whiskey from the cupboard and poured him a measure. Edmund promptly tipped it back as though it were water.

"What's happened?" Finn asked. "We only got your letter today. We've had—some problems of our own."

"So I've heard," Edmund gasped. "But I couldn't care less what the Flaming Fist did to some ruffian. It's Celia. She's gone, and I can't find her."

They stared at the young man, and he continued.

"She was determined to see Father, so yesterday afternoon she went up to the Suns. She went alone, and she hasn't been back since! I tried to find her. I went down last eve but the guards played dumb. I'd just hoped she'd gone to visit a friend, but she never came home. Mother just says she's out with a boy, doesn't care at all. Out with a boy all night? She's too proper a girl for that, I know my sister. And how could Mother not even care? You'd think she'd be in hysterics!"

"Did you try to find her today?" Finn interrupted.

"Of course," Edmund said. "I've been at it all day. I called round to all her friends. They haven't seen her. I tried the Suns again, but the guards say she was never there. Utter rubbish! One of our servants there, a good old fellow, he says he saw her going into Father's office. But what's his word mean these days? I need help."

Edmund reached for the whiskey jug and poured himself another draught. His hands were shaking, but not from the alcohol. Anna looked at Finn and he let out a pained groan.

"Feck's sake, this just keeps getting better. Alright, we'll do what we can."

"I'm sorry about your sister, Edmund," Anna said hesitantly, "but wouldn't it be best to just...report this? You could get the Flaming Fist to investigate."

"There's no time for that!" Edmund exclaimed. "The gods only know what they're doing to her. Besides, nobody even admits to seeing her there. It's the Throne's word against ours."

"I reckon he has a point," Finn said reluctantly. "Besides, he's got a right to be in the Seven Suns. With him we wouldn't exactly be trespassing."

A narrow point, Anna thought. The last thing in the world she wanted just then was to have Finn skulking around the Seven Suns, no matter what. But she sensed that she had little to dissuade him with.

"It'll be quiet there now," Edmund said. "Most of the merchants will have gone home. We could have a look around, if nothing else. There must be someone who knows _something. _By the gods, maybe even Father might speak."

Anna felt less sure, but she rose up and drew on her cloak.

"Hang on, you shouldn't go," Finn said. "You should just...rest. We'll manage this."

"Do you think I'm letting you go alone?" she replied. "Tell Nolan to call for a cart. We'll get there faster."

The suggestion was less a concern of speed; she was worried her legs wouldn't hold out for the walk. Finn's face went tight but he reluctantly nodded.

"Good idea. But if there's any trouble, you'll be back in it. Worrying over you has nearly done me in these past few days. Come on, lad, if you're sober."

He clapped Edmund on the shoulder and he rose up quickly.

"Good as I'll ever be," he replied. "And I'm not helpless myself."

For the first time Anna noticed he wore a blade on his belt. She moved the kettle from the fire and set the screen before the flames.

"But do you think it would be best to find the others first?" she said, still hoping to steer this ship in some manner.

"We'll manage," Finn said shortly. "And if not...we'll think of something. Let's go."

He peeled off his uniform and Anna could think of nothing more to say. She gathered up her quarterstaff and they hurried from the room.


	83. Family Bonds

Their neighbour managed to find a driver at the tavern who was willing to make the trip for the price of a few more ales. No fancy carriage was this however; the rag-cart was open to the night air and it ambled slowly behind the lone donkey. To make matters worse a fine, cold mist had begun to fall, clouding the street lamps and the cart's own tin lantern in a haze.

How Anna disliked the rains of late autumn. A springtime blast carried the promise of the new in its cold drops but those of Uktar only seemed to bring illness and decay. Little wonder the month was commonly called the Rotting. But was it Uktar now, she wondered? Anna had no idea. She'd lost track of the days, but it hardly seemed to matter anymore.

Edmund drew his fine indigo cloak tighter around him and shivered. However far the Jhasso fortunes had fallen he was still well-dressed in his embroidered waistcoat and suede jacket. Not clothes which were well-suited to a spot of espionage on a rainy night, however.

He toyed with his sword's hilt and she wondered how much skill with it he actually had. He and Finn were about the same age but there seemed a world of difference between the two. They'd certainly lived entirely different lives.

Anna knew Finn could handle a sword, if nothing else. And that unknown Cormyrian forge had produced an excellent blade, kept balanced and especially sharp by magic. Her grandfather had it crafted for her father back when he still entertained the idea that his son would follow in his martial footsteps. Anna was glad Finn had it, though a large part of her wished it had stayed firmly shut in her spare chamber.

She wondered what he was thinking now. Finn's face was buried in his hood and she could see nothing of his expression. But quite likely he was thinking the same as she—_this never ends_.

The group stayed quiet and the driver had little interest in conversation, huddled as he was in his old oilskin coat. Eventually they arrived at a side-street near the Seven Suns trading consortium. Anna had been there once before—how long ago and absurd their ruse now seemed. The grand building looked different as well, crouching in the night behind its walls with most of the fine glass windows dark.

"This'll do, mate, cheers," Finn said automatically.

He handed the driver a few coins and the stiff passengers tumbled out of the back of the cart. The taciturn driver clucked to the donkey and man and beast disappeared into the mist.

"Well, this is your place," Finn said to Edmund. "Lead the way."

"We shouldn't go in the front," he replied. "The guards would probably just fob us off. But maybe we'll have better luck around back."

They hurried down the wet paving stones up to that familiar gate, where a flicker of light glowed from the small guard booth. A man sat bundled inside but Anna could make out nothing of his features.

"Warrick? Is that you?" Edmund said.

The bundle shifted and jerked. "Master Edmund? Gods alive, but you startled me, sir."

The man rose up and stepped from the booth. He wasn't the guard from their last visit but Edmund seemed to know him well.

"Is there any word?" he said quickly.

"None that I've heard, sir," the guard sighed. "And if I wasn't bound here I'd be looking for that lass as we speak. It just ain't right. The demons have taken this place, if you don't mind me saying."

"I've been saying it for a long while," Edmund replied grimly. "But we're going to have a proper hunt round, the Throne be damned. Let us in."

The guard drew out his keys but hesitated.

"Now sir, I wish you all the best but you know them chaps don't take kindly to having their toes stepped on. Maybe it'd be best to call in the Flaming Fist."

"That's what they are," Edmund said, nodding his head at Finn and Anna. "Now open up that gate."

He could do little but acquiesce. The guard unlocked the small portal and the three of them stepped into the deserted courtyard. Edmund led them up to a side-door and pulled out his own ring of keys.

"They've had the locks changed since they took over, but one of our boys was clever enough to get us a wax impression," he whispered. "We'll try the kitchens first. One of the servants might have seen something."

They entered a cluttered hallway. The area clearly functioned as some sort of merchandise drop-off point and stacks of wooden crates and barrels lined the walls. Edmund craned his neck out to see if any guards were on patrol, then ushered them down the hall.

The building was as empty as Edmund promised and they encountered no one during their scurrying flight to the kitchens. They tried to walk quietly but their footsteps still echoed and bounced annoyingly loud off the tiled floors. Finally Edmund opened a door and led them down the winding staircase to the cellars.

...

Anna froze hearing voices but Edmund looked ahead and gestured for them to follow. The large kitchen was nearly empty and lit only by the wide fireplace.

"By Ilmater!" a woman said. "What brings you here this hour of the night, Master Edmund?"

She and two men were sitting around a rough table, sharing out a meal of sorts. The three rose up out of politeness but one of the men spoke.

"I take it Miss Celia still hasn't been home?"

"No, Hadrigan, she hasn't. Is there any news here?" Edmund asked.

"Well, yes sir," the man replied. "She's turned up at last—she was with your father when last we saw her."

"When? When was this?" he exclaimed.

"Not a couple of hours ago, sir. I'd have thought the master and her would have gone home by now, but he's still keeping that queer schedule of his, I reckon. No offence, sir."

Edmund seemed to melt almost in his relief, and he ran a hand over his brow. He looked at Anna and Finn with a shaking smile on his face.

"Thank Helm. But now I feel a bit of an ass for dragging the pair of you down here," he said.

"Don't worry about it," Finn replied. "I've got a sister, too. Right pains in the behind they are."

He chuckled but Anna could see a relief in his eyes, one that must have been matched by her own. Here was one time at least they would be spared intrigue.

"She's here all right, but Miss Celia is acting odd as her father," the younger servant spoke. "I knocked to bring 'em some wine and toast but she acted frosty as if I'd offered her a trump from me behind."

"Derl! Mind your tongue!" the woman snapped.

The lad looked embarrassed. "Right. I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean nothing by it. But Miss Celia was never one to have her nose in the air, that's all."

"Be that as it may, it's no place of yours to speak so," the woman continued. "Maybe all this business is just getting to the lass."

Edmund's face fell, but not from the lad's insult, and Anna could feel her stomach following.

"Is she still with Father?" he asked.

"I reckon so, sir, if she's still here," the lad remarked. "Can't think of where else she'd be. The fires are burnt down in the parlours and no one's rang to have 'em built up."

"And Celia would never do up her own fire—she's afraid of the sparks catching her dress," Edmund said. "Her skirts caught fire when she was a girl and she never quite got over it."

"Do you want to try and find her?" Finn sighed. "If she's with your father you might get a word with him as well."

"Would you...come with me?" Edmund hesitated. "I know it sounds foolish, but I don't want to face Father on my own."

"Well, that's what we're here for," he replied.

...

They bade the servants goodnight and made their way back up the stairs. Edmund's features grew tighter and tighter as they walked. He seemed to walk with enough purpose that a guard they passed didn't even challenge them, although perhaps he simply didn't consider him a threat.

They reached his father's office and Edmund tried the door. It was locked, but Anna saw light from underneath the frame. Edmund pounded on the panel. There was no response from within. He pounded again but his face went white as it suddenly opened up underneath his fist.

_"Edmund? _What are you doing?"

Celia stood in the doorway, staring at her brother in surprise. Edmund lowered his hand.

"Are you all right?" he demanded. "Celia, where have you been?"

Anna looked her over but she could see nothing amiss. She wore a pretty dress with a quilted bodice, rather long in the hem for a girl her age but she seemed fond of that sort of thing. Her brown hair was pulled back at the temples and a simple pair of earrings shone on her lobes.

"I'm sorry, were you looking for me?" she asked. "I've been helping Father with some of his papers. We were rather late last night so we decided to stay in the quarters here."

Edmund let out an agitated breath. "And you couldn't be bothered to let me or Mother know? I've been running myself ragged trying to find you!"

A smile passed over Celia's mouth and she laughed lightly.

"Oh, Edmund, I'm sorry. I didn't even think. I won't do it again."

Her explanation seemed little welcome, though, and her brother's mood shifted from anxious worry to annoyance.

"Well, next time just...don't. But if you were here, why did none of the servants see you? I've been asking for you all over the compound."

Celia shrugged. "I don't know. We've pretty much kept to ourselves in here, maybe they just didn't notice."

Her answer seemed rather unlikely to Anna's ears, but there wasn't any real reason to call her untruthful. The Seven Suns was a very large building and the Jhasso's servants were few. Celia shifted her gown and laughed again, an almost distracted gesture. There were dried stains on the hem as though she'd been walking carelessly through the mud. For a once-wealthy family reduced in such a way Anna thought she'd pay more attention to her dresses.

...

"Who is there?" a voice called from within the room.

"It is only Edmund, Father," Celia replied. "We'll be fine here, if you want to return home. Father and I will be busy for some time yet."

"Well, I'd like to speak with him," Edmund replied. "I assume I'm still allowed to talk with my own father?"

He pushed past her into the room. Celia's mouth opened but she said nothing as the three of them entered the office. It was still uncomfortably warm from the fire that sent strange lights flickering over Jhasso's trophies and bookcases. The man himself sat behind that large desk, writing something in a ledger. He set down his quill when they approached.

"Edmund, what is the meaning of this?" Jhasso asked. "Why are you here so late? You should be at home, looking after your mother."

Edmund snorted. "I don't think Mother needs my care. And she certainly didn't care that her daughter was missing for an entire day."

"But I told you, I haven't been missing," Celia rejoined. "It was all just a misunderstanding."

Anna looked Master Jhasso over. He certainly seemed more hale than the last time she saw him, though it would be hard for him to look worse on this side of the grave. His cheeks were still hollow and the darkness was heavy under his eyes, but they sparkled at the newcomers keenly.

"A misunderstanding?" Edmund shot back. "Celia, you've never pulled anything like that in your life, and that time you stayed out till dawn at Lady Folryn's party doesn't count. You ought to know that we'd be worried sick about you. Or at least, _I _would. Mother gave that emotion up, along with all the rest of them."

"Do not speak in such a way about your mother," Master Jhasso said. "She has done a fine job of taking care of the family business during my illness. I do wish I could say the same about you, however. We are very disappointed in you, my son."

"What—" Edmund began.

"You seem to think you know better than your mother or myself," his father continued. "You always had such promise, but lately you have descended into the mode of a self-centred brat. Why can you not help the family rather than spending your time dreaming up wild stories?"

_"Wild stories? _Father, I have eyes. I'm not—"

"Oh, but you do," Celia said. "All that drink is doing things to your head. Mother has just been worried, that's all. There's nothing wrong with her, and if you ever actually talked with her you'd know that. I think you just resent her for not letting you take over in Father's absence. You thought the business should come to you first."

"That isn't true!" Edmund exclaimed. "Why would you even say that? You've been as worried as me!"

"Yes, but I've finally come to my senses. And I wish you would, too."

The girl spoke plainly and calmly, looking at her brother with reproachful eyes. Master Jhasso nodded gravely in agreement.

"Yes. And whilst on the subject, your mother and I feel it would be best if you spent some time out of the city. There is a small monastery near the coast run by Helmite clerics. They have an excellent programme for those suffering from an excess of drink and other foul habits. To spend the winter there would do you well."

"Father, you...you want me to spend the winter at some draughty old monastery?" Edmund stammered. "I don't have a problem with drink! I suppose I have been at it too much lately, but that doesn't mean anything. I'm fine! It's just all this..."

He trailed off and ran his hands through his hair. Edmund had begun to sweat and it looked damp and scraggly. Anna wished she could say something in his defence, but she could smell the sour scent of alcohol on him from where she stood. Finn shifted uncomfortably on the carpet and she followed suit. Their presence seemed almost entirely ignored by the family.

"And how many bottles have you been going through each day, Edmund?" Celia asked. "Renseo wanted to take the keys of the wine cellar off you."

"It isn't _that _much," he cried again in defence. "And it's only cheap plonk. It's not as though we couldn't afford—"

"That is beside the point," Master Jhasso interrupted. "And this matter is not up for discussion. You will return home and pack your things. I will arrange for a carriage to take you to the monastery in the morning."

"No, you will not!" Edmund bellowed. "Father, I am not a drunk, and I am not a boy. I know what's been happening here! I'm not a fool, I have eyes!"

A dead silence fell in the room and the air felt heavy. His proclamations seemed to fall on deaf ears, and Master Jhasso just looked at his son calmly.

"Indeed. And what exactly do you think is happening? Enlighten me."

"I...I don't know," Edmund gasped.

He collapsed into a chair, his entire body shaking. On impulse Anna went to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He shivered at the touch but kept his eyes firmly on the carpet.

"Believe me, my son, I understand what the drink can do to a man," Jhasso said. "It has made you paranoid, seeing enemies where there are only those who care for you. No one is blaming you—these past few months have been a most trying time. But you must take responsibility for yourself now, before it is too late."

"Yes, Edmund," Celia said. "We would all be proud of you. We just want you to be part of the family again."

The young man kept staring at the carpet, his eyes growing red. Anna looked at Finn; she had no idea what to do. He didn't seem to have much more however and just cleared his throat. Suddenly Edmund spoke.

"Alright," he said quietly. "I'll go. But on one condition. I want that elf to have a look at you again. A proper one this time, no interruptions. Do that, and I'll do anything you say."

Master Jhasso jerked and leaned back in his chair.

"That is out of the question. I have no time for such nonsense, and my physician has given me a clean bill of health. I will not have my mind prodded by strange elves."

Edmund raised his head and looked his father directly in the eye.

"Then I'm not going anywhere. And I won't give you a moment's peace until you agree. It's important, Father."

"It wouldn't take long at all," Finn finally spoke. "And our friend is completely reliable, I'd give you my word on that. You wouldn't have anything to be afraid of."

"I am not afraid, young man," Jhasso remarked. "But neither am I keen to open my most intimate thoughts to a complete stranger. I trust you would understand that."

"And I mean what I say," Edmund said. "I'm not going to drop this. Something has been going on in this family—I have no idea what, but I'm not going to let it continue. How is it you just leaped out of bed one morning after being ill so long? And then you act as though none of it ever happened? Maybe you can't see it, but something is wrong."

"We live in a world where priests can resurrect the dead at a touch, and you question my recovery?" Jhasso said, incredulous. "A talented physician can work miracles. It is the drink that has addled your mind, and I will hear no more of this. Begone from here—Celia and I have work to do."

"She never helped you with the work before," Edmund added flatly. "That was always me."

"Perhaps he thinks I am more reliable," Celia said, tossing her head. "And you could hardly blame him."

"Come on, mate," Finn said quietly. "I don't really think there's much else for us to do here."

Edmund remained still for a moment, but slowly rose to his feet. Anna thought he looked entirely drained.

"Alright, we'll go. But don't forget, Father. I'm a man now, and I'm not going to sit back and let this family fall apart."

Jhasso didn't reply. He looked at his son, then took up his quill and began writing once more. Celia stood and watched them leave without even bidding them a good evening. Edmund shut the door behind them and they wandered away down the hall.

...

"Are you well?" Anna asked him.

A grim smile spread over his face. "I am just fine, my good lady. Oh, yes—I am just fine."

"What are you going to do?" Finn asked. "If your father won't see Xan we can't hardly make him."

"No. But I don't need to go through father," Edmund said, thinking. "It's time to go straight to the puppet master—Rieltar Anchev."

"Now hang on," Finn said. He stopped in the hall and took Edmund by the arm. "You go charging into his office and you _will _end up in the river. Don't be daft."

Anna said nothing, trying to ignore the fact that Finn intended to do just that very soon. Edmund jerked and pulled away his arm.

"Maybe you're right, but we don't need to go through him exactly. That blasted healer has played some part in this, I'm sure. And I saw him—I saw him at Anchev's party. You were there, remember? I saw that beady face hiding in the corner, I know it. And I know too he isn't the sort to get on Anchev's guest list. Rieltar must have sent him. He's done something to Father, probably Mother too. If we talk with him we'll get some answers, I'm sure."

Finn's brow raised in surprise. "You think this fellow was at Rieltar's party?"

"He was—I'd know him anywhere. He was trying to hide but I saw him. Perthwaite is his name. And as it happens, I know where he lives. I saw his address on a bill. Come with me, won't you? I need to talk to him."

Edmund's words began to shake like his hands, and they flowed like water from his mouth. Finn gave Anna a hesitant look and spoke.

"We would, but listen. There's no need to go rushing in there tonight. Go home, get some sleep. To be honest I think you're a bit...out of sorts at the moment."

"Well, could you blame me?" Edmund nearly shouted. He looked startled by the noise, then lowered his voice. "But if you won't go, I'll go on my own. How am I supposed to sleep? I'm meant to be shipped off to a _monastery _in the morning. Can you imagine how that feels?"

"I've a pretty good idea, aye," Finn grumbled. "But listen, don't do it. I know you want answers, but believe me you're better off."

Anna thought grimly that Finn might follow his own advice, but she backed him up. Edmund though seemed determined and refused to abandon his plan. In the end there seemed little else to do but follow him; while Anna and Finn communicated only with looks, they both feared some bad end might come to Edmund if they left him alone.

"Will you be alright?" Finn asked her as they left the compound.

His worried eyes ran over her. Anna's lip twitched but she tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"Well enough. Is it far, Edmund?"

"Not too far," he replied, adjusting his hood against the rain.

Anna leaned on her staff as they walked, thankful she'd brought it along. The mist had congealed into a steady rain that soaked into her hood and turned her fingers numb despite her thick knitted handwarmers. A nearby temple's bells struck ten times. Hopefully this healer would be at home, and not tucked up in bed as many people were at that time of year.

As they walked their mission seemed more and more foolish to her—either this man was innocent, or powerful enough to be a serious threat. It worried her enough that she mentioned it to Finn.

"Well, no harm in having a bit of a chat," he replied. "Just be on your guard."

He tried to sound casual but Anna could hear a strain in his tone, and she knew he thought the same.

...

It seemed a moot point regardless as they soon reached the healer's house. It was a modest dwelling, speaking of neither wealth nor poverty in a neighbourhood that reflected the same. Thankfully a light could be seen shining around the edges of the heavy curtains.

Edmund rapped the door knocker and moved back off the step. The door opened rather quickly and a man stood there with a surprised expression on his face.

"Is that young Master Jhasso? This is unexpected. Has your father taken ill?"

Anna regarded the man. He was tall and thin, clearly of a sort for whom regular meals weren't a motivation. He'd past middle age some time ago and his well-trimmed beard was silvery grey. But more than that she couldn't determine—his features seemed to have a strange blandness about them, speaking of nothing in particular. He seemed thoroughly ordinary in every respect.

"Father is as well as can be expected," Edmund replied. "But I am here to speak about him. May we come in?"

The man still seemed rather surprised but he gestured for them to enter.

"Of course, my boy, of course. I was only reading, and having some company would be pleasant on this rainy eve. Please, let me take your cloaks. You will find the sitting room quite warm, I should think."

Slowly they handed over their wet outer garments. The healer's gaze caught Anna's eye and he gave her a warm little smile. It seemed genuine, and she found herself smiling back.

"Please, do sit down," he said, leading them into the small parlour. "Why don't you take this chair nearest the fire, my dear? If you do not mind me saying, you seem somewhat peaked."

He pulled out a cushioned chair for her and Anna gratefully sat down.

"Thank you," she replied, flushing slightly. "I am well enough, sir."

"Of course. But we have not been introduced. I am Perthwaite, as you may know."

His tall frame bowed politely. Edmund snorted and spoke.

"And these are Anna and Finn, two associates of mine. Flaming Fist, don't you know."

Finn scowled at the introduction but he sat in a chair near to Anna.

"Aye, but not here in an official way," he muttered.

"I see," Perthwaite said. "But if you'll pardon me a moment, I will fetch us some wine."

"Don't bother yourself. We'll manage well enough, thanks," Finn said.

"Nonsense! What sort of host would I be? Do wait here. I shall return in but a moment."

He bowed again and disappeared to a room in the back. Anna wondered if the man might be making his escape but she could hear faint sounds in the kitchen. Edmund didn't sit down, instead pacing before the fireplace.

"Why not have a sit?" Finn said to him.

"I'll be fine here," he said nervously.

...

He wiped his brow and continued pacing. Anna sighed and glanced around the room. It was tidy and comfortable, well-stocked with books whose titles she couldn't read. A humble braided rug of the sort old women were fond decorated the floor before the brick fireplace. It hardly seemed like the lair of a villain.

The healer returned promptly carrying a tray with a jug and four pewter goblets. He set it on a side table and began pouring out the wine.

"I have watered it, I hope you don't mind," he said. "You young people have hardy digestions but it is rather late for me to have a strong glass."

"That'll do, thanks," Finn said shortly. He took his goblet but didn't raise it to his lips.

"So, Master Edmund, what did you wish to speak of?" Perthwaite said, settling himself into a chair with a sigh. "It must be serious to call you out so late."

"It is, and I'll get right to the point," he replied. "I want to know what the hells you've done to my father."

The statement fell like a stone. The healer's mouth opened but he forced out his words.

"Whatever are you speaking of?"

"Don't try to fob me off, old man," Edmund hissed. "I know he's not right. Something's wrong with him, just like something's wrong with my mother—and now my sister, too! What the hells have you done?"

"Edmund, please—" Anna began, taken aback by his outburst.

He had stopped pacing, instead standing stiff as a poker with balled-up fists. For a moment she worried he might actually lunge at the old man.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Perthwaite continued. "Your father has made a fine recovery. As for your mother—"

"Don't _lie _to me," Edmund shrieked. "I know you're working for him! You're just Anchev's pawn!"

"Alright, alright, easy now!" Finn said.

He jumped from his chair and grabbed him by the shoulder. Edmund took a step back but his eyes still were like fire. The healer's face blanched for a moment, but he managed to speak again.

"Please, there is no need for hostility. I do not understand what you mean. What exactly do you think I have done?"

"I don't know, but you've done it!" Edmund exclaimed. "It has to be you. All this strangeness started the minute you came into our house. What have you done? Is it a curse? Black magic? What has Anchev had you doing?"

"Your father was ill before I came to your family, Edmund," Perthwaite remarked. "I only came at the request of Mistress Jhasso."

"I know that!" he shouted back.

"Edmund, please, enough of this," Anna pleaded. "If you have something to say, then say it. All this shouting won't help."

"The young lady speaks well," Perthwaite said. "If you have questions, Edmund, I am more than willing to hear them."

"Fine then. Right. How is it my father was practically a zombie one day, then back at the office the next? He'd been bedridden for a month. What did you do?"

Perthwaite tossed his head slightly. "You could hardly expect me to explain all of my healing arts. But your father was a special case. His illness was more of the mind than the body, which is why a simple spell would have no effect. I needed to work with him, to get him to reach that point inside where he could bring about healing. That he responded so suddenly was a surprise, I admit, but it was a thankful one."

"Did you charm him?" Anna asked, surprised.

The healer chuckled slightly.

"No, my dear. But I did use various meditation and deep breathing techniques. I found the Turmish method to be most helpful in his case."

Anna had no idea what the Turmish method was, but she didn't ask.

"Fine then," Edmund continued. "But what about my mother? I've never known her to be like this. She was always so kind...but she's turned into a lump of ice. She's been like a different woman."

Perthwaite sighed and shook his head. "Yes. I could see how much the strain of your father's illness has worn on her. And of course your family has such business difficulties, too...she worried how she might pay my bills, but I made an exception for her. I had a great deal of pity for your situation."

"Yes, _pity," _Edmund said. "But you still haven't answered my claims about Anchev."

"Mainly because I do not understand them," the healer replied.

"Don't try to play dumb. I saw you at the Iron Throne, at that big party awhile back. You're working for him, aren't you?"

Perthwaite's face went dark and his mouth opened in surprise, but unexpectedly he followed with hard laughter.

"Do you truly think I am working for Rieltar Anchev? I can tell you with certainty that I am _not_ working for that foul excuse of a man."

He spoke with conviction but Edmund seemed unconvinced.

"Well, what were you doing there?" he demanded.

The healer drew a breath. "I was there, that is true. But did you never stop to consider that I might have other clients who needed attending? There are more people than Rieltar Anchev and your father in this city. Whatever put such an idea into your head?"

Edmund's mouth clapped shut. "Rieltar, he—he tried to ruin our family. He _did _ruin our family. He—"

"Rieltar took over a struggling business and left you with the dregs," Perthwaite said firmly. "A cold-hearted act, no doubt, but not a criminal one. And he certainly did not hire me to complete the task."

He took a large swallow of wine. Anna thought he seemed almost shaken by the accusation somehow, but he didn't seem to be lying. But then she found it hard to tell exactly what he might be thinking. That strange air of neutrality still hung around him like a fog.

"But why did—"Edmund began, but Finn interrupted him.

"You know, I think we've heard enough for tonight," he said. "I think it's time we were on our way."

Edmund stared at him. "No, it's not. Can't you see it too? He's a liar! He must be!"

"Oh, Edmund," Anna sighed.

He pulled himself away from Finn and stared at them both.

"I don't believe it. You both think I'm mad, don't you? You think I'm just a drunk, too! How could you? You were there, you've seen it all..."

"We don't think you're mad, mate," Finn said earnestly. "Maybe just a bit...worked up. But there isn't anything more to do tonight. We'll talk about it later, alright?"

"No, we won't," he proclaimed. "You just think I'm mad, too. I'm going straight to that elf, is what. He knows, he'll help me. He'll look at Father and figure out exactly what you've done to him, old man. But you're right—I've had enough of this for tonight."

Edmund whirled around, knocking his wine goblet from the mantle as he went. The red stain spilled out over the floor and soaked into the rug but he only gave it a kick for good measure. Perthwaite rose quickly to his feet.

"Yes, I think it best if you leave. We shall speak of this later, I am sure."

Edmund growled something and stormed out the door. Anna rose to hurry after him but Finn took her arm.

"Just let him go, love. We can't do anything."

He picked up the empty goblet and set it back on the mantle. Perthwaite reached down and mopped up the stain with a kerchief.

"Such an angry young man," he sighed. "He feels so lost, so very lost..."

He kept blotting the stain, then straightened up again with a small grunt.

"We're sorry about this," Anna said.

"It is hardly your fault, my dear. But tell me, who is this elf of which he spoke?"

"A mate of ours," Finn replied. "An enchanter."

"Ah," Perthwaite said, but said nothing more. He set the wet kerchief down on a table and turned back to them.

"But I imagine that nothing less will satisfy our poor Master Edmund. If he truly wishes this enchanter to examine his father, I am certain I could convince him to agree."

"Would you?" Anna said, rather surprised.

"Yes, of course. Whatever Edmund thinks there is no skulduggery here. But in truth, he is right to be worried about his father."

"What do you mean?" Finn asked.

Perthwaite shook his head. "He appears to have recovered, but he seems too animated. There is something unsettling in it. I hear he has done nothing but work since leaving bed. I tried to convince him to rest, but he has none of it. Perhaps this enchanter of yours might do some good, after all."

He sighed again and stared into the flames.

"Well, if you're up to it, then I suppose our friend will be too," Finn said, rubbing his chin. "When do you think?"

"There is no need for delay. I shall speak with Master Jhasso tomorrow. Why not come to his estate in the evening? Hopefully I can tear him away from his work long enough for that."

"Alright, then. Well, I guess we'll be going," Finn remarked.

"I'm sorry about all this, again," Anna said.

Perthwaite smiled. "Oh, my dear, you have done nothing wrong. Simply trying to aid a misguided friend. I do hope young Master Jhasso finds his way home all right. But I shall see you tomorrow."

Anna smiled back. In spite of everything she found herself rather fond of the man. There was something warmly familiar in his manner, comfortable and welcoming like the old wool rug.

...

Perthwaite helped her into her cloak and Anna and Finn set off into the rainy night.

"Gods, I'll be glad to get back home. What did you make off all this bullshite?" he asked.

"I don't know," she sighed. "But somehow I can't see that old man being a part of this."

_"Hrm," _Finn said. "He was almost a bit _too_ friendly, if you catch my meaning. But we've got nothing on him for definite, that's certain."

"He's going to let Xan see Master Jhasso. Surely that isn't a bad thing," she remarked.

"I suppose not," he sighed. "But I can't think any more about it tonight. I just want to get you into bed."

Anna smiled and deliberately bumped into him. Finn laughed at the unintended joke and wrapped his arm around her as they made their way home.

...

"I still can hardly believe you have managed this," Xan said from underneath his hood.

"What can I say, we're miracle workers," Finn replied.

Anna drew a breath and stared out the carriage window as the grey city moved by. It was nearly dark and the still-persistent rains didn't help the atmosphere. They'd received a somewhat apologetic note from Edmund Jhasso that morning, saying his father had agreed at last to see Xan. Apparently Perthwaite had proved true to his word.

"Though I confess, I am not certain of what I will be able to find," Xan said thoughtfully. "This whole affair seems to be folding back on itself. The younger Jhasso has clearly become unstable, but that means little. Fools are often talented at finding the truth. But I should at least be able to tell if Jhasso is still under mental manipulation."

"You are certain he was before?" Anna asked.

"Without a doubt," the elf replied.

She sighed and leaned back against the leather seat. Finn sat close next to her, his body warm in the chilly night. He wanted her to stay home and rest but somehow she felt obligated to go. Jaheira's tonic had helped lessen the sharp pains in her stomach but the world still felt blurry to her.

The carriage pulled up outside the front gate of the Jhasso Estate. The grand house was still strangely dark, giving it a haunted appearance. An elderly servant waited for them with a lantern.

"Good to see you folks. The family's waiting for you in the house," he said.

"Is this Perthwaite here as well?" Xan asked.

"No, me lord. He was called out to another patient some time ago."

"Convenient," Xan muttered. "And a pity. I should have liked to speak with him. He seems an interesting man."

"You might say so, me lord," the servant replied.

The four of them made their way into the house. Edmund waited for them in the entrance hall, looking pale in the flickering light. Apparently his departure had been delayed.

"Thank you, Toby. I'll see to things from here."

The elderly servant bowed and disappeared towards the kitchens. Edmund took up a candle and led them into a parlour without a word.

Mistress Jhasso and Celia both waited there, sitting idly on a sofa. A fire was up and a few spare lights were lit, which almost seemed like a luxury in that place.

"Good evening," Mistress Jhasso said. "I am glad you are finally here. Perhaps this will put Edmund's mind to rest at last."

"It's the only thing that will," he replied distantly.

"I am also glad you have finally agreed to this, Madam," Xan said. "I have wanted many times to aid your husband."

Mistress Jhasso rose from the sofa, her head held high.

"My husband needs less aid than you might think, Master Elf. But it is better to have done with it than to hear constantly about it. Please, come with me. Henerick is in his study."

...

She took up a candelabra and led them up the stairs in silence. As they walked Xan spoke casually.

"I do hope your investment has been paying dividends, Madam. Although I know little of the values of property myself, I hear they are not faring so well."

"What are you speaking of?" she asked.

"Forgive me. I was under the impression that you had recently bought holdings in Cloakwood Forest. But my sources could have been mistaken."

She seemed to pause slightly but Mistress Jhasso did not reply. They reached the top of the stairs and she rapped lightly on a heavy door.

There was no response from within. Mistress Jhasso knocked again, calling her husband's name. She tried the lock but it was fastened shut.

"I cannot imagine what this means. Henerick? Are you in?"

"Father doesn't lock his study," Edmund remarked. He knocked heavily on the door. "Father? Father, are you there?"

"Edmund, fetch Toby," Mistress Jhasso said.

"Permit me, if you please," Xan said.

He cast a spell against the lock and the door unbolted. Mistress Jhasso slowly drew it open. A fire was in the grate but no other lights were to be seen. Anna glanced around the room but it seemed completely empty.

_"Oh, Henerick!"_

She nearly jumped from her skin as Mistress Jhasso let out a shriek. The woman dashed forward into the room, running towards the desk. As her light grew near Anna could see what had made her cry out.

Master Jhasso was there, his limbs slumped frozen over his chair in a weirdly contorted manner. His mouth was parted and his eyes were cloudy and dry. A cold chill ran down her spine—the man was dead.

"Oh, Henerick. Oh, no," Mistress Jhasso cried.

Edmund just stood staring at his father's corpse. His mouth hung open as though the words were caught in his throat.

"Let me see him," Xan said hoarsely.

"No. Don't you touch him!" the woman exclaimed. "You won't touch him anymore."

_"Father?" _Edmund said, but no one seemed to hear him.

"Gods—he's really dead?" Finn asked, seemingly unable to take it in himself.

"He is. Oh, dear heavens, he is..." Mistress Jhasso said, running a hand over his brow. "Henerick, what have you done?"

"Arsenic," Xan said, sniffing at a small bottle that was at the man's side.

"Toby had that for the rats in the cellar," Mistress Jhasso said. "Oh, Henerick. Oh, no."

She kept moaning over her husband, speaking words of anguish and love. Her face was contorted in pain but strangely Anna noticed her cheeks were dry.

"Why would he do this?" Edmund said. "Father? Not Father. Please, no..."

His stomach began to heave and he turned away from the others, though nothing came up.

"He has left a note," Mistress Jhasso sobbed.

She pulled a piece of parchment off the desk, holding it up for all to see, then began to read aloud in a shaking voice.

_"My Dearest Lavinia—_

_I beg your forgiveness for what I am about to do, but I can bear no more of this life. I cannot face the guilt of what I have done to you and the children. I allowed our family to be ruined, I allowed the business we built together to fall apart. I squandered the children's future and our own by my ill judgement. I have tried to balance the books, to find some way, but there is nothing. That our good name should be destroyed by my own hand—the shame of it I cannot bear. And that I should be endlessly hounded over it by folk who have no say in our affairs is intolerable. Better to make this my last hour. _

_I know I take the actions of a coward, but I believe you will prosper without my added burden. Give my love to the children, and never forget my own. I pray we will one day be together again, and that your words for me will not be too harsh._

_With all my love,_

_Henerick Jhasso"_

"It was you," Mistress Jhasso croaked. "You drove him to this."

"Now, hang on—" Finn began.

"It was you! You and your constant interference. He was already in despair and you pushed him over the edge. A curse on you, I say! May you never know joy again!"

"She's right," Edmund said, turning back to them. "Why did I ever trust you? You only goaded me on. You could have seen that I needed help, but you didn't. Now it's too late...he's _dead."_

Anna just stared at him, unable to believe his words. Xan scowled darkly and set the bottle back on the desk.

"We did not drive this man to his death. But all the same, I think it better that we leave here now."

"Yes, you should!" Mistress Jhasso cried. "Leave, and never come back!"

"She's right. Get out," Edmund said. "I am done with you."

Finn came to Anna and she clung to him helplessly. Could this really be happening? Edmund glared at them with all the hostility he'd given to the healer the night before, and Mistress Jhasso wiped her dry eyes. Surely this was some sort of bad dream, the fever returned. It couldn't be real. They were in a madhouse.

There was movement at the door and Celia stepped in. She saw the corpse of her father and immediately descended into the same hysterics as her mother. Xan swept away from the desk and Anna felt Finn pulling her towards the door.

"Come on. Let's get out. _Now."_

_..._

There were no parting words of condolence, no offering of sympathy. Anna stumbled blindly down the stairs, past the confused elderly servant whose questions they ignored. Finn threw open the door and the three of them hurried out of the gate into the rain-dark streets.

_"Corellon, vara amin," _Xan breathed.

"What happened in there?" Anna wailed. "Why...why did..."

"I don't know, but I just knew I needed to get out," Finn said. "It was just...wrong."

"Wrong? You do not know," Xan said, almost letting out a laugh. "And I strongly doubt he has taken his own life. Who would sign a suicide note to his wife with his full name?"

"Do you think...Mistress Jhasso killed him?"

The words sounded so strange on Anna's tongue. Petite, proper, middle-aged Mistress Jhasso, a murderer? However much she'd changed, it was impossible.

"I do not know. But someone has, I would swear to it."

"I'll talk to the captain," Finn said. "Maybe the boys could do some sniffing around. If there's been any funny business they'll suss it out."

"And what was wrong with Edmund?" Anna exclaimed. "Why would he suddenly turn on us?"

"For the same reason his sister turned on him," Xan said grimly. "They are cold. They are all...cold."

Whatever he meant, the elf didn't elaborate. They hurried through the blackened streets together, trying to put as much distance between them and that nightmare house as possible.


	84. Dark, Rain and Fire

They didn't get far before the skies opened up, sending a frigid deluge splattering down onto the cobblestones. Anna felt the blast like she'd been hit with ice and began to shake with cold. Finn seemed to notice and promptly steered them into a tavern to wait out the shower.

The small pub was warm and thankfully quiet; the weather must have played its part in keeping stray drinkers away. A few locals sat huddled around their ales but none paid the newcomers much attention. They found a table in an empty corner and Anna gladly sat down.

Finn went to the bar to fetch a round of drinks while Xan seated himself with a ragged sigh.

"What did you mean back there...they were all cold?" Anna asked.

Certainly no colder than herself. She rubbed her wet hands in an effort to get the blood flowing again.

"I...do not know," Xan replied.

Anna looked at him. "You must. What do you suspect?"

The elf drew a long breath and let it back out again.

"All creatures interact with the Weave in unique ways, and my race is more attuned to this than others. But due to my training I have become even more sensitive to this. Humans have a type of energy around them, as do all beings. But theirs...was wrong. It did not fit. Even if they were charmed I cannot imagine what would happen to change that essential fact."

"What does that mean?" she wondered.

"I am not certain," Xan sighed again. "There are many possible explanations. I must meditate on the problem."

Anna glanced over at the bar. Finn was speaking to the landlord, gesturing behind him to something she couldn't see.

"What is that like, then?" she asked. "To see these things."

"It is nothing dramatic. I am unsure how to explain it at all—it would be like trying to explain colour to a blind man. It is just a part of what I am."

Anna pursed her lips, trying to avoid finding an insult in the remark. But he was different from her, there was little denying that.

"What made you choose to become an enchanter then, if you already had these gifts?"

"It is not entirely the same," he remarked. "We elves are a communal race, sharing our thoughts and emotions with each other in a way that would seem remarkable to you. But my skills are...they are different. Let us just say that."

"Different for an elf?" she said.

"Yes," Xan said slowly. "Our communion is based on sharing, on implicit trust. But for one to have the skills to overtake another's mind is considered somewhat...suspect."

He ended in a flat note, as if revealing an embarrassing symptom to a healer. Anna though threw back her head and let out a cracked laugh.

"Does that amuse you?" he said sharply.

"Oh, Xan...I just rather enjoyed the idea of you being something of an elven outlaw."

The elf's face soured and she regretted laughing, but she still chuckled to herself.

"Glad to see there's something worth laughing about," Finn said, setting a tray of drinks on the table. "What's the joke?"

"Nothing really," Anna coughed. Xan likewise offered no explanation.

"Well—mulled wine for the lady, mead for the elf, and strong ale for the bastard," Finn said. He passed around the drinks and sat down. "So tell me, what the hells are we going to do about this?"

"Do you think the Flaming Fist will act?" Xan asked.

"Maybe," Finn said, rubbing his brow. "Or maybe not. If we brought the Jhassos in for acting strangely then we'd have to arrest half the town. If they could look at his body, maybe, try and work out how he died, maybe that could be something. But to be honest, the Fist is a bit...distracted right now."

Xan bit on his thumb, glaring across the room at nothing in particular.

"But Jhasso was a prominent citizen," Anna remarked. "Surely there will be a great deal of interest in his death."

"Which may either benefit or trouble us," the elf said.

"What do you mean?" Finn asked.

"Whatever that note's authenticity, we were named as instigators of Jhasso's death," he said. "The authorities may not end up being our friends in this affair. We should try to avoid stirring up scandal as much as possible."

"We weren't _named," _Finn said quickly. "And my captain would have more sense than that, I hope."

He spoke as if saying it would make it true. Anna sighed nervously and sipped the spiced wine. It was too hot and she felt it burning in her stomach.

"I do not doubt your captain is an honest man," Xan said seriously. "But you must know that there are those above him with less benevolence. This affair goes far beyond one family's tragedy, that is plain. And we do not know how far these roots have burrowed. Great caution is required here."

Finn drew in a sharp breath. "Well. There's other things for us to worry about right now, anyway."

"Yes, and I greatly wish you'd reconsider," Xan said. "Whatever you may think you are under no obligation to help Anchev. I fear this will prove to be a grave mistake."

Finn didn't answer. He took a swallow of ale and stared out over the tavern. He always endeavoured to sit facing the room, Anna noticed—a precaution made necessary by his recent past. Was he really only doing this out of obligation? Obligation for her sake? That she couldn't bear.

"Finn, I don't want you to—"

...

Her words were cut off as a pair of burly men approached the table. Finn set down his tankard and slowly looked up.

"Evening, lads. What can I do you for?"

"You can get the hells out of our pub," one of the men growled. "We don't need your sort around in here."

"And what sort is that?" Finn said.

"Murdering Flaming Fist, that's who."

Anna's stomach went cold in spite of the drink and the feeling spread up her spine. Finn wasn't even in uniform, was he that recognisable? His eyes narrowed but he spoke quietly.

"Sorry you feel that way. But we paid for our drinks and we'll stay till we finish them."

"Like feck you are," the other man said. "Get out, now, or me and some of the lads might be waiting in alley when you go."

"Whatever you and your mates do in the alley is none of my business," Finn remarked. "But we're not moving."

The jest didn't go down well and the man slammed his fist against the table with a curse. Anna jumped as her wine goblet nearly toppled over but Xan spoke.

"You are mistaken, surely. No one here is in the Flaming Fist."

"Forget it, Xan," Finn said.

He rose up, throwing back his chair and drawing himself up to his full height. Hefty as those men were they both stepped back a pace.

"Now _you _can get the feck out of here, right? Trust me, lads—we haven't had a good night, and we're not the sort you want to piss off. Get back to your fecking corner and stay there, or some of _my _mates might be coming around later."

Finn's face twisted and his words were heavy and dark. Anna sat frozen, frightened almost to move. The ruckus attracted the attention of the other patrons and the room fell quiet as all eyes found their table. The men seemed to sense they were on the spot and they rallied.

"Aye? Well I don't think—"

The man gestured to Finn, poking him hard in the chest. The action seemed to break him. Before a cry could escape Anna's lips Finn had the man's arm twisted around his back. He slammed him hard onto his knees, catching his chin against the bar and holding it there. The man let out a sick noise but his friend only stared, taken by surprise at the speed of the assault.

"What you think now, eh?" Finn growled. "Still think your lads could take me? You got no chance, mate."

He drove the man harder into the bar and he choked and spat onto the wood. Anna and Xan leaped to their feet but the man's friend was quicker. He grabbed the tankard and lowered it fast towards Finn's head, sending ale streaming outwards into a brown arc. Finn dashed aside just in time and the tankard found a home against his friend's skull. He groaned and collapsed onto the floor, leaving his mate looking at him in shock.

His expression changed entirely as Finn's fist struck hard against his jaw. In slow motion Anna watched him falling back against a table, turning the flimsy chairs into wreckage as his heavy body crashed down. By now the entire tavern was on its feet. Their faces were angry, some were shouting—how could they get out? A sea of bodies seemed to appear between them and the door. Anna turned to Xan, silently imploring him for help. But then, something happened.

_"Get...away...from...me."_

That was all Finn said, but the words seemed to hit the people like a wave. They drew back from him, almost in terror from the lone man who faced them. Anna could only stare. She looked at Xan—had the elf done something? But the expression on his face told her he hadn't. He too stared at Finn, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

"Go...go towards the door," Xan said.

His words sounded dry like he'd been eating sand. Anna couldn't move. She kept staring at Finn, imagining somehow that something was radiating from him. It wasn't directed towards her but she could feel it like a pulse in the air. Finn stood rooted to the spot, his body physically shaking. The men at his feet almost seemed to be in tears.

...

A pain brought Anna to her senses. Xan grabbed her arm, his long nails digging into her flesh even through her winter woollens. He pulled her towards the door and she tried to stumble after him. She looked back at Finn but he still wasn't moving. The elf pushed her out the door into the rainy night.

"Stay here," he commanded.

"Why, what—what's happening? What's wrong with him?" she cried.

"Just...stay here. No, go home. Return to your home," Xan said.

Anna cried out again but the elf hurried back inside, shutting the door as he went. She stood alone in the empty street, too frightened to move, too worried to leave. The cold rain fell down, soaking her hair and running down her face like tears. She shivered hard and the feeling seemed to quake within her soul.

She wanted to open that door, but somehow she couldn't. She could hear voices inside, loud voices, but she couldn't hear what any of them said. What was happening? The earth was breaking apart under her feet and she could do nothing about it.

The agonising minutes crept by. Suddenly the door burst open and Anna felt nearing to faint. Finn stumbled out, gasping, looking like a man pulled from a sinking boat.

"Finn, what was that?" she said in a shaking voice. "What did you do?"

He leaned against the door frame, staring at her as if he couldn't process her words. Xan emerged behind him and drew up his hood.

"Never mind that," he said. "Go, the pair of you. Go home. I shall deal with this here."

"But what are you...?" Anna began.

"Did you not hear me speak?" Xan shouted. "I said _go."_

Anna was almost as frightened by the elf's outburst as by Finn's. She took her husband's arm, trying to peel him off the door. He groaned and stumbled towards her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"Finn, we need to go," she croaked.

_"Right...right."_

She pulled him out into the street with all the force she could muster. Finn stumbled along after her obedient as a dog. Anna glanced once more over her shoulder. Xan had disappeared into the tavern and again shut the door.

The cold of the rain seemed to bring Finn slowly to his senses and he straightened up as he walked. He glanced at Anna but she said nothing. All she wanted was to get back home.

"Anna, I..."

"Not now," she whispered.

Everything around her was a blur. A strange, sick fire burned inside her, tingling along her nerves and heating her brain. At last their gate appeared out of the night. Anna knocked hard, not even seeing who let them inside. She and Finn stumbled up the stairs into the darkness of their chamber.

"Oh, gods," Finn groaned.

He collapsed backwards onto the bed and the slats protested loudly against his weight. Anna fumbled to light a candle but somehow she couldn't remember the spell. How could she not remember that? The most basic of cantrips... Instead she had to draw up a coal from the ashes of the fireplace to set the taper alight.

She set the candle on the table for fear her shaking hands would drop it. Finn stayed sprawled on the bed, hiding his face in his hands.

"What was that?" she finally managed to ask.

"What?" he croaked.

"What do you mean, _what?" _she demanded. "That...that..."

"I don't know," he gasped, pulling down his hands. "I don't...I don't remember what happened."

She collapsed down into a chair in exhaustion. Now that she was still she could feel her illness coming over her again.

"I don't remember what I did," Finn said, almost to himself. "Gods, did I hurt someone?"

Anna blinked at him. There was a tone of despair somewhere in his voice.

"Not badly. There were two men...they threatened us. You fought with them."

"I remember," he said. "Those two bastards. One touched me and I snapped."

"But what happened after that?" Anna repeated.

"I...don't know."

He seemed genuinely confused. Finn kept staring at the ceiling like a drunken man trying to remember last night's debauchery. Anna had no idea what to think. The emotion of the night suddenly took over and she began to sob.

"Are you crying? Don't cry," Finn said.

His voice sounded like a dream. He crawled from bed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

"Don't cry, love," he whispered. "Don't. I love you. I won't let them hurt you. I swear that I won't..."

His words rambled on but they made no sense, past and present muddled into a ball. Anna's sobs descended into silent shaking. She felt like a stranger was holding her. Who was that man? It wasn't Finn. It wasn't the man she married. Nothing made sense anymore.

"I need...I need to go to sleep."

Finn made the announcement and crawled back into bed, boots and all. He sprawled onto the mattress and was still.

Anna watched him lying there while she tried to find a dry spot on her soaked handkerchief. Everything was wrong. She felt sick again, more bright pain tingling along her nerves. What had happened? What did Xan do after they left? She thought of his cold words and shivered.

...

She sat there for a long time, watching as the candle grew lower. Finn slept like the dead, his mouth half-parted and his skin pale. He couldn't remember what happened. He couldn't remember, and she couldn't understand.

But suddenly Anna remembered something. Another teary conversation, one that seemed so long ago. Imoen crying. Telling Anna how her brother attacked a man in a blind rage—he nearly killed that guard, but he couldn't remember. He didn't remember it happening.

Without thinking Anna rose up and blew out the candle. She left Finn to his sleep and drifted down the stairs, giving only half-answers to her neighbour's questions. But he opened the gate and she swept out into the rainy night.

Nothing was real now. The night wasn't real, the dark buildings part of a dream. The few strangers she passed were all ghosts, and her own feet barely touched the wet cobblestones. She hardly felt the cold drops that sunk into her wet cloak and bit into her skin like tiny teeth. She needed to know. She needed to know, and only one man could answer her.

The door to the Golden Hind was locked but Anna pounded insistently until the landlady opened it up. The proper matron stood surprised in her nightcap and shawl, but she let Anna go in. Not that she would have heeded the landlady if she tried to stop her. Her feet were silent on the carpeted stairs, silent in the hallway. Anna knocked hard on a familiar set of doors and waited.

Her fist shook from cold and nerves. She thought to knock again, but she knew he was in there. At last the door opened and Xan regarded her darkly.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I want to talk to you," she stammered. "I need to know."

Anna brushed past the elf into the warmth of the sitting room. Faced with the heat of the fire her frozen body shook.

"Have you walked all the way here?" Xan asked. "Your face looks nearly blue."

Anna realised that her cloak was dripping onto the fine carpet. Its soaked woollen weight bore heavily onto her shoulders, dragging her down into the floor. She undid the clasp and let it drop carelessly onto the sofa.

"I don't care. I need to know. What happened at the tavern?"

"This is not a time for discussion," Xan replied, lifting up the wet garment before it could damage the velvet. "I shall call for a carriage and you will leave, now."

"No, I will not!" Anna exclaimed. The sharpness of her voice cut through the air painfully. "I will not leave. Not until you tell me what happened."

"I do not wish to discuss it," the elf repeated.

"Well, I do!"

She grabbed at his sleeve but he jerked away in surprise. Anna collapsed down onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, Corellon," Xan sighed. "Here, take some wine and steady yourself. But after that you will leave."

He fetched her a goblet but Anna could hardly see it. Her hands shook and the red liquid spilled out onto the carpet.

"What did he do?" she asked again.

Xan sank into a chair opposite her and dug his fingertips into his brow.

"You could not feel it?" he said. "That...vibrating off him. A force. Not a spell, something...inherent. I have never known anything like it."

"But what was it?"

"Do you expect me to explain that?" he snapped. "I do not know. How could I? I have only tried to work that out since you freed me from my prison."

"What...why..."

"Don't tell me you are so blind," the elf said. He suddenly snapped to animation and began pacing the room. "You must know. You _do _know. What is it you so tried to hide? You were afraid. You are afraid now."

...

Anna's hands shook again. The goblet fell from her grasp, staining the rug in a patch of red. She made a short noise in her throat but let it lay.

"How can I not be?" she whispered.

"And yet you ever drew yourself closer to him. A moth to a flame, and just as much a fool."

"Don't speak to me that way!" Anna cried. "I am not a fool. I love him, and that isn't wrong. Finn is a good man."

That sickening heat rose up again. What was happening? So many things dormant for so long, rising now like a dark spring brought forth by the rain.

Xan snorted. "Then tell me. As you so demand answers, let me pose my own questions. What has he done before this?"

"What do you mean?" she hesitated.

"Oh, don't begin again!" the elf said. "You know well what I mean. The mines. Have you forgotten? Your hand should have been turned into dust from disarming that ward, yet you were not even singed. Finn was the only one near you. He healed you, didn't he?"

Anna shook and looked away, rubbing at her tell-tale hand.

"I thought as much. But I never knew _how__. _Something is wrong with him, Anna. He is dissonant, like a bell striking the wrong note. He is out of tune with everything around him and it only grows stronger. But I never feared him. Not until tonight."

Anna's lip trembled at the revelation. Xan kept pacing, muttering something to himself in his own language. Why was he so angry? She was the one who hurt. Then she remembered the people in the tavern. They would know, they would tell.

"What are we going to do?" she moaned. "Finn is already in enough trouble...and now..."

"What are _we _going to do?" Xan said, suddenly whirling on her. "There is no _we._ I have done it already. Do you know what I was forced to do in that forsaken hole? I blotted it from their memories. I took over their minds. They will remember nothing, just another bar brawl. I...you made me do this!"

He clenched his teeth in anger and Anna sat back, startled by his keen temper.

"I defended him, the same as you," he continued. "But not just for him. For all our sakes. We need no more of this madness. A war is coming, and we can do nothing to stop it."

Anna wavered on the sofa. She felt a heat rising from her chest. Everything was wrong. Nothing made sense anymore.

"But you must leave. You cannot stay here any longer," Xan said.

"Why? What have I done?"

The question made no sense. Its meaning was hidden. Shaking she rose up only to collapse down at the elf's feet.

"Tell me what it is," she begged. "Please tell me what's wrong with him. I don't want anything to be wrong..."

She didn't want anything to be wrong. Not with Finn. Anna grasped blindly at Xan's robes but he quickly grabbed her hands.

"Have you gone mad? Do not...!"

She came perilously close to touching his blade but he managed to steer her away. Anna fell backwards, nearly limp onto the carpet.

"Just tell me, please..."

"I do not know," Xan groaned. "Corellon help me, but I don't."

Pain washed over her. Cold, and heat. The fire made her sweat but it covered her skin like ice. Xan reached down to feel her brow and his palm burned like a brand.

"The fever has returned. You should not have been..."

Anna didn't hear what else he said. The fire was mesmerising, dancing like an exotic woman in the grate. Like the dancing girls at Anchev's party. For a moment she saw him towering over her, his face curled into that little smile.

...

_"What is the matter with her?"_

Voices. Exotic voices. A woman leaned over her, but she was no dancer. Keen blue eyes, blue as the sky.

_"She is in a fever delirium. Although I fear it is as much nervous exhaustion as illness."_

That voice Anna knew. It droned slowly in her mind. She opened her eyes wider. Three figures stood over her. Two men and a woman. She recognised the woman now. She had seen her before.

_"She cannot stay here. She can hear our words."_

_"Let me see her."_

The strange man leaned over her. His face was beautiful, but cold as a river in springtime. He touched her brow and spoke. The mist cleared from Anna's eyes and she groaned.

"Xan, what...?"

"You collapsed," he said grimly.

She was lying on the sofa, her dress clinging to her with sweat. Anna looked at the three pairs of keen eyes that regarded her and shifted painfully.

"But she has recovered. Send her away now," the woman spoke.

She looked at Anna as though she were a tramp that somehow found her way upstairs and passed out in the room. Xan let out a sigh.

"I cannot, Luedre. She is ill—"

"Then let her be ill somewhere else. We have business to discuss, and the night grows short," the elven man said.

His words were even more cold than the woman's. Anna's feverish mind began to grow frightened.

"I haven't done anything wrong," she stammered. "I'll leave."

Why did she say that? _Had_ she done something wrong? She couldn't remember. Her brain wasn't working right. She tried to rise and rolled straight onto the floor.

"Oh, Seldarine—"

_"Xan?"_

The blow made her jaw rattle. All she could see was firelight and elven feet.

_"She needs rest, melamin. That is all. Send her home."_

The company had lapsed back into Elvish and Anna looked at the woman. What had she called Xan? _Mellonamin? _

_"Perhaps. Perhaps it is a kindness. Look at me, Anna. Rest now."_

She did look. Xan was leaning over her. Eyes grey as the sea under cloud met hers and she felt herself sinking. She wasn't afraid—the sea seemed welcoming. It washed the fever from her brain, replacing it with a calm coolness. Anna gladly sank deeper, down into a silent darkness.

...

She opened her eyes to light. A soft daylight, sun filtered through the old curtain. Anna felt almost like a newborn babe looking at the world for the first time. The stained walls, the cracked ceiling, the battered wool blanket, they all seemed new. It didn't trouble her, but she wondered.

She felt a warmth next to her and turned. Finn lay there asleep, lost in a dream of his own. Her motion broke him from his rest though and his eyes blinked open.

"Hello beautiful," he said, his mouth curling into a tired smile.

Anna smiled back. She curled up against him and he pulled her close. She nuzzled his tunic and drew in his scent, feeling warm and happy.

"What hour is it?" Finn said vacantly.

Anna had no idea. The golden sun that peeked around the curtain's edge spoke of afternoon, but the time meant little to her.

"Oh, feck's sake!" he suddenly exclaimed.

Finn released Anna and bound from bed, hunting around for his uniform.

"How did we sleep so late?" he asked. "Hells, the captain's going to have me in the stocks for sure."

"I don't know," she replied. "I don't...I don't remember going to bed."

How _did _she get in bed? She tried to remember the night before but only vagueness came to mind.

"Me neither," Finn said, slipping into his mail. "But it wouldn't be the first time. I might be back late tonight, love. I'm sure the captain will have something planned for me for sleeping in."

He gave her a peck on the forehead but Anna still felt strange.

"I don't feel very well," she said.

Finn gave her a worried look.

"You do seem awful pale," he said, running a hand over her cheek. "Just rest up today, aye? Have a long sleep, it'll do you good."

Anna tried to give him a smile. Finn kissed her properly, then took up his sword and hurried out the door. She glanced around the silent room. Her cloak was hanging from a nail on the wall and her dress was folded neatly on a chair. That puzzled her. She never folded her dress, preferring to drape it out to keep the wrinkles at bay. And Finn was never one for folding clothes, that was certain.

She was about to rise from bed when she heard boots in the hall. The door opened, and she looked up in surprise as Finn stepped back in. He stared at her strangely, a worried look on his face.

"I just remembered—Jhasso is dead."

She remembered it too, and it came to her hard as if seeing that man's corpse for the first time.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I...don't know."

He kept standing in the doorway, his eyes focused on nothing. At last Anna sighed and spoke.

"You should go. You don't want any more trouble with the captain."

"You're right," Finn said, jerking himself out of his reverie. "Well...I'll see you."

He gave Anna another quick kiss and departed once more. With a groan she slipped from bed and drew on her folded frock.

...

She still felt remarkably weak and trembly. Anna had felt that she was on the mend but an illness such as hers would take time to get over. Annoyingly she'd developed a cough as well and it rattled her strangely tender ribcage. She brewed up an infusion of dried hyssop to help with the cough, and the vague fever she seemed to have. Anna sipped at the pungent herb and sat at the window, quietly looking out over the city.

She tried to remember the night before but it was like trying to remember a dream. Certain pieces didn't fit. She remembered the Jhasso's clearly enough—that nightmarish place, their hurried flight—but little after that. The rain she remembered. How cold it had been; little wonder she'd taken ill.

But what else? She could remember walking. Darkness. Rain. Fear? There was something in the night. Some monster. Something, hiding in an alley, waiting for her to pass by. Anna shivered slightly. Somehow, she didn't want to remember.

The afternoons were short at that time of year but Anna felt the need to do something with hers. She pulled on her long woollen hose and thick underskirt, squirming uncomfortably against their itchy touch. Her cloak was still damp so she wrapped her shawl underneath. Slowly she made her way out the door and into the bright city.

Anna kept her hood up in spite of the moderated weather—she had little desire for a repeat performance of the one at the market. Once out of their own neighbourhood though she managed to relax slightly, but only just. The streets were crowded but they all seemed empty to her. More than anything she didn't want to be alone. She wanted a friend.

The walk to the Temple of Helm was a long one but she managed it somehow. She hadn't seen Ajantis since her recovery. His words for her then had been brief, but happy. The knight had said something about preparing to go back south. In her own selfish way though she wished he would stay. The quiet servant of Helm was like a pillar in a storm, always so calm and strong no matter the tempest around him.

...

Fortunately a priest told her Ajantis was in. She found him this time in a small common room used by the clerics. The grey walls were plain as anywhere in the temple but the fireplace kept the room pleasantly warm. Ajantis sat in a chair by the fire. He rose up from his book in surprise at her entrance.

"My lady? I am glad to see you. But I hope the walk here was not too strenuous?"

Her face must have told more than she liked, Anna thought. She'd been startled herself that morning by the spectre who faced her in the glass.

"It was fine," she replied, then promptly broke into a coughing fit.

Ajantis' brow raised. "I see. If you would permit me, the priests keep a herbal wine that would benefit your cough."

Anna smiled through her handkerchief. "Yes, thank you. That would be very nice."

The knight set off to the kitchens and quickly returned with the draught, and a plate full of simple oaten biscuits. The wine was pungent but not unpleasant, the sort of thing that Maya would brew for the winter's ailments. Anna thought of the housekeeper and sighed.

"You are recovering well, I hope?" Ajantis asked.

"I'm better," she said. That at least was no lie.

"I am glad. I had meant to call on you, but I thought to let you gather more strength first."

"You may call whenever you wish. But have you...made any more plans?"

Ajantis looked rather sombre and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. I plan to leave before this tenday is out. I can do no more here, and it is becoming clear those of my nation are little welcome in this city."

Anna felt startled; somehow she hadn't thought of him leaving so soon.

"Why, have you faced any trouble?"

"No, thank Helm. Nothing direct. But there are always whispers, my lady. I hear the rumours about Amn. Even my fellows in the temple are not immune to such gossip, and it saddens me. I still cannot believe my nation would desire war, whatever the signs might seem to suggest. Something is rotten. Some foul hand is guiding these things, but I cannot determine whose."

He ran a hand through his thick red hair, shaking his head in anger.

"Rumours are worse than the truth," Anna remarked. "They are always easier to believe."

"By those of weak minds, aye. But Helm help me, I cannot fight this anymore."

Anna glanced at him. A paladin who could no longer fight was a sad thing, indeed. She thought Ajantis looked older than his years, sitting with his broad shoulders almost hunched as he gazed at the fire. But then they all did anymore.

"Finn still wants to help Sarevok Anchev," she whispered.

Ajantis pursed his lips. "I understand his debt, but there is little honour in aiding a criminal. I wish he would reconsider this thing. No good can come of it."

"Xan thinks the same," she said idly. But did he? She tried to recall the elf speaking those words, but she couldn't remember if she'd dreamed them or not.

"Any person of sense would," Ajantis replied. "I only hope he does not have you accompany him."

"I couldn't leave him to face that alone," she said. "I will go with him."

"Then forgive me, my lady, but it is his masculine duty to bar you from any such thing."

Anna laughed slightly—she could little imagine Finn using his masculine powers to bar her from anything. Ajantis was a good man at heart, but she was glad her husband wasn't from Amn.

"But if you are to go, then I will as well," he continued. "I would see you have all the aid possible."

Anna looked up, surprised. "You could not. What if we were caught? You are from Amn..."

"And Finn is in the Flaming Fist. That is little better. But we must all face what is to come."

...

That was quite true, she thought. They fell silent and Anna looked around the room. The sun shone in through the west-facing windows, colouring the bare stone floor in gold. A few dappled lights of colour mixed in from the heraldic arms worked into the leaded frames. Crests of the temple's patron families, no doubt. One though stood out painfully bright—an arc of seven suns.

"Have you heard the news of Henerick Jhasso?" she asked.

Ajantis' face fell.

"Yes. I heard this morning. The Jhassos are active in the temple here, and his widow called to arrange his funeral. Or were active, I gather—they have paid their faith little public heed lately."

"It appeared to be a suicide, but we aren't so sure," Anna said. "Finn had hoped that his captain would investigate."

"If he is, then he must investigate quickly," Ajantis said. "Jhasso is due to be cleansed even this very afternoon."

Anna felt alarmed. "So soon? Is that typical of your faith?"

"In the height of summer bodies are usually cleansed as soon as possible," he said. "But there seems little need for that now. And his death was so sudden, one would think the preparations for his funeral would take longer."

"Not to mention Jhasso was a well-known man. Many in the city would have attended, no doubt."

"Yes," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I did not speak with her myself, but his widow seemed intent on nothing more than a small family affair. Perhaps they intend a public service later, when their grief is not so keen."

Anna's mind was racing. The Helmites usually cremated their dead. If Jhasso was 'cleansed' as Ajantis said there would be no proof of how he might have met his end.

"Where...where is he now? Is he in the temple?"

"Yes, in the vaults," Ajantis began, but stopped. "But, Lady Anna, you cannot think to—"

"We could see him," she said, breathless. "That is all. Surely it is no sacrilege? What of the priests? Did they prepare his body?"

"The body is washed, true, but, I—"

"Then let us speak with them," she begged. "That is all. They see so much death—if his end seemed suspicious they might know. Please, Ajantis. You know I would never ask such a thing, but this is important."

"They would be keeping vigil," the knight hesitated. "But perhaps...you are correct. If the man was murdered it must be known. Come with me."

...

In silence Ajantis led her from the room. They went down narrow halls to a heavy door set in the end of a corridor. Ajantis tugged and drew it open. A stale, cool scent came up from within, sending Anna into another fit of coughing. A twisted staircase led down into torch-lit darkness.

The vaults were even more sombre than the temple above. The air was cold and dry, lifeless. Sealed alcoves bore the names of people who died long before Anna was born. Ajantis kept them walking past a number of side-chambers till he reached an open door.

The knight stepped quietly inside but Anna remained in the hall. Heavy candles surrounded a bier that was set before an altar. A faint chill ran down her spine looking at the shrouded figure it held.

Two priests kneeled before the body, chanting together in quiet prayer. Their words echoed strangely against the stone walls like disembodied whispers. Ajantis remained still. After a few minutes one of the priests seemed to notice his presence, and he rose to speak with him.

"What is it, my brother?" he asked. "Is this lady a relative of the departed, come to join the vigil?"

"No, brother," Ajantis replied. "She has...an unusual request."

Quietly the knight explained her suspicions. The priest seemed surprised and ushered them both into the passageway.

"I cannot allow you to see the body," he said. "You are neither relation nor a representative of the law, and I will not allow Master Jhasso's vigil to be interrupted for anything less. But since you asked...the man did seem to die of poison. The discolouration of the body and the contortion of his limbs suggests that. His widow told us he had been driven to despair, and little I saw would suggest otherwise."

Anna deflated. She felt foolish, and guilty for interrupting the priests on their sacred duties. She let out a nervous cough and spoke.

"Was there...nothing then? Nothing at all?"

The priest bit his lip. "His death seemed as his widow said. Perhaps he did not willingly take the poison, but there is nothing to suggest so. But one thing I did mark as strange. The man had a number of small cuts on his hands and arms. Not fresh, mostly healed. And forgive me—they seemed like rodent bites."

"Rodents?" Ajantis asked, surprised.

"Yes," the priest said. "As an act of charity we give final rites to those too poor to afford a funeral, and sometimes they are unfortunates who have lived their lives on the street. And often the rats find them before anyone else...but there is no need to speak of such things in detail."

Anna's stomach turned. Rats? Where would Jhasso have taken rat bites? Mistress Jhasso said something about rats in their cellar, but she could not see how the master of the house would be so directly involved in their removal. No sensible person would want to risk catching the fever they carried.

"Was there nothing else, then?" Anna asked.

"I am afraid not, and if there were any such suspicions we would have reported them to the Flaming Fist. But if you will excuse me, I must return to the vigil."

He bowed to them and kneeled before the corpse once more. Anna stood for a moment watching the silent scene. Whatever secrets Jhasso had it seemed he would carry them to the grave.

"Come, Anna. Let us be away from here."

Ajantis laid his hand delicately on her shoulder. She squeezed it back, and together they made their way back up the steps, back out into the living air.

"I don't know what to think," she said quietly.

"Nor I," Ajantis sighed. "But I do not know what else we could do."

"Is it strange, that the Jhasso family was not at his side?" she said.

"That is true," he remarked. "It would seem the most appropriate place for a mourning family, especially as his vigil will be so short."

Anna paused to cough again into her handkerchief.

"When is the funeral?"

"At the fourth hour, I believe. Not long."

"Perhaps I will stay, then...just to give Mistress Jhasso my respects."

Ajantis gave her a look. "I do hope you have no plans to interrupt a funeral, my lady."

"Of course not. But I...would like to stay."

"If you must," he sighed. "Let us wait in the temple, then. We will be most likely to see her that way."

...

They found a seat together in the back of the benches. They sat in silence, listening to the quiet noises of a large temple in the afternoon. The murmured devotions of worshippers who passed through, the sounds of hidden footsteps, even the brief laughter of a priest came to her ears. A man came and delicately wiped down the massive suit of armour on the altar, making sure no impious dust tarnished its radiance.

Anna fidgeted and tried to restrain her coughing, which sounded like an echo of thunder in that place. Ajantis looked at her in concern but he said nothing. They sat like children together, hushed and still. Very slowly it seemed the sunlight moved across the floor.

At last a bustle near the entrance caught their eye. A figure in a black gown entered, her face covered in a veil. Flanked on either side of her were Edmund and Celia, each dressed in normal attire.

Anna and Ajantis stood up. The family walked swiftly down the centre aisle, almost not noticing the pair as they passed. Suddenly though the vision in black paused.

"What are you doing here?" Mistress Jhasso's voice hissed from underneath the veil.

She lifted the gauzy black from her eyes and glared at them. Edmund and Celia remained silent.

"Forgive me, Mistress Jhasso," Anna replied, using her most formal tone. "We did not wish to interrupt your grief. But we did wish to offer you our most sincere condolences on your husband's death."

"You would," she began, but surprisingly a flicker of a smile passed over her face. "But I accept your condolences. There is little point in dwelling on the past now. Since you are here, you may as well join us for Henerick's service."

Anna hadn't expected that. She looked at Ajantis and he nodded.

"If you would like, Madam, we would be honoured."

Mistress Jhasso nodded her head graciously. The trio said nothing else and continued down the aisle. Anna and Ajantis trailed after them, slipping in behind as a priest directed them to a small chapel off from the main temple. It had evidently been built for the purpose; what seemed like a large fireplace stood at the front of the room, filled by a neat pile of logs.

The family took their seat on the front bench but Anna and Ajantis sat some ways behind. After a few minutes a gong was struck and they all rose to their feet. Four priests appeared, carrying the shrouded body of Henerick Jhasso on their shoulders. They laid him delicately on the logs and the head priest began conducting the rites.

...

Anna heard little of what he said. She did her best to stifle her coughing while watching the family in front, strangling herself into her handkerchief. Their heads bowed but they remained still, and if they were crying Anna couldn't tell. Mistress Jhasso stood like a great crow, framed on either side by Edmund in emerald and Celia in sapphire blue.

The priest took up a flask and from it poured oil onto the body. He then handed the vessel to Mistress Jhasso. She stepped forward and sprinkled her husband's corpse with oil.

"Come," Ajantis said quietly. "It is tradition."

Surprised she let him lead her to the altar. Celia and Edmund did their part—he splashing a quick burst and she scattering a few delicate drops. Then Ajantis took the flask, spreading the oil in a practiced motion as he spoke a low prayer. He passed it to Anna and she hesitated.

She wanted to speak, but there was nothing to say. She could not even think of a prayer for the dead. The priest watched her expectantly, the Jhassos impatiently. She looked to Ajantis and he gave her a quiet smile. In a quick motion she sent a spray of oil dashing out from the nearly empty flask, staining Jhasso's white shroud in shining liquid.

The priest took the flask from her and they all stood back. With a booming invocation to Helm his hands caught alight, wrapped in an unearthly fire. He laid them on the wood and the oil smoked and burst into flames. They crept higher, their greedy fingers fast reaching the shrouded figure on the pyre. The shroud turned to ash and Anna had to lower her eyes.

"If this is done, I want to leave," she whispered.

"Yes, let us be away," Ajantis replied quietly. "He is in Helm's care now."

She looked up at him standing tall before the altar. The red flames reflected in his hair, making it seem for a moment as if he too was alight. It bounced off the Jhassos, setting their eyes glittering as they steadily watched the flames. Ajantis took her by the arm and they left the pyre behind them.


	85. Setting the Stage

"A drier eye at a funeral I have never seen," Ajantis remarked as they made their way back into the main temple. "Even the most hardened warriors show their sorrow for the dead."

Anna said nothing. For some reason she recalled a gossip of Maya's about a young widow who could scarcely keep a straight face at her much older husband's funeral. Although somehow she couldn't imagine Mistress Jhasso smiling at the prospect of inheriting a good quarter section and twenty head of prime milk cows.

"Are you returning home now, my lady?" Ajantis asked.

"Yes. Some time in front of a fire would do me well," she said, before remembering where they'd just been.

"I believe so. But if you would permit me, I would like to see you home."

Anna coughed slightly and shook her head.

"That's kind, but you don't need to bother. It will still be light for some time."

"If it is all the same to you I would prefer it," he said grimly. "I feel the need for some fresh air just now."

Anna couldn't blame him. She wandered over to examine the friezes on the walls while the knight went to fetch his outer garments. The stone warriors' grave battles were dramatic, yet uniform. As she waited the chapel doors opened and the Jhassos made their exit, dry-eyed and hurried as when they'd entered.

Ajantis seemed to be taking awhile, or at least she thought so in her state. Now that the Jhassos had safely passed she decided to wait in the foyer. Anna bounced slightly from one foot to the other, staring at the tiles on the floor. The great door opened and she moved aside without looking to see who entered. She was surprised though when someone took her by the hands.

"Oh, dearest, are you here for the service too? I prayed I hadn't missed it."

Anna blinked, staring at a vision of none other than Skie Silvershield. Underneath her neat fur cape she wore a gown of deepest blue, trimmed in crystals and silver braid. She supposed it must pass for mourning attire with the daughter of a duke.

"The service is finished, I'm afraid," Anna replied, clasping her soft leather mitts in return. "But how did you hear of it?"

"It is? Oh, no," Skie exclaimed. "I only just heard myself from one of our maids. Her sister is going with a boy who works in the stables here, and _he_ said that they were holding a funeral for Henerick Jhasso today! Of course I could scarcely believe such a thing, but it seemed too strange not to be true. Neither Papa nor Aunt Deona were home to ask so I just dressed and came here quickly as I could. But it is true, then?"

"I'm afraid so," she sighed. "We were just at the service ourselves. The Jhassos have left already."

Skie had been standing with her hands pressed to her chest, but they suddenly found her hips.

"Well, I can hardly believe! Celia and I have been friends since we were _that tall, _dearest. And her father and mine were great friends, as well. Every autumn they spent a tenday hunting at our country estate! How could they not tell us that Master Jhasso had died? It seems almost _morbid."_

In spite of Lady Skie's dramatics she had an uncanny ability to find the truth, Anna thought grimly.

"I wouldn't take it too much to heart. The Jhassos I think have not been...well recently."

"I should say," Skie replied. "Celia and I were meant to go to the milliner's the other day, but she entirely abandoned me. It was quite boring picking out feathers and trim with no one there to chat with. I penned her a note asking where she'd been, and she simply replied that she'd been otherwise engaged! _Hmph! _That's a phrase one uses for undesirable suitors, not one's dearest friends."

Anna merely nodded, not entirely in a mood to hear about a dull shopping trip. Another fit of coughing overtook her and Skie jumped back.

"Oh, no. Are you ill? I _cannot _fall ill. My debut is tomorrow night, and I would be a sorry sight rasping like an old crow. No offence to you, dearest."

"None taken," she croaked. "But what is your debut?"

Skie's expression grew brighter. "I told you about mine and Eldoth's little project. Well, we finally have it to a state where we can begin performance! We have a lovely evening of song and dramatic sketches planned. I plan to sing 'The Lovers of Manshaka Dunes.' It is somewhat _amorous _in its lyrics but it is simply beautiful. Eldoth believes I carry it with grace. Oh, you and your husband should come! Do say you will."

Anna felt great reluctance but Skie managed to wrangle a half-hearted agreement from her. Lady Silvershield said farewell and swept into the temple to pay her respects, leaving Anna to her coughing in the foyer.

...

Ajantis finally appeared, bear-like in his heavy fur cloak and hat. He apologised for keeping her waiting as they walked down the temple steps.

"I was speaking to Brother Forvis about Master Jhasso's internment. When the pyre has burned down his ashes are to be kept here, not displayed at home for a year as is the usual custom."

Anna frowned slightly and related her own encounter.

"Lady Skie was entirely shocked the Jhassos hadn't mentioned his death. Though I am growing less and less surprised myself."

"A lack of familial sympathy is shameful, but it is not a crime," Ajantis remarked. "And if there were a true crime enacted here I do not know how we could get at the heart of it."

Anna didn't reply; she was thinking about what the priest said. How did Jhasso's body have rat bites? She tried to remember if she'd seen them when they spoke at the Seven Suns, but her memory failed her.

The sun was sinking by the time they reached her gate, decorating the clouds which hung in the thin blue sky with shades of purple and grey. The cold air choked in Anna's throat and she struggled to bid Ajantis goodbye.

"Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?" he asked, that worried expression creeping back over his face.

"No," she said, trying to smile. "I will take some honey when I get in. It's just a cold, is all."

"Very well, then. But do remember me if any...developments occur," Ajantis said.

"I'm sure you will have enough to do in your preparations," she said quietly.

"Nothing so important as this. Do promise me, Lady Anna."

He fixed her with that level look of his, and she could do little but agree. A neighbour answered her knock and Ajantis touched his hat politely before finding his way back towards the temple. She paused for a moment, watching his large brown shape striding away down the street.

Once inside she poked up the fire and set the iron pot over the flames. There was one advantage of their little room, she thought—the thick walls and low ceiling made the place quite easy to keep warm, in spite of the many cracks in the windowpanes. In truth she'd always been surprised there was glass there at all; most of those in the ruined old houses in their neighbourhood had been pilfered for their lead long ago. Anna looked out over the darkening city and silently thanked whatever late noble decided his servants were worthy of fire and glass.

She began slicing leeks for a pottage before remembering Finn's claim that he might be home late. But Anna was hungry and the pottage would keep. It was a remarkable thing to have an appetite again, and she felt grateful for that even through her coughing.

Anna chopped up some bacon and threw it in with the leeks, leaving the mixture to simmer away. The pungent smell soon filled the air and steamed up the glass in the frames. She drew the curtain and sat down at the table with a sigh.

She rested her head against the table and shut her eyes. In the muffled stillness she could almost imagine that she was back home. Maya would tend to the kettle there, leaving her free for her magic or needlework. 'Ladies' work' she always called it, as though the stitching with coloured threads was something limited exclusively to those of higher birth. But then her practical hands rarely bothered with such frivolous things.

Anna never spoke about Beregost with Finn. There didn't seem much point. She was gone, her cottage was hopefully sealed up against the winter, and that was all. Anna could use her remaining gold to buy her way out of the contract with Tom Wentway and her last bit of business there would be settled. Business, but not her heart. She felt like someone had cut out a piece of her.

Slowly her mind drifted over memories of her home. Imoen dancing and laughing at the harvest festival, the merriest of all the maidens. Maya's quick, fat hands as she chopped apple after apple, complaining the harvest was nothing on last year's. Taking Finn's hand and leading him into the trees, the look he gave that sent a thrill through her. A goblet of wine falling from her own hands onto the carpet.

Anna jerked. When did she spill wine? She couldn't remember. The vision refused to hold and she drifted back into her half-sleep.

...

"Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead."

Anna jerked again, though this time she felt arms around her. Finn's breath tickled in her ear and she stared at the lit candle in surprise.

"Was I asleep?" she asked.

"You might say that," he laughed. "You didn't even stir when I came in. Though you'd probably find the bed more comfortable."

Anna stretched out and groaned, but it ended in a cough. Finn stood up and went to the cupboard.

"Bit of whiskey, that's what you need. It'll knock that cough right out of you."

"Oh, no," she choked. "Not that now."

The whiskey she'd bought was certainly medicinal but her stomach didn't feel up to the challenge. Anna rose and quickly stirred the pottage, thankful that it hadn't dried out too much during her sleep.

"Well, I'll have it all right," Finn said. "I could use a drink, me."

"Hard day?" she asked.

"Stable duty," he said ruefully. "I think I'm due a bath tonight."

He did seem rather more piquant than usual, Anna thought grimly. Although with everything that had happened lately she was just glad to see him.

She tried to relate the events of her day while Finn stared at her in surprise, only pausing when he remembered to eat. He drew a breath and shook his head.

"It's bad news, that. The captain said he'd be willing to have a look around, quiet like, but I don't know there's much he can do now. I can't see him bringing in Mistress Jhasso for questioning."

"So that's it, then?" she asked.

Her voice went into a higher pitch than she'd have liked. Finn sighed again and slopped his bread into the pottage.

"Everywhere we go we keep hitting walls. Drives me mad and all. But maybe there's one thing left."

Though he didn't say Anna knew what he meant. She drew a breath and spoke earnestly.

"Finn, I don't want you to go through with this. This Anchev ordeal...it's not good. I just feel—it isn't right."

He glanced up at her. "I've got the same feeling. But there isn't anything else I can do."

"I just don't want you to have to go through with this because of me."

Anna stared down into her half-empty bowl and coughed nervously. Finn looked at her for a moment, then reached across the table and took her by the hand.

"It's not just for you, love. We need to do something. _Anything. _I don't trust Anchev anymore than you do—less, I'd be willing to wager. But otherwise there's just...nothing. There won't be anything left."

"Has anything more happened?" she asked hesitantly.

Finn paused. "Duke Eltan sent the Amnish ambassador home today. Said he was tired of hearing all his lies. The ambassador wasn't best pleased with it, either—threw a whole wobbly fit in the palace. Captain Dessander filled me in but it won't be long before the whole city knows. It's not looking good, Anna."

She swallowed hard. The pottage had gone cold and she toyed with the congealed slop of leeks.

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever they tell me to. Hopefully I can stay in the city and not be sent south."

"Back to Beregost?" she asked.

"Maybe. But listen...if this goes any further, I wish you'd think of leaving the city. This place would be hell under siege. The Cowled Wizards could put up a magical wall and nobody'd get out. For all Amn's spite towards magic they have some powerful wizards. You could go north, to Waterdeep maybe, they're our allies—"

"At this time of year?" Anna interrupted. "I couldn't. Besides, I wouldn't leave you."

"We might be able to scrape together enough gold to pay for a mage transport," Finn said. "But there's a good chance I might have to leave _you. _I don't want to, the gods know, but..."

He didn't complete his thought. Finn's duties struck at her then, sticking in her like a needle. In spite of everything she never really thought of them being apart.

"Well. We'll just...cross that bridge when we come to it," she said quietly.

"Aye."

Anna's throat began to grow thick, but not from her cold. How did it all come down to this? All they'd done, all the blood they'd spilled and bled, and it didn't matter at all. War was still coming. Suddenly Anna spoke.

"Skie told me they're putting on a performance at her theatre tomorrow. I didn't think much about going, but now..."

"That sounds good, aye," Finn agreed. "Be nice to...get out a bit."

She gave him a shaking smile and squeezed his hand. Finn smiled back at her.

"Why don't you get to bed? I'll take care of this lot here. I want to draw up a bath anyway."

Anna didn't argue. She slipped out of her dress and settled into the crackling straw mattress. Finn put the crocks away and went back and forth to the well till he had enough water for washing. He set the water on the boil, then pulled off his dirty clothes and stepped into the shallow tub.

It wasn't deep enough to allow the luxury of sitting so he stood before the fire, washing his body down with a cloth. Anna watched him with sleepy eyes, watching his form glistening in the wet and firelight. Like a statue his body was and she could never grow tired of watching him. Her illness, the cramped room and even the world outside melted away for just a moment. In that moment, watching him move, she was happy.

Finn finished his bath and turned away from the fire to dry. He seemed unaware that she was watching him; likely he thought she'd fallen asleep. The candle was out and the fire alone lighted the room. He slipped a clean tunic over his strong shoulders and Anna stirred. Then he caught her eye, and a crooked smile appeared on his face.

"Still awake, lovely?"

_"Mm," _she managed to reply.

Finn crawled into bed, slipping under the blankets next to her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she snuggled closer into him, aware of his warmth and the clean scent of soap. He kissed her hair gently, his lips tracing across her temple. Anna sighed blissfully deep.

"Night, beloved," he whispered in her ear.

"Goodnight, my love," she whispered back.

Anna caressed his hand softly, and her eyes drifted shut.

...

The next morning she stayed in bed long after Finn had gone. Her cough still plagued her but more than anything she felt tired. She kept thinking of their conversation the night before. Perhaps there was an army marching north even as she lay in the quiet room. Beregost...they would march through Beregost. Suddenly she pictured the little town in flames and she rolled quickly out of bed.

Anna couldn't stop an army, but at least she could be prepared to meet one. She reached under the bed for the well-warded box that held what was left of their supply of gold. The coins were pathetically few but she still held on to a few trinkets, magical items of middling value that they'd scrounged during their travels. Anna had taken them on impulse as they fled Beregost, looking on them as a quick source of coin should they need it. Now she was glad that she did.

After washing and dressing she took her precious trinkets and headed in the direction of Sorcerous Sundries. Yesterday's bright sky had been replaced with high, grey clouds but at least the air was warmer than it had been. The sorcerers' market was quiet, not surprisingly; the caravans had reached their seasonal peak and many of the merchants had departed. Most of the stalls were shut and only a few local merchants remained in the echoing building. Anna was surprised however to be approached by a Flaming Fist mercenary as soon as she stepped inside.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but do you happen to be of the arcane trade?" he asked.

"Why, yes, I am," she replied, wondering why he would ask.

"Then I'd ask you to kindly step over and speak with the lieutenant, ma'am."

Anna stared at him, wondering for a moment if she were in some sort of trouble. But the mercenary seemed friendly if businesslike and she did as commanded. A young officer she didn't recognise sat behind a table with a quill and parchment to hand.

"Afternoon," he said. "As per the edict issued by the Grand Dukes, we're asking all spellcasters in the city to register with us."

"Register?" Anna said. "Why? For what purpose?"

"It's the edict, ma'am. Just issued today."

He handed her a slip of parchment. The head bore the official seal of the city, followed by bold print.

_'Be it known, that as of this day all residents of the city of Baldur's Gate, both citizen and foreign, and who are practiced in the Arcane Art, must report themselves to the Flaming Fist mercenary company for documentation, in the anticipation of the defence of this great city. Failure to comply may result in—' _

Anna broke off reading and handed the parchment back to the man with a shaking hand.

"It's just a formality, ma'am," the officer assured her. "Just the Dukes want to know what sort of magical talent the city has, in case we should need to call on them. Now, if I could have your name?"

"Anna Whitehaven," she stammered. For a moment she nearly forgot.

"And your place of residence?"

"Rosemount House, on Border Street."

The officer ceased his writing and looked up with a grin.

"That's a Fist barracks, isn't it? Are you one of us?"

"No, but my husband is," she coughed.

"Do tell. What's his name? I might know him."

"Lieutenant Finnigan."

The officer shrugged. "Can't say as I know of him. Ah, well. And are you a citizen, or foreign? Not as I need to ask, you don't sound like a foreigner."

"I'm a resident of Beregost," Anna replied.

"Oh, aye. Up in the city for the winter? Now, do you have a specialist school of magic?"

"Yes, alchemy."

The officer nodded and his quill kept scratching away. He asked her more questions about her length of study and her practice but Anna hardly heard what she said. It all seemed surreal. He kept writing after he'd stopped asking questions, but Anna couldn't see what he wrote.

"Right, now," he finally said. "Keep this here as proof you've been registered. Thank you for your time, ma'am."

He handed her a piece of crisp parchment with her name and a few details written on it. Anna fingered the paper, looking at it without really seeing it.

"Do I need to do anything else?" she asked absently.

"No, ma'am. If we need you, we'll be in touch."

The cheery young fellow gave her a quick wink. Anna nodded and wandered away, staring at her paper as though it might suddenly turn into a dragon.

...

She went about her shopping with a strange feeling in her stomach. The merchants were all a-gossip about the new edict but Anna paid little mind to their varying opinions. Dealing with that issue seemed beyond her just then.

After a fair bit of haggling she traded her trinkets for some second-hand alchemy apparatus. Her mortar generally served to grind up herbs for the pot but she needed an alembic and retorts. A calcinator was harder to find but she managed to find a somewhat rusty fellow in a general merchant's shop. She bought components and bottles and fine willow charcoal, though the marshmallow root she purchased was more for her cough than anything else.

Anna carried a few bags of components home but she would have to wait on the rest. She wondered what Finn would say when he saw their little room overrun by her purchases, but she felt some relief at least to be doing something. As he said it was something at least, something.

The afternoon seemed long as she waited for her purchases to arrive. But arrive they did, one after another, till the little room was crowded with spicy-scented bags and crates of bottles and her patient neighbour was entirely fed up with opening the gate. Anna changed back into her work dress and wondered what she should begin first. It seemed forever since she'd made even a simple elixir.

The room was a steaming cauldron by the time Finn opened the door. He stood in the frame for a moment, gaping at the scene.

"Did I get the right room?" he remarked.

Anna glanced up from the table and wiped her sweating brow. The little board was covered in bubbling retorts and blue glass bottles. Bags of components lay half-open at her feet, and some spilled out onto the wood. On the window seat the calcinator burned with a magical flame, searing the ingredients within into a fine powder.

"Sorry about all this," Anna replied, then promptly went to stir the kettle.

"What are you doing?" Finn asked. "I mean, I know what you're doing. But why are you doing it? Gods, it smells in here. Have the neighbours complained?"

He fanned the air in front of his face with a cough. The window was wide open but apparently it didn't do enough.

"I just wanted to do something," she replied. "I can make potions, so I am."

"Alright," he said.

Finn sat down on the bed, about the only free space in the room. He watched her as she quickly tended to one thing after another.

"Any chance there's a bit of tea in one of them pots?" he asked. "Not that I'm sure I'd want to eat it."

Anna gave him a look. "There's cold chicken and bread in the cupboard. I haven't had the time for anything else."

Finn looked vaguely annoyed and her own temper snapped.

"I'm sorry, were you disappointed I haven't been slaving in here all day to make your supper?"

His eyebrow raised. "Slaving? We have pottage every night. And no—I was just wondering why you suddenly felt the need to turn our room into a laboratory. You didn't mention a thing about it this morning."

"That's because I hadn't thought to do it this morning. Do you not think I have a right to?" she challenged.

"What's brought this on?" Finn asked, still surprised. "I never said that. It's just a bit...much. You were at death's door not a few days ago, and now you're running about all manic. And this atmosphere can't help much. You're sick, you ought to take it easy."

Anna tried to give him a glare but it ended in a painful cough.

"I just need to..."

"I get it," Finn said. "But maybe you ought to give it a rest for tonight? How long have you been at this, anyway?"

"Awhile," Anna said. She tapped at a retort, watching the bubbles simmering away. "But maybe you're right. I'll finish up."

"I take it we're not going to Lady Skie's little party, then?" Finn asked, throwing himself back on the bed.

"The theatre!" Anna exclaimed. "I entirely forgot. I've just been...busy."

She looked around distractedly and Finn sat up to look at her.

"You've been worried, that's what. So have I. You hear about this new wizard thing?"

"Yes," she said. She collapsed down next to Finn with a sigh. "I've already been documented."

Finn groaned. "I don't much care for that, but there's nothing to do now. But we don't need to go to the show. Maybe you'd be better getting some rest, anyway."

He caressed her back gently, but Anna coughed and her irritation rose again. If there was one thing she was tired of, it was being treated like a porcelain doll.

"I'd like to go, if you still do."

It wasn't the truth; the bed seemed more comfortable just then than she'd have ever thought possible.

"Yeah, I'd like it. Seems like a bit of a lark. I've never been to a theatre before."

That settled that, then. Anna tried to set her alchemy apparatus away in between bites of chicken while Finn gathered up some more water for washing. She was filthy and covered with sweat, and Finn clearly had been given stable duty again. Although they moved quickly as they could it still seemed forever till they finally found the door.

...

"I hope we're not late," Anna said, keeping her ear open for the temple bells.

"What, will they not let us in?" Finn asked.

Anna herself had little idea. The theatre wasn't an entertainment she'd seen much of in her life. Nothing of the sort existed in the rustic Dales or Beregost itself—the bards performed in taverns or private homes, making a stage of whatever they could find. And though Baldur's Gate sported a few playhouses she only found herself attending once.

Finn grumbled something and tried to adjust his collar. He wore the fine but ill-fitting jacket Sarevok Anchev had sent as nothing else he owned was up to the occasion. Anna though wore her lovely blue velvet, thankful to have another occasion to wear the expensive dress.

The playhouse was on the southern side of town, near to the river. Skie had given enthusiastic if vague directions but they still managed to find it. The Swan was a broad, two storied building situated in a neighbourhood that had little else to recommend it. Light poured out of the windows and a large crowd milled around the doors.

Anna paused; foolish as it seemed, she hadn't thought of so many people attending. But Finn led her on and they blended in with the chattering crowd.

"That'll be four gold, me lord," an usher said to Finn as they finally managed to squeeze inside. He dutifully handed over the coin and they found themselves pushed into the theatre's foyer.

Anna held tight to Finn's arm for fear she might lose him in the mob. It seemed a strange mix of people; young nobles chatted lightly with aspiring dandies and other people of questionable employment. She glanced around but didn't see a familiar face. The theatre doors were open and some people were venturing inside. Finn nodded his head in their direction.

"Do you want to go sit?" he asked.

He sounded rather excited at the prospect, and Anna had to smile.

"Yes, let's. I'd like to get out of this crush."

An usher led them down into the wide space, gesturing to an empty seat. Anna sat down carefully on the wooden bench, looking all around. A horseshoe-shaped ring of seats surrounded the stage on both levels. Up above the better-dressed people sat, and Anna gathered those were the prime seats. The stage was part hidden from view by a large painted scene of maidens and young lords frolicking on an idyllic riverside. It was attractive enough in itself and Anna could have spent the evening just looking at it.

They had to push over twice as more people squeezed onto the bench. Anna found herself wedged between Finn and a large man who smelled strongly of pipeweed and scented oil. She coughed politely as she could into her handkerchief and they waited for the show to begin.

By invisible hands the giant screen moved away and the theatre burst into a startling round of applause. A young fellow in parti-coloured clothes did handstands onto the stage, then began firing off jokes one after another. His antics had Anna in stitches and she struggled to breathe, but she laughed and clapped along with the rest of them. Too soon he bowed and skipped off stage, the bells on his clothes jingling after him.

"That fellow was all right," Finn approved. "But it's not over yet, is it?"

"I can't think so," she replied. "Skie said she would sing."

The audience burst into applause again as two men and a woman strode onto the stage. One of the fellows had a drum and the other a pipe, and they followed the lead of the woman's guitar as they cheekily made their way through a series of ribald songs which were so clever even Anna couldn't help laughing. The whole theatre was hooting and cheering by the time they bowed and made their exit.

"I never knew the theatre was like this," Finn said. "We ought to come more often!"

Anna shook her head—she was a bit embarrassed that he'd taken to singing along with a few of their racier numbers.

"It isn't what I was expecting," she said. "Skie made it sound rather formal."

"Ah, well. What's next?" Finn shouted into the crowd.

He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. The crowd grew more merry with each passing act, laughing and singing along with the bards and letting out 'ooh's' and 'ah's' for the jugglers and acrobats. Entertaining though it was Anna began to wish herself away from the noisy theatre.

...

At last the painted screen came back across the stage and the audience cheered for more.

"Damn. That's it?" Finn said.

"It's the interval, lad," a man next to him said. "They'll be more in a bit."

"Brilliant! How are you holding up, love?" Finn said to her.

Anna gave him a bright smile and nodded. She was more than ready to go home but she didn't want to spoil his fun. It was good to see Finn laughing.

A group of young people worked their way through the aisles, selling roasted nuts, sweets and fruits to the waiting crowd. Finn bought some candied fruit from a girl and they sat nibbling away. Before long a figure stepped onto the stage before the screen. The audience burst into applause, ready for more action, but it died down somewhat when Skie alone appeared.

The Duke's daughter was dressed in a gown of liquid blue, cut in a foreign style, and its long train flowed delicately out behind her. Skie bowed her head slightly, then raised her pale, bare arms and began to sing.

She hit every note crystal-clear, her fine voice trembling in just the right places as she sang of a pair of lovers kept separate by their warring families. It was perfectly lovely, Anna thought, though perhaps a bit too polished for true emotion. The audience fell quiet and listened politely but they seemed restless. When Skie's ballad finally finished they presented the blushing songstress with a moderate applause.

Lady Skie curtseyed formally and swept back into the wings. The crowd shifted, ready for more entertainment, but they received the figure of Eldoth Kron and his sky-high feathered cap.

"Tymora preserve us, who's this ponce?" the man next to Anna muttered.

She didn't anticipate a warm welcome from that crowd, but the bard seemed to know his audience. The serious numbers she'd heard him perform were replaced with tales of boisterous maidens and fearless adventurers as his rich voice rang out into the theatre. His lute skills didn't fail either and he made the instrument sing like two. The crowd clapped along to the steady beat he counted with his boot, and they cheered loudly when Eldoth finally made his exit.

"Why couldn't he have done that before?" Finn remarked, but Anna hushed him. The parti-coloured fellow had made his appearance again. He bowed, then held his hands up to silence the crowd.

"Good ladies and gentlemen, I hope you have been enjoying our little night of entertainment at The Swan." He grinned and the crowd echoed their approval. "But now we have something truly special for your delectation. A dramatic play in two acts, starring none other than the fair Lady Skie Silvershield. And now, may I present to you—_The Evoker's Daughter."_

The audience clapped but they seemed slightly wary, like one presented with a gift they didn't entirely want. The screen moved aside, revealing a set-up of a wizard's chamber. Retorts and beakers bubbled away in a remarkable likeness of Finn and Anna's room. Suddenly Skie appeared from the side of the stage, followed by a man dressed in a grey wig and a wizard's robe.

"I tell you, Eleanora, you will not marry that young man!" the wizard boomed. "He is beneath our station."

"Oh, but Father, how can you say that?" Skie wailed in reply, turning on her wizard-father. "Love raises all it encounters."

"But it does not raise gold," he declared. "And Timero has no fortune to support you."

"Fortune, Father? He is my fortune." Skie threw herself down onto her knees and implored him dramatically. "His hair is like spun gold, and his eyes are blue as sapphires. What should we want if we are together? He is noble of heart, even if his pockets are threadbare."

"You are a foolish child," her father remarked. "And my word is final! You shall marry Zarkoss, a true nobleman."

Skie implored him with all her acting skill, but the wizard gathered his robes and swept off the stage. She threw an arm over her eyes in despair, then rose and spoke loudly into the ether.

"Oh, cruel fate—how can you torture this innocent maiden so? My love Timero is more noble than any son of a king, but because he is of common birth my father refuses to see. Oh, help me to open up his eyes!"

Her speech went on, and Finn shifted uncomfortably.

"Who's she meant to be talking to?" he whispered.

_"Shh," _Anna replied.

"Oh, Timero, if only you could be here now!" Skie wailed.

"But I am, my love. Dry your tears, for it is I!"

A young fellow with flowing blond hair and a green jacket stepped onto the stage. Skie rose quickly and the couple embraced.

"Oh, Timero, Father has refused!" she declared. "He is forcing me to marry Zarkoss. There is but one thing to do—we must flee together! We can take a ship and sail to lands where they will never find us!"

"Alas, my Eleanora, we cannot," Timero said. "For I have ever sworn to be an honest man and I shall not defy your father, even for my love of you."

"Oh, gods," Finn muttered.

_"Come on lad, don't be shy—give her a smooch!"_

The call burst from somewhere and Skie looked horrified, but she kept clinging to Timero.

"And what of your love for me?" she proclaimed. "Did you not promise me first to always be faithful?"

"I did," he said. "And so I shall be. I swear to you now that no other maiden shall ever hold my heart."

_"Ah, bollocks. Don't listen to him, love—he's got three round back!"_

The crowd laughed harder than at the first cry. Timero looked annoyed, but he tossed his golden curls.

"There is nothing else to do, my beloved. You must marry Zarkoss."

"No, my Timero! I shall die first!"

The exchange went on and even Anna found herself groaning. The ponderous dialogue made _The Lady of Brackenfell Hall _seem light by comparison. It finally ended with Eleanora wrangling a promise from her Timero to meet the following night. The couple parted and the screen thankfully slid shut.

...

"Bleeding heck," Finn said, drawing a breath. "What gibberling's arse did they pull this rubbish from? There's no man alive what thinks enough of a girl's father not to run off with her should he fancy her. Mind you, he's probably just afraid she'd never shut up."

"You're right on that one, son!" the man next to him exclaimed.

"You're romantic to the core," Anna said dryly.

"Why, you didn't like it, did you?"

Anna could hardly say she did without lying, so she just coughed instead. After a moment the screen slid over again, revealing a maiden's chamber. Skie-as-Eleanora sat at a desk, penning a letter.

"And forgive me, my dearest of Fathers," she said aloud. "For if I cannot marry Timero, then I must flee our home on my own. I shall travel to the most distant lands and become a cleric, to help aid the wretched and poor. Never shall I marry the despicable Lord Zarkoss."

Suddenly a figure stepped from the shadows on the opposite side of the room. It appeared to be Eldoth, wrapped in a fine cloak.

"What is this I hear?" he proclaimed. "The lady of my desire plans to defy her father's wishes? My pride shall not allow this outrage!"

Eleanora seemed ignorant of her company however, and she continued reading aloud.

"I shall meet with my Timero one final time tonight. Alas, how great is our despair! But our love for one another shall never be broken, even though we are made to part."

"But, hark!" Eldoth said. "A plan does form. If I cannot have this maiden, then none shall. I will end her life here! When wretched Timero appears I will call the guards, and he shall be blamed for her death. None shall make a mockery of Zarkoss!"

Slowly he crept up behind Skie, drawing a dagger from behind his cloak. The innocent Eleanora continued with her writing.

_"Erm, _wouldn't she have heard him talking?" Finn whispered.

"It's a play," she remarked, though her eyes were on the action.

_"Wake up, love!"_

"_Everybody now—HE'S BEHIND YOU!"_

The catcalls rang out again and the audience sniggered. Skie looked positively ill but Eldoth didn't flinch. Zarkoss raised the dagger high, his face twisted in delighted rage. Despite his hackneyed lines Eldoth could act at least, Anna thought. Just before the final moment Skie turned from her desk.

"Oh, Zarkoss, no!" she cried.

"You will die for betraying me!" he shouted back.

"No, please—spare me for love!" Eleanora implored. "Surely not even your heart is so cold!"

She threw herself down at his feet. Zarkoss appeared to hesitate, but in one swift motion he buried the dagger in Eleanora's chest. She groaned loudly, clutching at the blade, then slumped to the floor and was still.

"But how did—?" Finn said, now at last interested. "He didn't really—"

_"Shh," _Anna hissed.

"It is done," Zarkoss said, turning to the audience. "My rage has passed, but now I feel only despair. This beautiful maiden I cut down, trampled like a rose. Oh, my pain! For I loved her in truth, and only ever desired her happiness. But now it is too late—and hark! Is it footsteps I hear? Her lover, Timero, must be approaching. I must conceal myself!"

He dashed behind a curtain, making the back wall wobble slightly. Timero appeared back onto the stage, handsome and golden in his green jacket and tights. He looked around the room and called out Eleanora's name.

"Beloved, are you here? She did say she would meet me. Where could she be—by all the gods in the firmament, no!"

Timero spotted the corpse of his lover, lying patiently still and clutching at the dagger. He crouched down and drew her in his arms, then pulled the dagger from her chest.

"She has been murdered! Oh, foul fate! Who could destroy such a fair light? But there is only one—the wicked nobleman Zarkoss. Only he could do such a thing. But steps approach, who is coming? I can hear the rattling of arms!"

A door burst open on the side of the set, and the wizard appeared flanked by two guards.

"Eleanora, are you safe? Cries were heard—what is this? Timero, holding my daughter's lifeless body in his arms?" he exclaimed. "You killed her because you could not have her! Such an honest lover you were! But now you shall die with her!"

The wizard raised his hands, and sparks flew from his robes to the point Anna feared for the furniture. Timero protested his innocence, but then the curtain drew aside.

"Hold, wizard!" Zarkoss said. "I can bear this guilt no longer. I killed your fair daughter, not Timero! It was my jealousy that was too great! Punish me instead of this honest man!"

He crouched down on one knee, pleading with the sparking wizard. He lowered his arms and the shower of sparks died away.

"No, I cannot. For in fact it was I who killed the fair Eleanora. I would not listen to her protestations of Timero's virtue, and I denied them their love. If only other fathers of this world would heed this tragedy, before it is too late!"

The actors paused, and the scene slid across once more. The audience seemed confused, but after a muttering silence they slowly began clapping.

...

"Seriously?" Finn said. "What a pile of—and what happened to Skie?"

Anna didn't have time to answer. The scene slid back across the stage, revealing all the players safe and well. They bowed grandly before the audience who continued with their moderate applause. Skie stepped forward and bowed alone, but the accolades were few. A boy came out and presented her with an armful of posies, which she accepted in delight. The scene slid across for a final time and the crowd began to rise.

"Glad that's over," Finn said. "If I'd known it'd be like that we could've left earlier."

"It was rather—overly dramatic," Anna remarked. "Though I can't help but wonder if Skie found some particular meaning in this play."

"Maybe you're right," he snorted. "A message to papa? Ah, well. Let's get home. It must be late."

She took his arm and they filed with the others out of the theatre. It was slow going in the crowd though and it seemed to take forever. When they finally reached the foyer Anna noticed Skie and Eldoth surrounded by some chattering nobles.

"We should congratulate her," Anna sighed.

She reluctantly dragged Finn over to where the couple stood. Skie seemed to be talking with four different people at once, not noticing the pair who approached her. Anna began to feel rather foolish standing there but suddenly she looked up.

"Oh, it is you! I'm glad you could come. Although I do wish it had gone better. Such..._primitive _people!"

"Now, darling, I told you to expect such things," Eldoth remarked. "This old hulk is not exactly in the prime area of town. It is a common man's theatre."

"But I didn't _want _a theatre for the common man!" Skie exclaimed with a stamp of her foot. "I wanted _my _theatre!"

"Anything you say, beloved," Eldoth smirked into his wine.

"Oh, don't be a pig!" she said, and swatted him on the arm. "I am going backstage. I cannot tolerate being in this...common area. Do come with me, girls."

Skie drew up her hem and stormed off, followed obediently by several young noblewomen. Anna watched her go in surprise and Eldoth let out a short laugh.

"Now you see what _delights _I am a party to. May the gods preserve us from rich women and their ideas of the common man! But never fear—she will rant and rage for awhile, then be bright as new."

"That was quite the little show you put on tonight," Finn said.

"Did you enjoy it?" Eldoth said blandly. "It was quite the trick to select a programme that blended Skie's tastes with the rabble's. I fear it came off rather unbalanced. It was her idea to put in that dreadful skit at the end," he added. "It was three acts but I convinced her to shorten it. Rather good work on my part, wouldn't you say old boy? Never let it be said that I do not work for the public good."

Finn laughed in agreement but Anna tugged on his sleeve.

"All the same, I believe we should be going," she said.

"Oh, you might stick around," Eldoth said. "We're having quite an old knees-up in the back. Some of this crew know nothing else if not how to have a good time. This party shall long outlast the dawn, I will guarantee!"

Anna felt less than keen about the offer but Finn expressed interest. She sighed and agreed, but resolved inwardly to drag him away after the first round. Eldoth gestured onwards and they followed him back into the theatre.


	86. Whispers

_Happy New Year, everyone! Hope you all had a good Christmas. I meant to have this one up before the holiday but time ran short. Brace yourselves, it starts to get a bit bumpy here._

_..._

They followed Eldoth into the mostly empty theatre, past some boys who were scurrying to clean the debris from the floor. He drew aside a curtain in the back and gestured for them to follow.

"This is quite an achievement here," Anna said, reaching for some conversation. "Was it derelict?"

Eldoth shrugged. "An utter ruin, and still is. It certainly has potential as a source of coin—put on a few bawdy minstrels and lady acrobats and you'll have half the city queuing up to pay. But Skie doesn't quite see it that way."

"I'd have thought you'd be more interested in the arts yourself," she coughed.

Skie had mentioned repeatedly how Eldoth was a prized student at the music college of New Olamn in Waterdeep, and though the name meant nothing to her Anna gathered it was a place of some renown.

"Of course, my dear, in an ideal world. But as a poor bard one learns quickly that 'art' doesn't often fill the tip jar. Food and wine come first—unless of course you can convince certain ladies of your artistry," he laughed.

Anna grimaced. She felt annoyed at Finn too for dragging the pair of them back there—the last thing she really wanted in her state was to spend the night drinking with a lot of strange actors.

The noise of the party filled the backstage area, bouncing off the props and costumes that littered the place Several of the minstrels were playing and a group of actors and other folk whirled around in a reel. Casks of ale and more than a few bottles of wine were lined up along a table, ready for the taking. The fellow in parti-clothes had one of the fruit seller girls pressed up against the table. He leaned in for a kiss and sent one of the bottles crashing down onto the floor, causing the girl to erupt into hysterical laughter.

"Oh, good heavens," Anna muttered. "Finn, promise me we won't stay too long."

"Don't worry. I've got a twelve hour patrol on tomorrow, as usual," he replied grimly. "I don't want to stay out late, but I thought it'd be nice to have a drink."

Anna thought otherwise but she consented to a cup of wine. It might soothe her cough, if nothing else. The wine was surprisingly good for an affair of that sort and she wondered if Skie might have played her hand. The lady herself was nowhere to be seen, clearly off sulking somewhere with her noble entourage. Eldoth seemed unconcerned by her absence and proceeded to entertain a pair of girls with grand tales of something or other.

"Bit of a fun group, this," Finn said. He stood cradling his ale, watching the little crowd as it grew more full.

"A bit wild," Anna remarked.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked.

"No, we can stay."

She spoke half-heartedly but Finn didn't seem to pick up the hint. Anna sighed and resigned herself that she was there for the time being, and she tried not to think of her bed. She glanced idly around while nursing her cup of wine. More than a few young nobles were there, she noted—more of Skie's involvement, no doubt. The theatre was hardly the sort of place that attracted the finer set.

Anna sighed again but the noise of the party carried it away. Finn made no move to mingle and the pair of them stood somewhat awkwardly off to themselves. How could he call this fun, she wondered while regarding the already-drunken actors. She could have more fun without having to guard against someone spilling wine on her expensive dress, or even worse trying to secretly relieve her of her purse.

...

The next moment though she began to regret her wish for something to hold her interest. Anna's fingers clenched on her cup as she noticed a very tall and broad-shouldered nobleman sliding up to Eldoth.

"Oh, Finn—_look," _she hissed.

"What?" he said. "Oh, fecking hells."

What was _he _doing there? The fates never did grow tired of toying with them. She watched Sarevok Anchev laughing easily with Eldoth, his face decorated with that smile of his. Behind him stood his blonde beauty, dressed in rich silk and looking impatient and annoyed with the scene as Anna herself had a moment earlier.

"Let's get out of here," Finn said under his breath.

She didn't need any convincing. But before they could move Eldoth gestured his head in their direction, and Sarevok turned and caught their gaze. He left the bard and approached the frozen couple.

"Well, it is a pleasure and a surprise to see you here tonight," Sarevok said.

He took up Anna's limp hand in a kiss and Finn's eyes narrowed.

"We could say the same for you. Didn't realise you were a patron of the arts."

"I greatly enjoy donating my coin to worthy causes," he replied. "And dear Lady Skie's pleas were too charming to ignore."

_"Hmph," _his companion said. "Though I cannot think of what proper old Duke Silvershield will make of all this. For such a respectable young lady to be performing in such a rough place—why, the entire city will be _talking."_

She sounded rather as if she enjoyed the prospect and a mean little smile passed over her face.

"Ah, my dear Cythandria, there is no need to be jealous over our little songbird," Sarevok remarked. "And we must all have our little projects, wouldn't you say?"

She gave him a cold stare in reply and Anchev chuckled. Anna suddenly broke out into a coughing fit and his eyebrow raised.

"I do hope you're feeling well? I should hate to see a diminished return on my other little investment."

"She's fine," Finn said shortly. "Just has a bit of a cold."

Anna gathered her handkerchief, not entirely pleased to think of herself as Anchev's _investment_.

"It is fortunate that we've met here, though," Sarevok said. "It gives us some time to talk about our business."

"Actually, we were just on our way out. Anna's not feeling too well," Finn replied.

"I am very sorry to hear that," Sarevok said. "This party is rather noisy for one feeling under the weather. Cythandria and I only stopped in ourselves to give the players our well-wishes. We'd be more than pleased to offer you a ride home in the carriage—certainly a more pleasant trip than a long walk through the rain."

"Is it raining again?" Anna asked with a shiver.

"Absolute bucketfuls," Cythandria remarked. "Hideous weather, it will entirely ruin my new slippers."

"Yes, and we would not wish for your lovely gown to become soiled," Sarevok said to Anna. "Do come."

She fidgeted awkwardly and looked at Finn. A carriage of their own would be impossible to find in that neighbourhood, and she hardly fancied another walk in the freezing rain. Finn looked like someone was setting a noose around his neck but he reluctantly agreed.

"Alright then, we'll go."

"Excellent. I'll tell one of these lads to summon our driver—I'm sure they must be sober enough yet for that," Sarevok said. "Come, my dear, let us fetch our cloaks. We shall meet you by the front doors."

He bowed slightly and the pair swept off, leaving Anna and Finn staring after them.

"For the love of—" Finn began. "Well, I don't reckon we could avoid him forever. It's only a ride home."

"Just...don't agree to anything, will you?" Anna replied.

Her teeth were clenched in part to ward off another cough. Finn didn't say anything. He took her arm and they made their way out of the now-empty theatre into the foyer. Sarevok and Cythandria waited for them, well-wrapped against the weather in their fine clothes.

"Our driver is here," Anchev said. "I've instructed him to light the heater. Hopefully we should have a warm trip."

He spoke graciously and Anna tried to thank him, but she couldn't think of an occasion where she felt less inclined to politeness. Sarevok's claims of rain weren't exaggerated though and she paused for a moment before skipping out into the deluge. The driver helped her and Cythandria settle into the carriage, with Sarevok and Finn following behind. The door snapped shut and the carriage began bobbing away.

...

A small brazier on the floor was already warming their toes and it threw a thin light into the carriage. But the curtains were fastened down and Anna couldn't see where they were going.

"Your fellow knows where we live?" Finn asked.

"I have given him instructions," Sarevok replied.

Anna settled back against the leather seat with a sigh. Finn pulled the fur lap rope higher up her waist, almost to hide her from view. She squeezed his hand and listened to the sounds of the horses' hooves and the insistent drumming of rain on the roof.

They were all silent and Anna was thankful; they would soon be home and free from Anchev's grasp. For one night, at least. She began to relax somewhat, soothed by the rhythm of the carriage. If only she had such a luxury at her disposal—the walls were lined in patterned velvet and it even had glass windows. It seemed strange that some men's means of transport was finer than the place she lived, but such was the nature of the world.

"I hear the Flaming Fist had to put down a demonstration outside their headquarters," Sarevok finally spoke. "It seems the people's anger over that incident has not subsided as quickly as they would have hoped."

Anna looked at Finn in alarm; he'd never mentioned a mob. He just scowled and stared into the brazier.

"Yeah, well. I reckon they'll have enough to distract them before long."

"Sadly true. The Duke forcing out the Amnish ambassador was a hard blow. But perhaps there might yet be time to stop this conflict."

Anna glanced up at him. Sarevok's face seemed sincere, as much as she could make out his expression in the dim light.

"What did your father have to say about the death of Henerick Jhasso?" she asked.

Sarevok let out a snort.

"I am not certain he noticed—he has been particularly deep into the lotus of late. A terrible tragedy for that family, no doubt. But I shall do my best to see his widow is taken care of, even if my father has no such conscience."

"You are so very generous," Cythandria replied warmly. "You owe those people nothing yet you have done so much to help them."

The group fell silent again. Cythandria cuddled up close next to Sarevok, seeming almost like a different woman from the sharp-tongued gossip in the theatre. Anna tried to restrain a cough and wondered how much longer the journey was going to take. Surely it wasn't a long trip in a carriage.

At last the bobbing wound to a halt. The rain on the roof pounded as strongly as ever and Anna looked forward to crawling into bed. The driver opened the door and she stepped out, but her mouth fell open in surprise.

"What? Where are we?" she demanded.

Not that she truly needed to ask. The smell of brown water and the ships' masts that penetrated the gloom told her easily enough that they were in the docks. A large vessel stood at moorings on the quayside, its deck lit by a few red-glassed lanterns.

"I don't think your driver's much on following directions, mate," Finn said angrily. "Take us home, now."

"He followed the instructions I gave him," Sarevok said, adjusting his hood against the rain. "I am sorry, but there is someone here whom I'd like you to meet. I feared you might not agree otherwise."

_"Here?" _Finn exclaimed. "You are taking the piss."

"Why, what is this place?" Anna asked.

Even through the rain it became clear the ship was not an ordinary one. It was bound by heavy chains rather than ropes to the quayside, and the drawbridge was covered by a fine carpet which must be thoroughly soaked. A pair of well-dressed guards stood on deck, sheltering as best they could from the rain.

"Not somewhere we need to be," Finn replied. "And I'm not going into some rich man's knocking shop for your little kicks."

"Come now, the Low Lantern is a respectable drinking establishment as any in this city," Sarevok said. "That they feature certain other entertainments is beside the point. I have a private suite reserved to keep us from prying eyes. My driver shall take you home if you wish, but I do pray you to indulge me for a little while."

Finn didn't look much like granting indulgences. He stared at Sarevok with that black look but Anchev didn't flinch. Anna's stomach felt slightly queasy at the prospect and she wanted to dart back into the carriage. The rain fell steadily on but somehow Finn seemed to break.

"Alright, then. But you try anything on and so help me..."

"Believe me, such a deep intimacy is far from my mind," Sarevok said. "You hardly need to worry. Now come, before we all begin to sound like dear Lady Anna."

He swept down the gangplank and Cythandria followed him. Finn looked at Anna but she had nothing to say. She stepped onto the bobbing drawbridge with Finn close behind. Sarevok said something to the guards and they opened the cabin door and allowed them inside.

...

The ship's cabin had been converted into a kind of luxurious sitting room, with reclining sofas and rich wall hangings decorating the place. An attractive young woman rose from her chair at their entry and curtseyed politely.

"My lords and ladies, Master Lobar bids you welcome to the Low Lantern. I am Sharna, your hostess for the evening. How may I serve your pleasure?"

"We are here for the Rostherne rooms," Sarevok replied.

"Of course, my lord," the woman said, examining a ledger. "Your suite is already prepared. Martin shall be your wine steward, and Madame Cloise shall see to any entertainment you desire."

She pulled satin rope and a smart-looking boy appeared. The woman issued him an instruction and he led them down into the bowels of the ship. Anna tried to brace herself for the inevitable scene but Sarevok's claims seemed to ring true. Below decks had been turned into a well-fashioned and comfortable tavern, albeit one with more silken cushions than was normally seen in pubs. Men and women of the wealthy classes lounged about, laughing and talking quietly while attractive yet fully-clothed young women served them drinks. A harpist played in a corner and the soft sound drifted lightly through the air.

But the boy led them down another narrow flight of stairs and the mood changed considerably as the polite drinking was replaced by the activity of the gaming tables. Patrons huddled round the spinning wheels and chattering dice, cheering their winnings and mourning their losses. Elsewhere more studious types tried their luck at the cards, their eyes glancing furtively over their hands at their combatants. A number of stern-looking guards kept watch over the scene with narrow eyes.

"This way please, my lords," the boy said, and ushered them down yet another flight of stairs.

The bottom deck was lower of ceiling than the others, forcing Finn and Sarevok to duck their heads around the wooden beams. Two wings ventured off into the darkness on either side of them. In the open lounge several obviously drunken noblemen were well into the clutches of the tavern's women. Anna looked away, feeling her cheeks growing red. The boy seemed entirely unfazed however and led them down one of the wings to a door at the end. He opened it to reveal a spacious but low chamber, similar in furnishing to the rest of the tavern. A servant stepped forward and bowed at their entry.

"Good evening, my lords and ladies," he said. "I am Martin, your steward. I have taken the liberty of bringing out some of our finest bottles for your approval. May I suggest that the Arabellan claret is particularly excellent?"

"It always is, yes," Sarevok said, taking an offered sample. "What whites do you have tonight? I especially fancy something from the region of Neverwinter."

Cythandria settled back onto one of the sofas, but Anna and Finn stood uncomfortably while Sarevok and the steward casually discussed wine. He chose a few bottles and the steward departed.

...

"So where's this person you wanted us to meet?" Finn said. "I hope it's not somebody we need to pay for."

Sarevok chuckled. "Not in the manner you are thinking of. His name is Gelvas Drevant, a ranking minister in the palace, and he knows as much of the inner workings of this city as any man. Unfortunately for him, however, his finances no longer match his lifestyle, and it makes him susceptible to bribery."

"Sounds like a top bloke," Finn scoffed. "He'll be here soon, I hope?"

"He should be here now," Sarevok remarked. "I do hope I have no need to remind him of our appointment. But please, sit and have some wine."

Anna felt like she had little choice. She sat down gingerly next to Finn and accepted a goblet of wine from Sarevok. Fine indeed, she thought while tasting the ruby liquid. But she was certainly in no mood to enjoy it.

"So what's with this 'Rostherne' business then?" Finn asked.

"A bit of discretion rarely goes amiss," Anchev replied, taking his seat next to Cythandria. "Drevant knows who to ask for. It was my mother's maiden name, as it happens. But as that poor woman's family never set foot in these lands it is unknown here."

Anna sipped her wine, thinking she never marked Sarevok as one prone to sentimentality.

"It does seem pointless," Cythandria remarked. "Drevant is hardly a man to miss. His face is known all over the city."

"Including while seeking more private entertainments. It's hardly novel," he said. "One sees many of the upper crust in this establishment, as you know well."

"I still find it rather pathetic to be forced into this cramped old wreck," she continued. "Why, in the festhalls of Waterdeep—"

"Are you from Waterdeep?" Anna asked.

The woman smiled, though not kindly. "My father's family is from that city. Although I would not have expected you to know of their name. It is rather outside your circle, I should think."

Anna grimaced and fidgeted, hoping this tardy minister would show himself soon. At last a knock came through the door and Sarevok rose to answer it. No minister was there, however—an elegant woman of middling age entered, followed by two women who seemed barely old enough to earn the title.

"Good evening, Cloise," Sarevok said, greeting the woman with a smile. "You look radiant as ever tonight."

"Ah, my dear Master Anchev, you ever try your best to flatter a lady," Madame Cloise replied. "But I do appreciate it. You are always one of my more considerate patrons. And in tribute, I have held back two of our finest girls for you tonight. Ruby and Rose—I know you are fond of them."

Anna stared in shock as the young women promptly slid out of the vague silks that passed for clothing in that place, letting them drop silently to the floor. They held one another in something like an embrace while still allowing the company full view of their features.

"But I did not realise you were having female company as well," Cloise continued. "Shall I arrange entertainment for the ladies, or would they prefer to watch?"

A sick jolt passed through Anna and she sat more upright on the sofa. Neither option held appeal for her.

"Your girls are beautiful, as always," Sarevok said. "But truth be known, we are not interested in private entertainment just now. Perhaps later."

Cloise seemed almost slighted, and she tossed her head.

"Of course, Master Anchev. But you understand I cannot guarantee the girls will be available. We have quite a full house tonight."

"Then we must take our chances. Besides, as you have noted, we have some fine ladies with us already."

Anna could almost feel Finn's silent growl and he moved closer to her on the sofa. The rejected girls gathered up their garments and the three women left them alone once more.

"I thought these sorts of women weren't to your taste," Finn said when the door shut.

"Not to mine," Sarevok said, taking a sip of wine. "But some of those I entertain are less discriminating. I am not one to judge a man's hobbies, however. Though I should have given specific instructions to Cloise tonight, she does easily take on the air of a housewife whose hospitality has been spurned."

"Yeah, well—if you even think for a minute Anna is going to be part of your _entertainment _you can..." Finn began, but his proprietary statement was cut off by Sarevok's deep laughter.

"Oh, really! Calm yourself, noble champion. I have hardly brought you here with any sort of orgy in mind. But the lady has not answered as to whether she would like any entertainments this evening. I could call Cloise back if you wish."

He and Cythandria laughed while Anna squeezed her fingernails hard into Finn's leg to curtail a response. Despite his words Anna began to fear that this minister was a fiction, and Anchev merely desired a chance to toy with them. He was not so far removed from his father's way of doing business ad he'd like to claim.

"There's no need to be so prudish, regardless," Cythandria remarked. "What goes on in places like this hardly matters to anyone. It is somewhere to relax, to break free of the binds of day to day life. Everyone understands that. That's why they come."

"I am happy enough with my life," Anna replied stiffly. "I do not need any such...entertainment, thank you."

Cythandria smiled. "Then I can but assume you've never had any."

...

Anna's cheeks went red but she was spared the need to answer. A side chamber door that she'd entirely ignored suddenly opened, and a heavyset man in fine robes stumbled into the room. His hair was grizzled grey but his eyebrows were black as pitch and he regarded the company with a yawn.

"Oh, I say. These beds are quite good for sleeping in, can you imagine? Never tried it myself."

"Drevant, you were here this entire time?" Sarevok exclaimed.

"Have you been waiting long?" the minister replied. "I do apologise. I was up till the break of dawn last night, buried underneath mountains of diplomatic scrolls that needed attending. The High Duke's decision to ship old Ambassador Stenvedar back south has caused quite a stir, I can tell you. Be a dear, won't you, and fetch me a goblet of wine."

Drevant collapsed down onto a sofa, whilst apparently directing his words towards the hapless Cythandria. She looked surprised but swept up and fetched the minister his wine.

"There's a girl," he said. "Ah, lovely! Now, I do hope you haven't begun anything without me? Nap or no I would be most upset."

"No, we have been awaiting you," Sarevok said sharply.

"I apologise again. I left the house some hours ago—I told my wife I had an evening of whist planned, and she told me she was visiting a sick friend. A better marriage you will not find. But, company!" the minister said, as if just noticing Finn and Anna. "Tell me, who is our lovely company? Not affiliated with the Lantern surely, I'd have recognised them."

"No," Sarevok coughed. "These are two of my associates."

"Very good," the minister replied. "But who is to be our entertainment then?"

"That can wait," Anchev said, the patience stripping quickly from his voice. "I desire your words first."

"Yes, yes. Just so. I said I would contact you if I found out more, and I always am a man of my word. It wasn't an easy thing. Everyone in the palace is on edge, understandably so. They've been keeping quite tight-lipped even to such a personable fellow as myself. But I believe I finally have an answer, and thank the gods for that."

"An answer to what?" Finn asked.

Drevant gave Sarevok a questioning look, and he nodded. The minister rolled up his sleeves and took another drink of wine.

"Well you see, our younger Master Anchev here has been convinced that someone is manipulating the High Duke. He provided me with compelling...evidence that this was so. Naturally I have my own concerns on the matter, so I began to pay particular attention to the question. It seemed like a lost cause at first, but I now have my man. I'd stake my chair on it."

"Who?" Anchev said harshly.

"Why," the minister began, and leaned forward for effect. "It is none other than his first lieutenant, Angelo Dosan."

Anna stared at the man. Hardly a shocking revelation, but it still took her by surprise. Finn sat bolt upright but a little smile almost seemed to flicker across Anchev's face.

"Dosan. We should have known. He is slippery as an eel, that devil. But how did you track him down?" Sarevok asked.

"It was a hard thing, a hard thing," Drevant said, shaking his head. "None can get close to the former commander these days. He appears to have his nose firmly against the grindstone. But I knew he had a weakness for attending a certain festhall, so I tipped some coin towards the servants there in hopes of hearing something. And the tip has paid off. Dosan has apparently come into possession of a large sum of gold, a gift from a certain wealthy patron. He intends to take his foul gains and flee the city before the outbreak of war! The sheer lack of civic duty in some men is appalling, wouldn't you agree?"

"Truly," Anchev said, rubbing his chin. "But did this source happen to mention whom his benefactor might be?"

The minister shifted his large frame uncomfortably and adjusted his robes.

"Well, you must forgive me for saying—but some are pointing the finger at none other than your father."

Sarevok's face disappeared into his large palm and he stared at the floor. Anna could read nothing in his expression. Finn though spoke.

"But what is Dosan supposed to have _done?" _he said excitedly. "What did he get paid for?"

"Magic, my boy," Drevant almost whispered. "Mental magics of the worst sort. The Flaming Fist confiscates a great deal of magical contraband, artefacts of the dark arts which are thankfully forbidden in our fair land. In the wrong hands, well...you could imagine."

"But that's not enough though," Finn said, rising to his feet. "The word of some wench in a festhall isn't enough to get Dosan arrested. If I go to the captain I'd need something more."

"Captain?" Drevant enquired. "But you are surely not—"

"Finn is in the Flaming Fist," Anchev remarked.

The minister's face went rather pale, and he quickly set down the goblet of wine.

"Oh, dear, no. You did promise me—no one official. If Dosan found out, I could be..."

"Calm yourself, no one need hear your name. I am likewise a man of my word. But now we have a defined target to move towards—Dosan."

Sarevok also seemed excited at the prospect, and he rose to fetch himself another goblet of wine.

"But that's it though, isn't it?" Finn said. "Dosan. That bloody bastard. He's the one too—I'd be willing to bet anything he ordered Captain Merion killed. He'll pay for that one, all right."

His hand clenched on the grip of his sword and he scowled into the air.

"But you can't just burst in and accuse the second in command of the Flaming Fist on a rumour," Anna said. "You need evidence."

"And I don't really give a damn about evidence anymore!" Finn almost shouted. "Too many people have died because we haven't got the bloody _evidence. _I'm fed up. We know who it is. It's time to finish this, once and for all. The captain can't do anything, but we can. We need to end it before we've got a war on our hands."

"Now you begin to talk sense!" Sarevok said. "It is as I have told you. My father is behind this, and now we know his allies. I cannot move against the Flaming Fist any more than you, but we can move against my father. Aid me. Those villains from Amn are staying in our manor as we speak. Topple them and the rest shall fall."

He held out a hand to Finn. He hesitated, his hand still grasping at his blade. But slowly Finn reached out and clasped Sarevok's hand in his.

"Right then. We'll do it. Have you got a plan, or are we just meant to jump these bastards?"

Anna herself jumped nervously to her feet.

"Finn, I don't think—we need to talk to the others first."

"They don't need to come if they don't want to," he replied. "And neither do you. But I'm in. I've had enough, Anna."

"Finn, please—" she began, but the minister interrupted her.

"I have also had enough for one night," he said, wiping his brow. "I believe you promised me a bit of entertainment, did you not? I need something to relieve the terrible stress of this evening."

Sarevok scowled impatiently, but he sighed.

"Very well then, old man. Have your pleasure. But do not run up my boarding bill too high."

"Me? No, never. I'm not a greedy fellow. One will do, one will do!"

...

Anna looked around her in despair. She looked at Finn but she knew that expression in his eyes. He'd made up his mind. Sarevok pulled a red-roped bell and shortly afterwards Madame Cloise reappeared, with a fresh pair of girls in tow.

"I am pleased to see you've changed your mind," she smiled. "Terene and Nerith are both free right now. But I regret to say Merelia has been reserved for the entire evening."

"Then her arse will be sore in the morning," Drevant remarked. "But I've no interest in fanny—not even my wife's! None of that mutton for me. Now bring me what I want."

"Of course, my Lord Drevant," Cloise said, bowing her head. "Forgive me. I was not made aware that you were visiting tonight. You know we always make a point of anticipating our guests' needs."

She gestured quickly to the girls and they disappeared, only to be replaced a few moments later by a pair of handsome young men. Anna stared, uncomprehending, but then she quickly rose to her feet.

"I think I need the facilities," she said.

"There is a pot in the bedchamber," Sarevok said idly. "Though I would advise you to be quick."

"No, I—is there somewhere else?" she breathed.

"There is a privy down in the keel," Madame Cloise said. "If my lord has made his selection, I can show you there myself."

"No...no, I'll find it."

Anna quickly fled the room. A heat washed over her and she felt ill, but more than anything she just wanted out of that chamber. This place was vile. How could so-called civilised men, the supposed elite of the city, seek their entertainment here? Maya always said shutters and bars were there for good reason, but until then Anna never fully appreciated that fact.

She paused in the hallway, trying hard to ignore the sounds that penetrated the doors. How did she end up here? It was a question she asked herself more often than not anymore. And Finn...and Sarevok... A nobleman ventured into the hall with a whore on his arm; he gave Anna a knowing look and she returned with her coldest stare. The pair disappeared into a room and she forced herself to move on.

In crossing the lounge she began to gather than any woman in that place was fair game, or the men were too drunk to know a harlot from a lady. One man called out an offer to her while another decided to try a more direct approach. His hands freely found her intimate places and he slurred something with hot breath in her ear. Anna made a noise and managed to throw the man off before escaping blindly into the next wing.

She leaned hard against a door to avoid a groping by yet another fool, accidentally rapping her knuckles against the frame as he thankfully stumbled past. Almost immediately the door gave way and she let out a startled cry, trying to find her feet. But her shock was nothing compared to the one she had regarding the figure who stood in the doorway. There was no harlot or randy nobleman—it was an elf, and he stared at her with as much surprise as she did him.

...

_"Xan," _Anna stammered. "But you aren't..."

She didn't have time to finish the thought, whatever it was. Her mind had gone blank. The elf promptly pulled her inside and quickly shut the door.

"Anna...what, what are you _doing _here?" Xan hissed.

"Me? What of you?" she asked, clutching at her arms. "You can't be—"

"Of course not," he interrupted. "You do not honestly think I am here sampling the entertainments?"

She didn't, but her brain couldn't think of any other explanation just then. Smokey coils of incense drifted around the chamber, irritating her sensitive lungs into another coughing fit. A coloured lantern threw down a dim light over the silk-covered bed. A bottle of wine lay open on a table, with two delicate glass goblets at its side.

"But why are you here?" she managed to ask.

Xan didn't reply. A light knock sounded on the chamber door and he opened it with a groan. A dark-haired woman stood there, nearly bare in her working clothes.

"Good evening, my lord," she lisped, but then she saw Anna. "Oh, you—have company?"

"Never mind. The bed will hold three," he replied loudly, and Anna stared at him as if he'd suddenly grown another head.

The nobleman walked past again in the hall and regarded the scene with a quick smirk before moving on. Xan ushered the woman into the room and shut and bolted the door.

"Forgive me, Merelia," he said to her quietly. "I was not expecting company myself. It is alright, you may speak freely in front of her."

For the first time Anna noticed Xan was not in his usual robes; he wore a silken tunic and quilted jerkin much like any nobleman in the city. The woman nodded and sat down on the bed.

"If you say so. But have you got something for me first?"

Xan sighed and reached into his jerkin, handing over a jingling bag of coins into the woman's waiting hands. She smiled at its weight and reclined back on the bed.

"Well, now," she said. "Shall we begin?"

"I think I need to go," Anna burst out.

"That would be wise," Xan said. "But I trust you are not here alone?"

"No, Finn is here. And Sarevok Anchev," she added.

Somehow she couldn't say more. Xan's face looked grim.

"Yes, I know. I hadn't expected you to be an additional guest, however. Do bear in mind what I said the other night."

Anna paused. "What is that?"

The elf seemed to grow more pale for a moment, but he shook his head.

"Never mind. Just...be wary."

Anna said nothing else and stumbled back into the hall. She wanted to speak, but with that woman there she just couldn't. Anna thought nothing more of the privy. She hurried back towards Sarevok's chamber and ran thankfully into Finn.

...

"Are you all right?" he asked quickly. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she breathed. "I just want to go home."

"Well that's good, cause we're leaving," he remarked. "I'm not hanging about in there. I never really thought blokes actually _did _that. Thought it were all just a joke."

"What about Sarevok?" she asked.

Finn paused. "We'll talk when we get home, aye?"

His statement did little to improve her mood. Quickly they found their way up out of the ship and into the rainy night. They were silent for a time, hurrying from the rain and the fish-smelling docks. But the agony of the question wore at Anna and she soon stopped him in the street.

"You're helping him, aren't you?" she said. "All based on what that man said."

"Wouldn't you?" Finn asked.

"No, I wouldn't!" she cried. "We don't even know if he is who he says. It's just...a rumour. Some tale of a festhall. It's not enough."

Finn's face went dark and he glanced around at the empty street. He looked torn, but then the words burst out.

"And what is enough, Anna? Merion dead, Yeslick dead, Rill dead—how many are dead? How many more is there going to be? If I'm wrong then they can hang me. Let them. I'm fed up with all of this. There's not going to be any more. We can bring this bastard down. We can do it."

"I just don't think—"

"Well, don't then!" Finn exclaimed. He grasped her shoulders painfully hard, giving her a shake. "I'll do it, I'll take responsibility. You don't need to go."

With a cry she wrenched herself free. She took a step back and regarded him with rain-soaked eyes.

"So it will be just you and Sarevok against his father, and all his men? You'd never survive."

"We'll see," he said bleakly. "But I'm sick of this. Let's get home, before you get even wetter."

Perhaps it was the way he grabbed her, but Anna suddenly felt a heat of rage come over her. She glared at Finn and spoke with a shaking voice.

"No. I'm going back."

"You what?" Finn said. "Why?"

"I'm going back," was all she replied. Without another word she turned and began walking with swift steps towards the Low Lantern, but Finn's grasp on her arm stopped her in the street.

"Don't be daft," he said. "Come on. Let's get home."

"Let _go _of me!"

Her words shrieked out into the night, startling even herself. Finn looked like she'd struck him and he let go of her arm.

"Okay, okay," he said, trying to soothe her. "You're upset. You're tired. We both are. Please, let's just go home."

Anna's mood though was not meant to be tempered. She gave him a hard look, then turned away from him in the street. She walked in a dream, still expecting him to stop her but Finn did not. She glanced over her shoulder once, just able to make out the dark shape of his cloak as he stood in the lane, watching her walk away.

...

She found the gangplank of the Low Lantern once more. The guards thankfully recognised her and let her pass without issue. Anna said nothing to the hostess at the door and kept her eyes from those busy with their gambling and whoring. She avoided Anchev's suite and rapped deliberately on a door in the opposite wing.

"It's me," she said in response to the hesitant call. Xan opened the door, staring at her with a bleak look, and Anna somehow had the idea that she saw that scene before.

"What is it?" he asked. "Never mind. Come inside before someone sees you."

She entered and he locked the door. The woman was still there, draped on the bed and toying idly with a small lash in her hand.

"Changed your mind on the fun?" she giggled. "We are having a marvellous time in here! Best night's work I've had in a long while."

Anna merely glared at her, not in a mood for her humour.

"Can we speak?" she asked Xan. "Privately."

The elf looked dubious, but the sight of her must have changed his mind. He turned to the woman with a sigh.

"Perhaps we can call short our evening, Merelia," he said. "You can tell them I've had a jealous visitor."

"Oh, pooh. Back to work for me, then. But I shall have to muss up the sheets a bit more—it's much too tidy for what we've been doing, my dear."

Merelia gave Xan a bright grin and his cheeks coloured under his frown. He wrapped a strange cloak around his shoulders and spoke to the woman.

"Do whatever you must. And thank you."

Merelia just smiled. Xan ushered Anna towards the door and she followed him blindly as they mounted the steps up through the ship.

"Just stay close to me, none will notice us," he said under his breath.

Anna didn't argue. They made their way back out into the rain, which had finally consented to moderate into a heavy drizzle. She glanced at Xan; his hood was up and he walked rather firmly along next to her.

"Why were you there?" she asked again.

"What could you possibly think?" Xan remarked, then sighed. "These courtesans have a remarkable ability to loosen men's tongues, and they overhear a great deal. Merelia has been passing information to me for some time. Today I had a message that she expected a visitor of interest, and she asked me to attend the tavern. To have me posing as her...client was the only way to speak with her in private."

"But..."

Xan went stiffer. "She rather insisted we put on a good show, in case any ears might happen to be listening. Her life could be in danger if anyone discovered her actions. My work is not always appealing, I am afraid to admit, but certainly nothing happened in that chamber."

Anna fell silent. She thought of Xan's repeated claims not to be a spy, but sometimes he seemed quite close.

"Did you find what you were looking for, at least?"

"Yes, but I believe you found him first," he said ruefully. "I came seeking Lord Drevant. The woman suggested he had a meeting with that other considerably more enigmatic figure, Sarevok Anchev."

The name brought back her troubles and she drew a shaking breath.

"He's going to help him, Xan."

The elf stopped in the street, but then quickened his pace.

"He said so?"

"Yes. He's determined. I can tell. He..."

She paused for fear she might break into tears. Xan groaned under his breath.

"Seldarine protect us. Did Finn say when?"

"No, but it must be soon."

They walked on again. Xan muttered something under his breath and clutched his handkerchief to his nose. Anna paid little attention at first but then she looked at him in surprise.

"Have your nosebleeds returned?"

"They have. I would not concern yourself," he said shortly.

In reply Anna erupted into a sympathy fit of coughing bad enough that she had to stop for breath.

"We are a pair," she croaked. "Oh, my ribs hurt."

She gasped at the sharp pain that issued from underneath her bodice. The dress was rather tight and she looked forward to slipping out of the stays.

"Your cough seems to be growing worse," Xan remarked. "You should have Jaheira see to you."

"I have herbs," she replied somewhat defensively. "And it's only a cold. But I'm freezing now, let's get moving."

...

Xan sighed but said nothing else. Lost as she was in her thoughts she didn't notice that he had gone out of his way to walk with her back to the house. The gate was closed as usual and thankfully no mob was to be seen on the deserted street.

She raised a fist to knock, but suddenly paused with her hand in the air.

"I don't know what to do," she said blankly.

"And I am afraid I cannot tell you," Xan replied.

Anna lowered her hand. Somehow she never quite felt so lost as at that moment. Finn, everyone was torn in different directions. Their quarrel came back to her with a mixture of anger and sadness.

"I will speak with the others," Xan spoke. "Perhaps...I do not know. Perhaps we can steer Finn from this mad course of action. Or perhaps not. Fate will take us where it will, that much is certain."

His musings seemed rather too keen to her. She knocked and her neighbour opened the gate. Anna left the elf with barely a good night and walked slowly up the stairs, rather hesitant to see Finn. She found the door unlocked and entered their chamber silently. The candle was lit and Finn was on his feet. Anna stopped in her tracks seeing the flash of chainmail on his chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"What do you think?" he answered shortly.

"Finn, you can't. Not tonight," she said in alarm.

"No time like the present, eh?" Finn replied. He stuck his spare dagger firmly into his boot. "It's late. They'll all be out of their heads on lotus or drink. We can make a quick strike. Sarevok says most of the compound guards are in his pocket, and they hate his father as much as him. We shouldn't have any trouble."

"This is what he told you?" Anna said, feeling her mouth growing thick.

"I believe him. Never thought I'd be saying that, but I do."

Finn finished his preparations and looked at her. His jaw was set but his eyes were burning bright.

"Please...please don't do this," she begged. "There must be another way...something, anything. Please..."

Anna choked, somewhere between a cough and a sob. Finn wrapped his metal-cold arms tightly around her.

"I'm sorry," he said into her hair. "I wish there was something else. But there isn't anything left. Stay here. Don't go out. I'll...I'll be back by sunrise."

"You won't," she sobbed. "You're going to be killed."

"And if I am, you get out of here, all right?" Finn said, his own voice growing thick. "Go...somewhere. Anywhere. Get away from all this. I love you, Anna."

She begged him with her face buried in his chest, but her words went unheard. Finn caressed her face, the tough leather of his gauntlets catching on her tear-soaked cheeks. His own eyes were red and he bent to kiss her. Anna though suddenly pulled away.

"No. No. If you want to go and get killed, for all this madness, for that..._snake, _then you go. I don't know what's wrong with you, Finn, I don't—"

"I'm trying to protect you, that's what's wrong!" he shot back. "I don't want you caught up in a war. I don't want you to fight anymore. I don't want you to hurt... No more. I'm going to end this. And if I end up dead, well so be it. I could still die a happy man, knowing I saved you."

_"Save me?" _she exclaimed. "By making me a widow? By just...letting the man I love commit suicide? You won't beat Anchev. And if you do, Dosan will have you. He's still in power, you know that. And after you, what's to stop him coming after me? Think about it, please!"

"I have thought about it," Finn replied. "I've done nothing but think about it. And now I have to go. Do you want to kiss me, or should we just part like this?"

Anna stared at him. Nothing about his face made any sense anymore. Finn leaned into her and she pulled his lips hungrily to hers. Too soon he pulled back. He gathered his wet cloak and left the room without even another word.

She felt like screaming. Nothing...everything was falling. Like a madwoman she tore off her dress, letting the expensive fabric fall unheeded to the muddy floor. In its place Anna pulled on her battered old mage robe, stained and torn from fights that were too many to count. She grabbed up her quarterstaff and fled down the stairs as if driven by demons, seeking her own fate in the night.


	87. Dealbreaker

Anna didn't try to catch up with Finn; she knew where he was headed, and she knew as well she stood little chance of getting him to change his mind. Anger swept through her as she ran through the empty streets—anger, and a terrible fear. Running made her lungs burn like fire and she had to stop for breath but she forced herself on. There was very little time.

After an eternity she reached the Golden Hind. Given the speed she ran Anna thought she might overtake Xan, but the elf was swift enough in his own right. She tried the inn door and surprisingly it was unlocked. She hurried up past the deserted sitting room and pounded hard on his door. When it opened she didn't wait to speak.

"Oh, Chauntea—he left. He's gone to do it," she gasped.

Anna could hardly breathe; her lungs were rattling and her heavy cloak choked her from where it lodged itself around her neck. Xan's eyes opened wide but he didn't truly seem surprised.

"He would. Come inside, and sit down before you collapse."

She didn't need much prompting. Her legs had turned to jelly and it was all she could do to stumble into the chamber. Anna found the sofa just in time, but she glanced up at movement. It appeared Xan had company.

"What has Finn done?" Jaheira demanded. "Silvanus, please do not tell me—"

Anna could only nod in reply. It wasn't too surprising to see Jaheira and Khalid standing over her, but the other occupant was more so.

"He has gone by himself?" Ajantis exclaimed. "To face the Iron Throne? I have heard tales of warriors single-handedly facing down dragons, but that is foolish in the extreme."

Anna couldn't argue, though she wondered how they all knew what her gasping outburst meant. Xan poured her a hasty goblet of wine and she drank from it greedily.

"We m-must find him," Khalid added. "Has he just gone? If we go now, w-we may stand some ch-chance of overtaking him."

"He left when I did," Anna said, holding back a cough with her fist. "But how do you—"

"Xan reported to us the events of the evening. We were waiting here for him to return, as it happens," Jaheira said.

Anna took another swallow of wine, wondering if she and Finn had been deliberately cut out of the loop. But then there always seemed to be a good deal going on behind her back.

"Where is Kivan?" she managed to ask.

"Here, _mellonamin," _a voice replied, and her startled nerves made her jump. Kivan stepped forward and she truly wished he would dispense with his habit of lurking in the shadows.

"Khalid is correct, perhaps we still have some chance," Jaheira said. "Though if we cannot find that fool of a boy, I swear the Iron Throne shall be the least of his problems! Come, let us go."

There was a scurry and a scramble for cloaks and hoods. Ajantis and Khalid were armed as usual and Xan was never without his blade, but Anna noticed none of them had armour. Likely they never expected to have need of it that night. Kivan still held his trusty bow but Jaheira seemed completely unarmed. Anna took another sip of wine and pulled her aching limbs from the sofa with a groan.

"Perhaps you should remain here," Xan said as he drew on his cloak. "We would manage, I am certain."

Anna looked at him. "Would you?"

The elf didn't reply. In a single file they hurried down the stairs and out into the night. The mist was lighter now, drifting down like a heavy fog. But the air had grown colder and it bit into Anna's tender lungs. Try though she did to smother it she couldn't entirely hide her cough.

"Are you well, my lady?" Ajantis asked.

The knight fell back from the others to speak with her, and she did her best to give him a reassuring nod.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just...it was a long run. I will be well...when I catch my breath."

Ajantis didn't truly look convinced but there was little time for argument. The late night streets were nearly empty and if any did take notice of the swift-moving band they hid their interest. Somewhere temple bells rang and Anna was startled that they called out but twice.

...

The journey from the Golden Hind to the Iron Throne compound seemed even longer than the first, but Anna's nervous energy kept her moving. The deserted warehouses in that neighbourhood gave the place an even more bleak and unpopulated feel, as if the entire city had decided to make their escape in the night. Not even a stray cat was to be seen as they flanked the massive building, seeking their best way inside.

"If Finn went through the front gate, there is no sign of him now," Jaheira said, almost to herself. "And I doubt the guards will be kind enough to allow us to tour the place in search of him."

Two guards stood at attention beside the compound's heavy gate, like statues even in the rain.

"Finn said the guards were all in Sarevok's pocket," Anna remarked. "Perhaps if we spoke with them..."

"No, let us have no more foolishness this night. I would take little that man said at face value."

"I agree, but we m-must find a way. Even our g-good ranger friend would struggle to m-mount that wall," Khalid remarked.

The compound wall rose up almost in a testament to Rieltar's paranoia; nearly ten feet of smooth stone without crack or handhold, and topped with wicked-looking iron spikes besides. The Flaming Fist base itself looked easier to penetrate.

"I could make the attempt," Kivan offered. "Though we would still be forced to deal with the guards."

"Hopefully there shall be no need," Xan said. "There is a small door on the north side of the building. We went through it once before. It was heavily barred, as I recall, but we should be able to overcome that."

"As good an idea as any. Now hurry," Jaheira urged them on.

Silently they crept around the outer walls, keeping in the shadows as much as possible. Anna glanced up over the wall; the building was dark but here and there she saw a faint flicker of light. Finn was in there, and somehow she needed to get to him before it was too late.

They reached the door. It's steel-reinforced frame was bolted tight, but no guards faced them on that side of the wall.

"Warded," Xan said quietly. "I should not have doubted Anchev to guard just against simple lockpicks."

He bent over, his nose nearly touching the frame as he examined the magic runes that Anna's eyes could not see in the dark. Xan continued muttering to himself and suddenly the door flickered with a flash of light. Through the thick frame Anna heard the sounds of bolts falling open.

"That should do," the enchanter said.

Ajantis reached out for the ring, but Kivan stopped him.

"Wait, _mellonamin. _This makes me uneasy. Would not a man so fearful of all around him guard against magics as well?"

"Perhaps, my good elf, but either way we must go through," the knight replied.

"Perhaps..." Kivan said, staring up at the wall. Without a word he set his bow against the stone and removed his boots and cloak. With a grunt he leaped up onto the wall, somehow managing to cling to the thin cracks like some gangly elven spider. Anna watched with bated breath as he climbed higher and higher, praying with all her might that his impossible grasp would hold. Quickly though he reached the iron spikes. Kivan grasped them tight and swung from view onto the other side of the wall.

"Elves," Ajantis muttered, though there was a hint of admiration in his voice.

They all stood silent, waiting for whatever would happen. After a few minutes Anna heard an odd metallic noise come through the wood. The ring turned and an elf appeared on the other side.

"It is safe now," was all he said.

Kivan stepped through and gathered his clothing. Anna's heart skipped a beat seeing a dangling flash of metal—several hidden blades had waited there, eager to take their mark at any fool enough to step inside.

"Regardless, we should move on," Jaheira said. She cleared her throat, likewise examining the blades. "Thank you, Kivan."

The ranger bowed his head but didn't respond. He took up his bow and they stepped gingerly through the door.

...

The courtyard was dark but fairly narrow on that side and they reached the building quickly. Another door barred their passage but this one, Anna hoped, appeared to only be locked. Xan cast another spell against the bolt and they found themselves within the heavy walls of the Iron Throne. Anna had come this way once before, but the hall was light then from the guards' lanterns. Now she stood in the darkness wondering where next to go.

"If Finn came seeking Rieltar, he would likely look first in his private chambers," Xan remarked. "I am not sure precisely where they are—this building is a maze—but they seemed to be on the floor above."

"Yes, he came from the mezzanine over the ballroom," Anna said, though her thoughts ended in a cough.

"Do be silent, if you can," Jaheira snapped. Anna felt the sting of her words, but she knew somehow the druid didn't mean them.

"But what if we encounter guards?" Ajantis said. "Whatever sort of criminal this man is the fact remains we are now trespassers. We have no right to be here, let alone start a battle."

"Then why did you come if you did not expect to fight?" Kivan remarked.

"I'd hoped we could parlay, however unlikely that may seem," he said grimly.

"We should not attack unless drawn upon first," Jaheira said. "But neither will I allow myself to be run through by that villain's thugs. We will fight if we must. Our goal here is to find Finn. And to beat him senseless afterwards," she added with a snarl.

Anna didn't entirely disagree with the sentiment, but she reached for Jaheira's shoulder.

"Here," she said quietly. "You could use this better than I could."

She held out her staff in the darkness and felt a hand clasp on the wood.

"Are you certain? I would not wish to take your arms from you."

"I have magic. You can take it."

Jaheira said nothing, but Anna felt the comforting weight of her staff leaving her hands.

"If you would show us the way, then, Xan?" the druid's voice said.

"Yes. Follow me."

Anna heard his light steps begin to echo down the halls. Thanks to their wholly human blood she and Ajantis were the only ones blind in the darkness. She held out a hand, fumbling for the wall, but then a firm grip took her arm.

"This way," Jaheira said. "I will guide you."

Anna smiled slightly. She stumbled next to Jaheira, following along through the passages and turns. The faintest of light penetrated the high barred windows and her eyes adjusted somewhat, but Anna still kept her grip on the druid's arm. In that place it felt good to hold on to someone. No guards accosted them though and they soon found a staircase.

"This seems like a servants' stair," Xan said, and Anna had to take him by his word. "Less likely to be guarded than the main steps."

She followed him up the twisting stairs, feeling her way with her hands and toes as she went. At last they paused, bunched up together on a landing like children plotting a midnight escape.

"I hear nothing," Kivan said quietly, and Anna gathered he'd been listening at the door.

A dim light penetrated under the crack in the frame. It opened and she blinked against lamplight which seemed like the sun after her walk in the dark. They stepped out into a fine, broad corridor, lined with expensive tapestries and heavy woollen rugs. Marble statues stood ghost-like along the length of it, watching the silent hall with empty eyes.

"Perhaps they have all retired for the evening," Ajantis said under his breath.

"If only we were so fortunate. Come, and be quiet," Jaheira replied.

They crept past shut door after shut door, their steps silent as mice on the carpet. Anna nearly strangled herself but she managed to hold her cough at bay. Suddenly Kivan held up a hand. They paused, then crept slower still. Soon Anna could hear voices. A wide set of double doors stood imposing before them, the sound men's voices coming through the frame.

"They do not sound under attack," Kivan whispered.

Indeed, the voices sounded more like those at a tavern or feast. Low tones were followed by hearty laughter, but she couldn't hear what was said.

"Perhaps Finn has already made his stand, and they are laughing off the attack," Ajantis said.

Anna looked up at him and he noticed her gaze with an embarrassed flush.

"Do not fear, my lady. I am certain he is safe."

"But what...what do we do?" she whispered anxiously.

It was all she could do to keep from bursting into the chamber. She began to hear Rieltar's voice above the others, low, calm, and strangely cold.

Jaheira drew a deep breath. "We could wait...perhaps. Find a nearby chamber and wait. But if Finn is already here..."

"I do not hear his voice, but that means little," Kivan remarked.

Anna's stomach churned with nerves and she let out a loud cough before she could stifle it. She covered her mouth in horror but if any inside the room heard there was no sign. The talk and laughter continued as before.

"Get back. Back into a chamber," Khalid said quickly.

In even greater horror Anna saw a door ring begin to turn, but there was no escape for them. The frame opened wide and a heavily armoured man regarded them with a cold stare.

_"Intruders! Boss! We got intruders!"_

_..._

That should have been the end. Anna's vision went dim as she prepared to fight, but somehow she found herself being either pushed or pulled into the chamber. The door slammed shut as a circle of steel immediately surrounded them.

"What's this? Visitors! A bit late to be out calling, don't you think? But never mind. I always appreciate a bit of company."

Anna suddenly choked, barely able to hear that brutal voice. A sickly-sweet fog hung in the air of the room, the smoke brown as dirt. It made her stomach churn and strangled her throat. She wiped her eyes to see Rieltar Anchev rising from a big chair, tapping forwards on his cane to examine the intruders.

"So who are ye, then?" he demanded. "Don't look official. Not robbers either, they don't usually come in a herd. Not that many bother to try with me, certainly never twice. And you'd be a motley group of assassins, all right. So speak up! What are you doing here?"

Anchev's eyes were glassy and red, his tone strange, but he spoke with a purpose. Without thinking Anna suddenly burst out.

"Where is he?" she demanded in turn. "What have you done with him?"

_"Hm? _Done with who, my little wench? But whatever I've done with him, it's no business of your own."

"It is my business!" she cried again. "He's my husband!"

"Anna, silence," Jaheira said low.

Anna's hands shook and she glared at Rieltar. He looked a wreckage of a man as always, a mountain of refinement gone wrong. His fine clothes looked slept in and his iron-grey hair was a mess. And always he had that unsettling, penetrating gaze. He stepped forward and his guards drew back slightly.

"Oh, oh, oh. I know who you must be. _Ha! _I never thought you to show much gumption to come here a'looking for him. Nice to know at my age I can still be pleasantly surprised. But you're too late, I'm afraid. He's feeding the rats even as we speak. Your little husband is dead."

Anchev let out a cold laugh. Anna's legs lost all ability to hold her and she crumpled to the floor.

_"Dead?" _she breathed. "No, you can't..."

"Foul bastard criminal!" Ajantis swore. "I will see you stretched on the gallows myself!"

He kneeled to help Anna to her feet, but she couldn't move. The world was spinning around in her head. Finn couldn't be dead, he couldn't.

"That so? You're not the first to say that to me, boy," Rieltar said gleefully. "But dead he is, and dead he will remain. He shouldn't have expected any less for dipping into my coffers. I don't take kindly to _thieves."_

Anna stared at him, but she couldn't process what he said. Jaheira though broke into her thoughts.

"Then that is yet another life lost to your foul hand. But we are not after any servant of yours. A man came here tonight seeking you. Where is he?"

She spoke brutally enough on her own, but Rieltar was unfazed.

"Then he must have lost his bottle, my little elf-girl. It's just been me and my friends here, lonesome all night long."

For the first time Anna noticed Rieltar's company. A group of men in strange robes had gathered behind him, watching the scene with a mixture of wariness and amusement. They must be the Amnish conspirators Sarevok spoke of.

"Shall we run them through, boss?" one of the guards spoke.

From the floor Rieltar's entourage seemed even more imposing. They were tall and strong, all clad in heavy steel. Anna felt frightfully bare and she reached for Ajantis' hand.

"Oh, maybe not so fast," Rieltar said. "It has been a dull night. Let's give 'em a chance to earn their keep. Besides, we don't want a mess on the rug, do we? You there, girl—do you like to dance? You got a dancer's body, all right."

He fixed Jaheira with a look more mocking and cold than lecherous. The druid gritted her teeth at him but Khalid's stutter broke out.

"Sh-she is _not _a d-dancing g-girl!" he proclaimed in a tone not often heard from his lips. His stare was even angrier than Jaheira's and his eyes regarded Rieltar like chips of grey ice.

"Oho! You certain on that?" Rieltar teased. "Say it again, just to be sure!"

"Perhaps we ought to leave this," one of the foreign men spoke. "Torture them, just to find out who they are truly looking for. But then they ought to go down in the sewers. It will be morning soon, and the last thing we need is people in here asking questions."

"You worry too much, Marcus," Rieltar dismissed him. "Have another pull on that pipe there and calm your nerves. Everything is going according to plan. It'll all be done and dusted soon, don't you fear!"

"All the same, I think he's right," another man spoke. "There's too much at stake to take any chances."

Anna's head was beginning to spin, whether from her cracked nerves or the thick atmosphere in the room. Rieltar took on the look of one humouring a child but the big man let out a weary sigh.

"Very well, then. Company comes first. Right, boys—take them down to the cellar."

The swords advanced. Anna froze like a stone, frozen onto the carpet. She couldn't think. Where was Finn? It was all wrong, it was...

It was Ajantis who moved first. He pushed her down out of the way of the flashing blades before drawing his own weapon. The knight moved like water, fearless, with an instinct honed of numberless battles. He locked blades with the guard in front of him, somehow twisting his body that the blade of the guard behind found his friend instead of Ajantis' back.

Everything broke apart then. The room burst into a cacophony of swords and shouts, a clashing blur of blood and stains on the carpet. A heavy boot stepped on her leg and Anna knew she needed to get out of the melee. By pure instinct she remembered a spell and her body disappeared.

She crawled wormlike to the edge of the room but hearing a clap like thunder she turned around. Rieltar had raised that strange white cane, calling out words into the air that she couldn't hear. His eyes were wild and in his rage he looked barely human. The cane glowed painfully bright and he aimed it into the battle. The cries of her friends and the villains came to her in equal measure.

With a cry of her own Anna sent a pulsing orb flying towards the man. It sank into his robes, covering his flesh in liquid light. In its place it left burnt flesh but Rieltar seemed hardly to notice. He drew the heavy sword at his waist and charged towards Khalid, who had his back towards him in the melee. Another missile from Anna's hand was all that stopped the madman's sword from sinking into his spine.

By now she was visible though and in danger once more. One of Rieltar's guards noticed her on the floor as she tried desperately again to seek shelter. He grabbed her before she could cast another spell, his heavy glove seizing her by the nape of the neck and pulling her up by her hair.

"Right now, bitch, let's see if you're any—"

His threat was replaced by a strange cry and he fell forward, landing straight onto Anna. She felt his blade pressing onto her robes and she struggled and cried out, desperately trying to free herself from the weight of man and steel. The man's hair was thick with blood and it flowed onto her in equal measure. She looked over her shoulder to see an image of Jaheira, clinging to her staff and regarding the man with a dark expression.

Anna did her best to throw her concentration back into the fight, but her store of spells was pathetically low. She struck where she could, taking full advantage of her arrows of acid and flame as they struck the vulnerable Amnish men's robes. The beautiful silk melted or caught alight where they struck, driving terrible screams from their mouths as they tried desperately to rip the garments from their skin. It felt cruel and cold but Anna could do nothing less.

...

Remarkably though, despite being outnumbered her friends appeared to have seized the upper hand. Rieltar's heavily armed guards weren't a match for the quick, well-trained assault of Jaheira and Khalid, and Ajantis fought like a lion even without armour. A glowing shield protected Xan from the worst of the guards' blows as he traded strokes of the blade for his own, his Moonblade's bright fire aided by a spell where he could manage one.

Kivan abandoned his bow for a dagger in the tight space and he fought with a predator's strike. Armour meant little to him; his blade could easily reach the vulnerable spots around the neck. The bodies of guards and Amnish men fell one by one to the floor, and though Anna's friends were bloodied they still fought on.

Rieltar though showed no signs of tiring. He fought with a berserker rage, driving back any assault. His hunched, elderly frame disappeared, replaced by the strength of body he shared with his son. No blow fazed him, no strike seemed able to fully penetrate his madness. He was an animal, and he fought like one.

_"You want me?" _he screamed at no-one. _"Well fucking come and get me! You'll never take me down. I...don't...die!"_

Anna felt he spoke the truth. Rieltar let out a bellowing cry of rage, lunging at Ajantis who faced him. The knight feinted and struck but he struggled with the dual blow of sword and enchanted cane. A white-hot streak of light hit him and he stumbled backwards, nearly collapsing to the ground.

_"Rieltar...give up! Surrender!" _Jaheira screamed in turn, but her cries went ignored.

The madman struck at her. The quarterstaff parried his blows better than Ajantis' blade but he managed to rip it from her hands, sending it clattering away like a twig. Undaunted the druid struck on with her fists, driving away his strikes while managing a well-placed kick into his personal region. Rieltar's only response was to deliver a harsh blow on the side of her head with his cane. Jaheira groaned and collapsed to the floor.

Anna watched the scene, paralysed. There was nothing she could do; all her useful spells were cast, and she stood no more chance than a babe against Rieltar's mad strikes. If even the warriors could not bring him down then she was entirely helpless.

Faint to her ears came the sound of dying and injured men, but she ignored them. One of the Amnish men tried to rise, then collapsed back for a final time. The group could now focus all their assault on Rieltar but whatever blow hit him he cared not. His robes, his face, his fur cape were soaked with blood and he still sneered at them.

"Come along, ye bunch of pansies! You know how many assassins have tried and failed? I'll kill you yet! I'll kill the lot of you, I will—"

Whatever demon possessed that man clearly did not feel like letting go. But an arrow from Kivan's bow struck him clean in the neck and he finally staggered to his knees.

"Throw down your arms," Ajantis said, himself bloodied and weary. "Give yourself to the mercy of the law."

Rieltar merely sneered again. His heat of rage melted with the blood flowing down his face, but in its place came words colder than ice.

"You...the Abyss take you. I always said I wouldn't be going alone. You ready, boy? You ready for the end?"

Ajantis scowled but didn't respond. He held out his blade in wariness at the crippled hulk of a man.

"No...I'm not going alone," Rieltar wheezed. "You're coming too. You all are. Come...come to me."

His fist clenched onto his staff and it began to glow, but a different colour than before. Suddenly Xan let out a cry.

_"Get out! Now!"_

Anna could feel the magic building and she needed no more prompting. Ajantis lugged the still-dazed Jaheira to her feet and they all scrambled towards the doors. Kivan slammed them shut behind them, and not a moment too soon. From behind the wood came a flash, blinding even through the cracks in the frame. A cry like a demon itself quaked in Anna's soul, but then all was silent.

"Madman...fool," Xan gasped, and he slid down onto the carpet.

"He...is dead then," Jaheira said. Her head lolled against the wall where Ajantis had lain her. Khalid hovered around anxiously while the knight applied his gifts. Anna sunk down as well. She'd hardly taken a scratch in the battle but she felt beaten and sick.

"Where...where is Finn?" she asked weakly.

None had an answer, and none seemed willing to give one. Wounds were bound and prayers chanted while Anna looked on. The enormity of what occurred in that room struck her and she let out a pained cough. She'd have cried if she could, but she seemed too shrunken and dry.

"We must report this to the Flaming Fist," Ajantis said finally, but the suggestion met with a lukewarm response.

"We should at least see to the damage," Jaheira said. "There may yet be men alive in there."

With Khalid's help she struggled to her feet. Cautiously they opened the door, and Anna's stomach turned once more. That sick smell of black lotus had been joined by the stench of burned flesh. Rieltar's final act was vicious, and if any men had survived the battle there was no hope for them now.

Anna stared at the man himself. He lay on his back, surrounded by his mountainous clothes. The spell had nearly cooked the meat from his frame, leaving behind little more than a fleshy skull that grinned up at the ceiling, triumphant in death. No assassin's blade had found him in the end. He had defeated them.

"We are fortunate the lotus softened their reflexes," Jaheira remarked. "We might never have triumphed otherwise."

"And what triumph is this?" Ajantis said. "A dozen men dead, and we still have no proof of their wrongdoing. To the authorities we will be vigilantes as best, cold blooded murderers at worst. We must salvage something from this night if we are to have any hope for ourselves."

"And do you think I enjoyed this?" she shot back. "I weep no tears for that man. But I feel like a dog here, pushed into a ring and forced to fight. Where is Sarevok? Has he suddenly decided to show mercy?"

"We could leave. None would know of our presence here," Kivan said.

"Would that comfort you?" the knight replied.

"No," Kivan sighed. "It would not."

"Ajantis is right that we must find proof," Xan said. "Rieltar may be dead, but the plans he made are now fully in motion. His death alone will not stop the approaching war."

"Sarevok's contact said Commander Dosan was taking bribes to manipulate the Duke," Anna joined in. "If there is any correspondence between the two, it might back up that claim. It would be something, at least."

"B-but where to begin?" Khalid pondered. "We h-have very little time. This v-violence will not go long unnoticed."

It did seem an impossible task. The room was filled with cases and bureaus of all description, and that did not even appear to be Anchev's office. Any evidence would be hard to sort out from the usual plethora of business papers, assuming the man had kept any incriminating details lying around at all.

...

In the haze of battle and lotus smoke none of them seemed to notice a figure stepping in through the door. At least, not until he let out a bone-chilling scream.

_"Murder! Oh, Master—murder!"_

Anna looked up in shock. An unassuming-looking manservant stood there, clutching his hands to his hair. He stared for a moment at the scene as if trying to wrap his mind around the horror, but then he promptly fled back into the hall.

"Stop him!" Jaheira cried.

Kivan saw to the task. He sprinted from the room and Anna soon heard a scuffling cry in the hallway. The ranger dragged the wailing servant back and shut the door.

_"Murder! Murder!"_ he kept shouting. "Oh, you'll kill me too! I've not done anything! Oh, murder!"

"Will you be silent?" Jaheira demanded. "We have no interest in killing you. Who are you? Are you in Rieltar's employ?"

"I work for the Anchevs," the man gasped. "My name is Perevan. I'm a night duty servant. But you killed the master! Why?"

"Did you not know your employer was a criminal of the highest order?" Ajantis said. "He has been seeking a war with Amn!"

The man stared at him. "We all knew the master wasn't the...kindest of men. Still, he paid well, so most of us stayed. But war? What are you speaking of?"

"Never mind that for now," Jaheira continued. "Where is your other master, the younger Anchev? Is he here?"

"You're going to kill him too, aren't you?" the man exclaimed.

_"Tell us _where he is," she growled, and the man's cries reduced to a low whimper.

"He's here. He just came home. The elder master says to tell him when his son comes home—oh, we'll all be killed!"

"Can someone not silence this man?" Jaheira said as he let out another burst. Xan stepped forward, but the door suddenly opened again.

_"Finn!"_

Anna saw nothing else. Finn stood there, alive and whole, staring at the scene with a blank expression. She ran straight into his arms and he drew her into a tight embrace.

"Gods, Anna—why are you...fucking hells, what happened here?" he exclaimed.

"You...killed my father?"

Anna glanced at the figure standing next to Finn. She never thought it possible that Sarevok's calm face could register such a shock, but so it was.

"You are surprised?" Jaheira spat. "Finn, where have you been?"

Finn still stared at the carnage blankly, but he shook it away.

"Sarevok said to meet him at his lady's place...we were there, talking...fucking hells, did you just come here and kill Rieltar Anchev?"

Jaheira nearly looked fit to crack, but the servant began wailing again.

"Murder, Master! They killed your father! They killed all of them! We must run!"

Sarevok likewise shook off his surprise, and held out a hand to silence the man.

"No, Perevan...they are not here for us. You can go back to your duties."

"But...but, Master!" he stammered. "We must call the guards—"

_"No!" _Sarevok said brutally, and the man cowered before him. "No guards. No one is to be called. Not until I say. Do you understand me?"

"Yes...yes, sir. But...but what of all _this?"_

He gestured with wide eyes at the gore. Blood was everywhere in the room; it soaked the carpets, it was spattered against the fine tapestries and expensive books. And in the midst of it all were the bodies of men, men ravaged enough to look like they'd been in a fight with a dragon.

"Just leave this," Sarevok said. "I will deal with everything. Now, go back to your duties. And say _nothing _to anyone, do I make myself plain?"

Sarevok used a tone borrowed straight from his departed father, and the plainness of his words couldn't be doubted. The servant gulped and stumbled away out of the room, forgetting even to shut the door behind him.

...

"Can he be trusted?" Xan asked.

"Well enough," Anchev said. "For now he will likely be cowering in a cupboard. But tell me, how did you come to be at blows with my father?"

"Why should it matter to you?" Jaheira spat. "You came here with the same intention in mind, did you not?"

"To storm into my father's chamber single handed, and engage him in battle?" Sarevok said, letting out a harsh laugh. "I hope you do not think me such a fool. No. Bloodshed would undoubtedly have come, but not this night."

"But Finn...you were...you said," Anna stammered.

Her stomach began to feel truly sick. The putrid air of that room bore down on her heavily.

"I admit I was spoiling for a fight," Finn replied. "But Anchev talked me into holding off till we could get his father's papers in hand. That's why we came back here. He said his father would be tucked up in here and we could have a look around the place without much worry."

"Indeed. My father is too dangerous to simply accost, although you seem to have managed quite well," Sarevok said, almost languidly.

"And we have...joined in a slaughter for your benefit," Ajantis growled. "By Helm, fate has been on your side tonight."

Anchev turned to him with a scowl. "Do you expect me to apologise? I commanded you to do nothing. But you know as well my father was a villain. You may well have stopped a war here tonight, if that has any meaning to you. But you cannot stay here. The coming daylight will reveal what has happened, and I have no means to protect you. The Flaming Fist will be seeking all your heads."

"No...no," Finn said. "I can talk to them. I can do something. They knew your father was crooked too."

"No more crooked than Dosan, and the Duke he now controls," Sarevok said gravely. "You would stand no chance in his prison. Go now. I will seek out the evidence we need. My father has grown careless of late, and I should find something soon.

"And we are just meant to trust your benevolence?" Jaheira exclaimed. "I for one do not trust you enough to place my neck in your hands."

"Then stay here and await your fate," Sarevok barked back. "I could summon the Fist now if you choose."

"Perhaps he is c-correct, my love," Khalid said. "If the Fist find us h-here no good will come of it."

"No good will come of anything this night, mark my words," his wife rejoined. "We have hours yet before sunrise. Let us search the place together. If this evidence exists I wish to see it with my own eyes."

"I agree," Xan said. "We face death either way, and our flight would seem nothing but suspicious."

Sarevok's mouth became a thin line. "Very well. Searching together we may stand a better chance. I shall show you to my father's office. But...I pray you, leave me one moment with him. Vile though he was, the man was my father."

"As you wish. But do not mourn too long," Jaheira said acidly.

...

They turned their backs on the carnage and filed into the hall. Anna glanced over her shoulder to see Sarevok kneeling over the broken remains of the man who was once his father. Once out in the corridor Jaheira wasted little time in taking Finn to task.

"You...you _idiot," _she stammered. "We were...there are no words, Finn. None."

The druid vibrated with a rage seldom seen in her cool exterior. Anna felt her own fault begin to creep over her—had she not been so convinced Finn was walking to his death, perhaps the conflict could have been avoided. But how was she to know?

"Don't blame me for this," he growled back. "Nobody forced you down here. Besides, the bastard is dead now. That's not wholly a bad thing."

"Do you have a death wish?" Jaheira said. "What good is his death if it brings about our own?"

"I'm not going to let that happen," Finn replied.

"Such a comfort you are, then," the druid hissed. "I do not know why I should worry at all, with you in command of all you survey."

"Will you both stop, please?" Anna suddenly burst out. "We have enough trouble for now. Rieltar was going to have us killed, you heard him. He wasn't innocent."

"And what of the others? We have no idea what those men were truly doing there. They could well have been discussing an underhanded business deal for all we know. I never claimed Rieltar was innocent, and I am not sorry he is dead. But we cannot afford to make such assumptions," Jaheira replied.

"Funny, I thought that's what Harpers did all the time," Finn grumbled. "Your lot don't exactly work within the law, do you?"

That seemed like the straw which broke the camel's back. Jaheira's face took on an indescribable expression, enough that Khalid reached quickly for her shoulder. However, the expected explosion was cut short by the sounds of heavy boots on the stairs.

"Stand where you are!" a guard shouted. Anna whirled to see four armed men breaking up the steps, their weapons drawn.

"Hold, my good man," Jaheira began. "We mean you no harm."

"I kind of doubt that," the guard replied. "Now put down your weapons if you value your lives. This house is crawling with guards, and more will be on their way."

There seemed little else they could do. Xan however stepped forward and spoke quietly.

"But would you not rather take a rest? It is so very late after all, you must be in great need of sleep..."

The guards all yielded to his command, clattering over like bowling pins. The door to Rieltar's chamber opened and Sarevok stepped out.

"What is this? I heard voices," he began.

"Your servant must have summoned the guards," Ajantis said. "He said more would come. Could you not make them stand down?"

"I could, but it would matter little," Sarevok said, shaking his head. "If Perevan told them Father was murdered he would have already called the Flaming Fist. And I cannot be seen to be collaborating with you here, or my own life could be in danger. You must go! Trust me, please. I will manage this."

He looked at them all imploringly. Anna desperately wished she had Xan's gifts, anything to see through that mask. That he was dishonest she didn't doubt, but was Sarevok Anchev their friend? Anna didn't know what to think, she only knew she wanted out of that house. Finn looked at her and she gave him a pained expression.

"Alright, then. But if you double cross us..." he said.

"I am as good as my word. Now, go! Keep your ears open for news, I am certain there will be some soon," Sarevok said.

"Yes, our description on wanted posters, no doubt," Jaheira remarked. "But I little feel like facing the Flaming Fist at this moment. We shall go."

"Good. Where shall you be, if I need to find you?" Anchev asked.

"Now that we're not telling," Finn replied. "Come on, move out!"

He was hardly in the position to be giving orders, but the others seemed more than willing to heed him. They left Sarevok staring after them as they hurried down the hall, making their escape back into the night.


	88. Hold on to your Friends

"So, where are we going then?" Finn breathed as they fled down the empty streets.

"Are you asking our opinion?" Jaheira hissed. "I'd just assumed you'd have a plan up your copious sleeves."

"Will you lay off?" he growled back. "I didn't make you go there. I didn't make you kill Anchev. What's done is done. Now we just need to figure how to get out of it."

"Yes, enough of this," Khalid said. "We d-do not need to be f-fighting each other now."

They collapsed up against an alley wall, straining for breath. Anna had little idea where they even were. She saw nothing as they fled the compound. A darkness more grim than the rainy night surrounded her like a fog.

"Our associates would give the best shelter," Jaheira said. "Unless Finn has an objection to working with such law-breakers."

He glared at her but thankfully said nothing. Anna broke into another coughing fit and he rubbed her back rather roughly.

"My temple would not sanction suspected criminals," Ajantis replied. "If the Harpers may aid us, so be it."

"Yes...come. There is a safehouse not some distance from here," the druid sighed.

They set off again down the empty alleys. Some early morning signs of life were appearing—here and there people could be seen on the greying streets, and from somewhere a cock crowed. No sun would rise that morning but dawn was not far away.

In their haste they soon reached another ramshackle building. This one looked part destroyed by a long-forgotten fire, and nothing remained of the roof but charred beams. The remnants of dead weeds and other refuse filled the garden. Jaheira guided them around back and pressed her pin up against the barred door. It swung open on her command and she ushered them inside.

"I believe we will find this deserted," she said quietly. "The Harpers rarely make use of it."

In the grey darkness and Anna could see why. Water from the missing roof had sunk down the walls, leaving the brick and floorboards covered in slime. It seemed too much to hope that the effect was an illusion. Jaheira went to a trapdoor in the floor and tugged hard on the iron ring. It swung open with a creak and she gestured for them to follow.

"This shelter is in the cellar?" Xan remarked dubiously.

"I fear so," Khalid replied. "It is not so h-homely as our last."

Cautiously Anna made her way down the creaking steps, then standing in darkness till a spark flashed out. Thankfully the cellar below had some improvement from the upstairs; the stone walls had been whitewashed and the floor was mostly free of mould. But the air still was damp and it felt bitterly cold. A table was there and a few chairs were scattered around the room, but there was no fireplace to be seen.

"There are a few chambers in the back, though none have beds," Jaheira sighed. "We shall have to make our bed on stone for the time being."

"What about a fire?" Anna asked, clutching her cloak tightly around her.

"We can manage a small one on the floor, but there is no chimney here. My worry for the moment is provisions—there is nothing stocked, and going out into the city is not wise."

"So we are to sit here until we die of starvation, or the Flaming Fist come seeking our heads," Xan complained. "A more ideal situation I cannot imagine. Perhaps we would have been better off in prison."

"This place is like a cave, but at least we have our liberty," Kivan said. "I would not trade that myself, _heruamin."_

Xan snorted but didn't reply. He sat down onto one of the chairs and jumped as it wobbled.

"We shall have to take a ch-chance," Khalid said to his wife. "Besides, we m-must tell the others what has occurred."

"Not a conversation I long to have," Jaheira remarked. "But we may as well try to rest for a time. It is too early for the markets, regardless."

She reached into a cupboard that proved barren as predicted. Little more than a few bits of crockery were inside, but there was a box of tapers. Finn lit a candle off hers and reached for Anna's hand.

"Let's see what this bedchamber is like, aye?"

Anna didn't truly want to find out, but she followed him. Off a narrow hall stood three wooden doors. Finn gave the last one a push and they ventured into the room. The atmosphere was stale and damp, with a vaguely foul odour rising up from a small metal drain. No furniture of any kind was there, just the cold, barren stone. Looking at it Anna's eyes began to smart.

"Oh, Finn—" she began.

"Alright, alright." He wrapped his arms around her tenderly as he could in chainmail. "It's alright."

"How?" she choked. "How is it alright?"

"Well...we're both here."

He gave her a little smile and Anna let out something between a laugh and a sob. They certainly were there. No romance or idle dreams could disguise that place.

Finn stuck the candle in a crack in the floor and peeled off his armour. He laid down and gestured for her to join him. Resignedly she did, but rather than let her lie on the cold stone he directed her on top of him. Finn wrapped her cloak around the pair of them and held her tight. Turning his head he blew out the candle, leaving them in utter darkness.

Anna screwed her eyes shut and pressed her face into his chest. The darkness was like that of the cave, and even with her eyes closed she couldn't escape it. She coughed nervously and Finn rubbed her back.

"Not the best place here with your cold," he remarked.

"That's the least of our worries," she said.

She could feel the warmth of his body underneath her and it was some comfort. But she did not want to admit just how much she actually hurt just then.

"It's too late now, but maybe after dark I can try to find the captain," Finn continued. "He'd believe our story. He could help us."

"Are you sure?" she asked sharply. "Finn, all of the Flaming Fist is probably hunting for us. You can't go to them. They won't help."

"I didn't want you to get messed up in this," he said, almost to himself.

"Well, I am. And I'm never not going to be. We're all in this now."

"Are you...angry with me?"

His voice was hesitant. Anna shut her eyes tight against the darkness again.

"I don't...I don't know how to answer that," she coughed.

Finn didn't reply and she clung to his jacket almost in desperation. Angry? She'd never felt more relieved than when she saw him walk through that door. But he'd pulled her into a hole with no escape. Now they were all trapped, and no recriminations, no words really seemed to matter. They were trapped, and they both knew it.

Except for Anna's strained coughs they both fell silent. Through the door she could hear Jaheira's shrill tones debating something she'd rather not hear. The weariness of her limbs overtook her though and she fell asleep.

...

Movement and light woke her. Underneath her Finn was stirring, and Khalid stood over them with a light.

"We have a m-meal ready, if you would like," he said.

Finn groaned something in reply and Khalid departed. Anna moved her stiff body off of his carefully.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, love. Just a bit of a sore back."

He tried to sound jokey but she wasn't in the mood for laughter. Exhausted she followed Khalid out of the room. A small fire burned on the stone floor, barely high enough to heat the iron pot that hung above it on a tripod. The others all sat around the flames eating something from wooden bowls. Jaheira looked up at Anna and Finn's entrance.

"We have porridge. It is rather thin, but we must take care with the food. It will be hard to come by."

She seemed more level than before, but the druid's tone was still strained and she avoided looking Finn in the eye.

"Sounds good to me," he said. "What all did you get?"

"Oats and rice, and some lentils. And salted meat. We managed a little wine, but we should water it as much as possible," Jaheira said mechanically.

"I would like some wine, if I may," Anna coughed.

"There, in the cupboard," she replied. "There is a bucket of water at hand."

Anna felt more in need of wine than food; the porridge she knew would just stick in her throat. Finn though began devouring his like a starving man.

"What hour is it?" he asked.

"Afternoon," was Jaheira's reply.

They all fell back to their eating. Anna sat on the cold floor, trying to keep her cloak wrapped as tightly as possible around her as she ate. The little fire's precious heat did nothing to warm the damp cellar, and she vibrated with a strange cold. Whether it was from nerves or her illness she couldn't tell.

"Is there any news, then?" Finn asked after a time.

Jaheira remained silent, and Ajantis spoke.

"None which we know of. Though we did not think to stop a Flaming Fist patrol and ask if we were wanted."

"How long do we stay here?" Anna asked quietly.

"For as long as we must," Jaheira said. "I hope Dermin will be able to aid us in some way. We managed to send a message for him to meet us here. Hopefully he will come after dark."

Anna sighed and looked at the cold, lumpen oats in the bowl. She should be more hungry, but the tasteless food held no interest. Only the heat of the wine felt good in her stomach.

"I would go and seek this Anchev myself rather than wait for him to find us," Kivan spoke. "We have no reason to trust his word."

"It would get us out of this cellar, at least," Xan muttered. "I do not even have my spellbook."

"No. Roaming about the city is not wise," Jaheira said. "We do not want to risk any confrontation with the authorities."

"I can't fight the Fist, no matter what," Finn said.

"None of us wishes to. But the best way to avoid battle is not to go seeking one," Ajantis replied.

Whether there was a double edge to that remark Anna couldn't tell. She left the pathetic fire and went to go sit by the wall.

Another fit of coughing took her and she struggled to find a clean place in her handkerchief. By then it was thoroughly soaked with the sputum her pained lungs coughed up, and she was glad she couldn't really see it in the dark. Her body ached and her breath rattled and wheezed. Jaheira left the fire and came to her.

"That cough sounds ugly. Have you had it long?" she asked.

"Days now," Anna choked.

"There is little I can give you," the druid said. "Perhaps we should have chanced a visit to an apothecary."

"I'll be fine," Anna said. "Just...I can never rest anymore. I am just...tired."

Her words carried a depth of meaning unrevealed by her rasping tone. Jaheira nodded.

"Perhaps you should lie down then. This place is far from comfortable, but you might try to rest."

Anna did try. She folded her cloak over to try and grant some cushioning from the cold floor, but then she shivered with the damp of the air. Finn came to her and draped his thick cloak around her body. Anna smiled at him in the dark, but she hoped somehow he would leave her be. Finn squeezed her shoulder then went to sit by the fire. When he was gone though Anna wanted him near.

Time seemed to stop in that place, punctuated by nothing other than Anna's cough and remnants of hushed conversation. Anna began to wonder if the outside world ever existed at all. Sunshine and warmth were little more than abstract memories, something called from a dream. Like the memory of what it felt like to be well they seemed too hard to recall.

...

Finally though something did happen. They heard footsteps on the floor above. Anna sat up in alarm, wondering for a moment who might be there. The trapdoor opened a crack, and a strange codeword was hissed through.

"We are here," Jaheira replied eagerly. The door opened fully and two figures hurried down the stairs. Anna could see little of their hooded faces but the voice she recognised.

"Jaheira," Dermin remarked. "Oh, Jaheira. How did you end up in this place?"

"We have been asking ourselves the same question," she replied. "But we are very glad to see you."

She pulled out two chairs but the Harpers didn't sit. The other figure was a woman by the size of her, but she remained in her cloak and said nothing.

"I wish I could say the same. The Flaming Fist has issued public warrants for the arrest of persons matching your description, on the charge of murder. This is grim indeed, Jaheira."

The group had been silent, but they fell more silent still. Somehow hearing the grave Harper speak those words made them painfully real.

"That's Dosan's doing," Finn said heatedly. "He's corrupt. He was working with Rieltar Anchev."

"And do you have proof of this?" Dermin remarked. "Anchev may not have been a popular figure in this city but his death has still come as a shock. People are nervous with events and some are whispering that Amn may have played a hand. And regardless of his corruption, unprovoked murder is still a crime, as you might imagine."

"And why would Amn want Rieltar dead?" Finn exclaimed. "That doesn't make sense."

"They are rumours, young man. They do not need to follow logic."

Jaheira cleared her throat. "Sarevok Anchev has said he will search for proof of his father's corruption. Of course his word is dubious, but even so—"

"Dubious is an understatement," Dermin interrupted. "He is second in charge of the Iron Throne on the Sword Coast, and anything he says is open to great suspicion. _First_ in charge, now that his father is dead. I did warn you on becoming too heavily involved with him, did I not? Some allies we are better off without."

Jaheira didn't seem to know what to say. Anna didn't doubt that she agreed with the Harper Master's point of view, however.

"We know w-what you say is true," Khalid said. "But...circumstances h-have lead us down strange paths h-here."

"Circumstances, or carelessness?" Dermin held his hands behind his back and began pacing slowly near the fire. "I confess, I do not know how much faith I should place in you anymore. And it pains me to say that more than you can imagine. You were ordered south to Tethyr, and you chose to violate those orders. I overlooked that trespass, considering the facts, but now...now, I do not know if I can help you."

"Dermin!" Jaheira exclaimed. "What are you saying?"

"The Harpers cannot appear to be seen in action here," he continued. "And if you face arrest from a murder more worthy of common tavern adventurers, I do not know how we can shield you. It would damage the entire organisation and greatly harm our work on this coast. All I can offer you is escape. We can arrange for you to leave this country in secret."

"I see," the druid said slowly. "Tempting though that might be, I do not see how we could. There is too much in motion here, and Finn is in the Flaming Fist—"

"You misunderstand me. I meant to offer you and Khalid a means of escape. As for your comrades, we cannot help them."

He avoided looking at the others as he said those words. Jaheira plainly looked taken aback, and she stammered her reply.

"How can this be? Harpers have never failed to aid our friends. And Khalid and I could never abandon them to their fates, especially not when we have played as much a hand in these affairs as they."

Dermin though looked irritated. "I did not say the Harpers would cease to work here. Only that _you _would cease. You and Khalid are a liability that we do not need at the present time. We have no wish to overlook your years of faithful service, however—"

"D-Dermin, what is this?" Khalid interrupted. "Who is 'we'? Who decided? W-we could not abandon our friends, and y-you know this."

"And what of abandoning your kin?" the woman finally spoke. "We all must play the score we are given, whether it is what we would choose to play or no. You understand this. Duty to the whole comes first."

"Peace, Reviane," Dermin said. "I am certain Khalid and Jaheira understand this well. But this is the only offer I will give. Think of the Harpers, my friends. We have need of you."

Jaheira stared at the man blankly. They all did—the others sat still around the fire, listening like children to the conversation. Finally though the druid spoke slowly.

"I understand the nature of your concerns, Dermin. But to come here and stand before us all, saying that you would slip our necks out of the noose while leaving our comrades to hang—it is beyond me. Why are you ever so determined to prevent us from doing what we were assigned? Any number of our kin might have been sent to Tethyr. We had made progress here. You were my teacher and I respect you, but this I cannot fathom."

Dermin scowled in reply. "It is because your mission was flawed from the beginning. I had no say then, but I do now. And I greatly question your measure of 'progress'. The offer stands as it is—leave now, or expect no aid in the future."

Anna coughed nervously into her handkerchief, but no one paid any attention. Jaheira and Dermin remained in a staring match till the druid shook her head and turned away. She glanced at Khalid. He gave her a slight smile and a nod. At once Jaheira pulled the Harper pin from her jerkin, and handed it to a surprised Dermin.

"As you would have it, then," she said.

She cleared her throat roughly but her eyes were shining bright. Khalid likewise turned over his pin and Dermin stepped back to look at the pair.

"I do wish you would reconsider this."

"As do I for you," Jaheira replied. "But you must have known when you came here that there could be only one answer."

"I had hoped differently, but it shall be as you say. I will keep these on the chance you might deign to wear them again. In the meantime, however, I must report your actions. I regret to say it will leave a blot on your standing with us," he said gravely.

"If it is a blot to stand by one's friends, then that is a shame I am willing to bear," Jaheira said, though her voice was thick. "Do you wish us to leave this place?"

"I would not entirely abandon you to the wolves," Dermin replied. "But it would be best if you found another shelter as soon as possible. Remember, you are now working outside the Harpers, and until these pins find your breast again we will not consider you kin. Farewell—and good fortune, for whatever that might be worth."

He and the Harper woman turned without another word. Anna fancied though that for one moment his eyes rested on Finn, and the look he gave him was one near disgust. Dermin mounted the stairs but at the last Reviane turned and spoke quietly to Jaheira.

"If you insist on this, I cannot stop you," she said. "And truth be told I cannot say I blame you. If you seek shelter, look for a man called Basio at the Dancing Bear tavern in the docks. He is quite good at hiding those who do not wish to be seen."

"Thank you, Reviane. I hope though it shall not come to that," Jaheira said grimly.

The woman nodded and departed up the steps. The trapdoor shut with a clatter and the steps retreated across the kitchen once more.

...

"Gods, Jaheira—I didn't," Finn began. "You could have left. I don't think we'd blame you."

"No, Finn, we could not," she said slowly. "But by the great mallet of Silvanus, I will not tolerate any more of your attempts at vigilantism. You are an officer of the Flaming Fist and you must act like one! You put us all in terrible danger, whether you intended to or not. And if you continue down this path, then only death will follow."

Jaheira turned and fixed him with her bleakest glare. Finn scowled and looked away.

"I'd say death is going to follow us no matter what. Like a starving dog he is, and we can't shake him."

"That would certainly be your perspective, considering," she replied. "But remember there is life here as well, and we cannot chance it on folly. I do not think that is what Gorion taught you, if I had any measure of him at all."

The mention of Gorion's name seemed to startle him, as it always did. He opened his mouth to reply but Anna conveniently broke into a rather loud coughing fit.

"Can't you do something for her?" Finn asked instead.

"If I could I would have before now," Jaheira sighed. "But using my gifts to heal such an affliction is difficult—the accelerated healing might well cause her lungs to fill with fluid. It would take one with greater skills than mine, I am afraid."

"I didn't know the gods were so selective in their blessings," he grumbled. "Isn't healing just healing?"

"No, and if you had those gifts you would understand that," she remarked. "We all are granted different gifts for different purposes. My prayers can heal wounds taken on the battlefield, but some other illnesses are beyond me. For those I have herbs, which are a blessing in their own right. But I am sorry to say I do not even have that at this moment."

Finn snorted and sat next to the fire, where he began to examine his weapon idly. Anna coughed again and wondered what direction his strange gifts would take.

"Well. Though D-Dermin did not say in so many words, I d-do not think we are welcome here any longer," Khalid remarked.

"No," Jaheira sighed again. "And perhaps he is right. But where to flee? Reviane mentioned her contact, but I have no knowledge of the man myself. We do not know if he would even be willing to aid us."

"My associates are not currently in the city," Xan said. "And I could not ask their involvement, regardless. You are not the only ones with reputation to consider."

"Perhaps we would be best served trying to find a way out of the city," Kivan suggested. "We could conceal ourselves much better in the woodlands than here."

"But then we might as well leave entirely," Ajantis added. "The danger and the answers we seek are both within these walls."

Finn continued cleaning his sword and said nothing. The others carried on with the issue but Ajantis came and sat next to Anna.

"I wonder," he began. "Jaheira said she had not the skills to heal you, but perhaps I might try. A paladin's call is somewhat different to a druid's. If you would like, of course."

"I could hardly be worse," Anna coughed in reply. "Yes, please try."

Ajantis gave her a little smile. "Very well. But...if you would not object, it might be best to retreat to a chamber. It would be more quiet there."

Anna let out a rattling laugh. "Of course. I am certain you will remain a gentleman, Sir Ajantis."

He nodded automatically, but then his face took on a strange expression and Anna fancied his ears were turning red.

Ajantis took up a taper and they went in back without a word to the others. Finn looked up in some surprise at her departure but he still said nothing. Ajantis set the candle in a rusted wall sconce while Anna waited.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Just sit here if you would, my lady. Ah, perhaps I should fetch a pair of chairs?"

"The floor is fine," Anna remarked.

They sat across from one another, cross-legged on the cold stone floor. Ajantis took one of her hands in his and placed the other on her brow.

"Now," he said. "Silence. The world is filled with much noise, so much that clouds our thoughts. To hear we must be still. For now, just breathe."

Anna fell silent at his command, or as much as she could with her rattling breath. She remarked at how different Ajantis seemed at that moment—his reserve and shyness fell away like a shroud as he lost himself in that stillness. She ventured a glance at him before shutting her eyes. His face looked pale, but as always the light reflected off his flame-coloured hair that seemed so at odds with his personality.

Ajantis kept his palm to her forehead for a long while, and she tried her best to follow him into the stillness. She began to imagine an unknown garden, one that was lush and peaceful. Flowers of blue and gold bobbed gently in an invisible breeze, guided by lightly swaying trees. Just the presence of it in her mind's eye was calming and the cold stone slipped away.

She forgot even how much her lungs pained, but somehow the vision broke enough for her to feel that fire again. Anna coughed harshly and Ajantis' hand moved from her brow to her chest.

"Silence," he spoke quietly.

Anna began to feel a different kind of heat begin to rise. She felt almost as if she could touch the illness in her lungs, that she could feel it festering there like a wound. She let out a slight noise of pain but Ajantis squeezed her hand and she was still. In what seemed a very slow motion she began to feel that wound beginning to close. Coolness replaced the heat and she drew deeper breaths, each one more free than the last. She began to breathe long and deep, taking in sweet air like one exhausted from exercise.

"Praise Helm," Ajantis spoke, and Anna finally opened her eyes. "Are you well, my lady?"

"Yes," she said quietly. She felt her chest; it didn't hurt and she had no desire to cough. "Yes—yes, thank you."

Ajantis smiled. "It was little of my doing. Truth be known, I was not sure if the Watcher would answer my plea or no. But he saw fit that you should be healed."

"Then I thank him," Anna replied.

It felt strange to suddenly be relieved of her illness, and the effect left her somewhat lightheaded. She laughed a little and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Perhaps we should join the others again," Ajantis said, breaking himself from his reverie and regaining his old tone. "You might take some wine, my lady."

"No, I'd...like to sit here a moment," she replied.

"Of course. A sudden healing can be weakening in its own right."

"Oh, I can _breathe," _she sighed thankfully. Even the musty, foul scent of the cellar couldn't interrupt that joy.

"A blessing. And I am glad. It was difficult to watch you suffering so," Ajantis said.

Anna smiled at him. On impulse she squeezed his hand again, and his eyes crinkled up.

"I do hope Finn does not walk in at this moment. It might be awkward."

She tried to laugh but was startled by another cough; perhaps her healing had not been complete. Ajantis looked concerned.

"Forgive me, but is it well with you? With Finn's actions recently...it must be quite difficult to bear."

"Yes," she said, reaching again for her filthy handkerchief.

"Here...mine is clean," Ajantis said.

Anna smiled at him again as she took the cloth, but somehow she felt her eyes begin to smart.

"You...this will interrupt your plans to return home," she said. "Although, you could always find the road now."

"It is as Jaheira said," he replied. "But I ask again—are you well?"

Anna looked up at him, surprised. Her mouth twitched and she wasn't sure how to speak.

"I do not know much of married life," he said slowly. "But I know love is a great healer...if taken wisely. If it is brittle it can only harm."

She looked at him in even more surprise. "What do you mean? I love Finn...too much, I fear sometimes. He is my life. But..."

"I did not mean that. But sometimes pain bars that path," Ajantis replied. "Love can inspire men to the greatest heights, or it can make them behave as utter fools. I feel sometimes that Finn is following the latter. I saw that, when you were taken with the poison...that desperation he had. Like some beast protecting his mate—forgive me, that is an inappropriate analogy."

He looked embarrassed but Anna shook her head.

"No, perhaps you are right. Though I would be desperate too, had our places been reversed."

"I should have thought a great deal less of him if he hadn't," Ajantis began. "But a man must still keep his head. I fear he has now gone down the same path again, charging blindly with only one goal in mind."

"He didn't attack Rieltar because of _me," _Anna said, her voice descending into a loud whisper.

"Perhaps not," he admitted. "You should ignore my ramblings. What do I know of a man and his lady? I have never even laid eyes on mine."

"And you are a wiser man than you give yourself credit for. I know Finn wants to protect me. But...who is to protect me from him? That _anger _he has...you warned me of it once. And I knew. We were happy in Beregost. He was happy. Or at least, I thought he was. Now, it's there again, and I—"

"He has not struck you, has he?" Ajantis said sharply.

"No," Anna said, startled. "No, of course not."

She remembered the other night, but grabbing her shoulder was hardly the same as striking.

"Forgive me, I should not have asked," he sighed again. "Please, continue."

"I don't," she hesitated. "I don't know what there is to really say."

She began to feel somewhat conscious of their conversation, wary of the low voices she could hear outside the door. What could she say? Finn's anger frightened her. He never did, but that within him—that blackness he seemed to have at times, like something alien had seized him... She blinked for a moment, staring at the floor, trying hard to remember something forgotten. She'd misplaced something, but she didn't know what it was.

"My lady?" Ajantis spoke.

"Nothing," she said, giving herself a little shake. "Perhaps we should go to the others now."

"If you wish. But I am always here to speak, if you would like. With Helm's grace perhaps we shall be able to sit before a fire soon, and speak as civilised people."

Anna laughed a little. "A novelty, for certain."

...

Ajantis laughed as well, but she thought his eyes looked rather sad. They rose stiffly from the floor and he pulled the half-melted taper from its spot on the wall. Silently they wandered back towards the dim firelight. Jaheira looked up at their approach.

"Is everything well?" she asked.

"Yes," Ajantis said, clearing his throat. "Helm has proven merciful, and Lady Anna's cough has been healed."

An odd look passed over the druid's face—surprise tinged with perhaps a bit of jealousy. Though she often complained of her duties her role as healer meant a great deal to her, Anna knew. Jaheira brushed it aside though and gave them a slight smile.

"Then I am very grateful to here that. We have been discussing our next move. We will try and find this Basio—though we must commandeer a boat of some sort to cross the river. The guards will surely be watching the bridge. Then we will go seeking Sarevok Anchev. If he has betrayed us we will know by then."

"It seems all we can do," Ajantis responded.

Jaheira nodded and busied herself with preparing another meagre feast. Khalid sat near at hand, staring into the flames. Xan sat like a grey blob wrapped in his cloak, likewise staring at the fire with a grim expression. He drew a deep breath and sighed. Anna couldn't see Kivan but somehow she sensed the ranger's presence in a corner of the room.

Anna seated herself next to Finn, who sat a few feet back from the fire. He looked at her as she sat down.

"Are you really all right now?" he asked.

"Yes," she smiled. "I feel fine."

"That's good, then," he said, somewhat mechanically.

"Are you all right?" she asked in turn.

Something in his face troubled her. It wasn't anger, more like a sadness. She reached out and took his hand, and he clenched it tight.

"Yeah, Anna, I'm fine," he sighed.

Anna didn't really know what to think. She leaned into him and cuddled tight against his body. Finn pulled her closer and caressed her shoulder gently.

They ate a thin pottage of lentils and rice with some salted meat for flavouring. Anna had considerably more appetite than before and she ate hers greedily. They had no bread for sops so she had to drink straight from the bowl, sending some of the pottage dribbling down her chin. She was not much in the mood to care about appearances, however.

"We should depart when we have finished eating," Jaheira said quietly. "It must be past the midnight hour now."

A tenseness settled down into the cellar. They had faced monsters and brigands and madmen too numerous to count, but this was entirely different. The entire city would be hunting them. Anna felt that chill, like being a rabbit trapped in a hole as the hounds circled round. One way or another they would be flushed out. Their only hope was to outrun their pursuers.

"It w-would be wise if we split into g-groups," Khalid added. "A few w-would attract less attention than the l-lot of us making our escape."

"Yes. We should meet by the Baldurian Tavern, as we all know where that is. But then we must take to the sewers," Jaheira said.

"The sewers?" Anna spoke.

"We have no hope of getting out of the city walls otherwise," Jaheira said. "The gate will be too well guarded. But there are drainage portals which lead to the riverbank, and hopefully we can make our escape through them."

Anna's heart fell even further. Tromping through the sewers in the dark was a vile prospect indeed.

"I still say we ought to find my captain," Finn said. "He'd help, I know it—"

His words suddenly died in his throat. The sound of heavy boots echoed against the floor above. Anna heard men's voices and her heart froze entirely.

Jaheira swiftly held up a hand, petitioning them all for silence. They sat petrified and still as the boots circled round. A hand tried the trapdoor, but the magic bolt held fast. A few word could be heard, but then came a jarring crash. The wood of the door splintered as it struggled to hold against the onslaught.

"Get...get back," Jaheira said, her voice unusually high. They left their bowls and the fire, clustering together away from the door. Anna clung to Finn's arm, feeling her heart vibrating in her chest. The wood splintered again and finally gave way.

Dark figures and men's voices rushed into the room. The group circled tighter but didn't move. The intruders approached the fire and Anna felt fit to collapse seeing the red jerkins and pale steel swords reflected in the flames.

"You there—throw down your weapons!" one commanded. "We arrest you in the name of the Flaming Fist!"

"Alright, lads," Finn said slowly. "We don't want trouble. I'm one of your own."

"Aye, we know," a familiar voice spoke. "And we don't like it much more than you."

"Mick?" Finn said in surprise. "You know...you've been looking for me?"

The man stepped into the firelight and Anna recognised him as their neighbour, his normally jovial face serious and grave.

"Afraid so," Mick replied. "I couldn't believe it meself. But that's our orders. You're wanted for the murder of Rieltar Anchev, and near a dozen other men besides. For the love of Tyr, Finn—what the hells did you do?"

"You don't think I just go around murdering folks, do you?" he replied angrily. "It was Anchev. He's the one that's been causing all this trouble with Amn. He's been manipulating Duke Eltan. You've got to believe me."

"I'd like to. We've shared enough pints together, and I think you're a good bloke. But we've got a job to do and we can't go against orders. You'd understand that."

"Just...talk to Captain Dessander, won't you?" Finn said, his voice sounding increasingly desperate. "He knows. Dosan is corrupt, he was taking money from Anchev. I need to talk to the captain."

"Sorry, mate, but it was Captain Dessander that signed our orders," Mick said. "I don't reckon he had much choice. After the affair with that Lothander fellow—it don't look good, Finn. We've got to bring you in. Now, drop your weapons and line up against that wall."

There wasn't anything else they could do. Anna had no weapons to drop so she pressed her back against the hard stone. The others slowly unbelted their weapons and laid them on the floor, all but for Xan.

"I am sorry, but I cannot remove my blade. It is an elven Moonblade, and none but myself can touch it without harm. And...I must have it in my possession. My life essence is tied to it, and without it I would fade and die."

He spoke gravely but one of the mercenaries gave him a sceptical look.

"That so, is it?" he said.

"He's telling the truth," Finn remarked. "One touch of that thing and you'd get fried like bacon."

"We can't leave a prisoner with his weapon," the mercenary replied.

"It's alright," Mick said slowly. "He'll be bound anyway. We can take them at their word for once, aye?"

The group captain seemed to agree, but he commanded them to face the wall. Anna turned and shivered against the brick. She jumped as a mercenary's hands touched her waist, but a voice interrupted him.

"Let me do this one, alright?" Mick said.

The mercenary moved on to Ajantis and Mick began his search.

"Sorry about this, pet. Just got to make sure you're not hiding anything. You got any weapons, daggers or anything?"

"No," Anna replied, feeling his hand swiftly exploring her body. They went up underneath her skirts and she shuddered.

"Right then, I believe you," Mick said. He tried to sound something like his old self but it fell painfully flat. He gathered her wrists behind her back and she felt the cold touch of iron closing around them.

"That all right? Not too tight, is it?"

"No playing favourites with the prisoners," the captain barked at him. "Don't matter who they are, we need to follow the book."

"It's fine," Anna said quietly.

Mick turned her to face him. He looked at her, and his big eyes were sad.

"Right, well—you'll like this one a whole lot less, I'd wager. Sorry, but I know you're a spellcaster, and this is just what we're meant to do."

He pulled out a cloth, and next to her Finn spoke.

"You don't need to do that, do you? Come on, it's Anna. She's not going to do ought."

"I know. I'm sorry. Here, love—open wide."

Mick took hold of her jaw and she gagged as he pushed the rough cloth into her mouth. He took out another cloth and tied it round her jaw, leaving her choking and salivating.

"Right, love. You're done."

He patted her on the shoulder in some attempt at a comforting gesture, then moved on to Finn. He stood stock-still while Mick searched him, his eyes focused on Anna. She felt tears welling up and had to look away.

"They're all searched then?" the captain said after a moment. "Right, then. Let's get them back to base. Prisoners, up the steps."

He barked the command, but there was a hint of a sigh in it. Anna glanced at the others; they were all bound by iron manacles, and Xan was gagged the same as she. At least they'd left him his blade. Kivan's eyes looked like fire but Ajantis and Khalid seemed strangely resigned. She did notice that Jaheira wasn't gagged—perhaps the Fist weren't aware of her abilities, and likely she did not volunteer to tell them. One by one they filed up the creaking, splintered stairs, out into the black night.

...

"This way," the captain said. "There's a wagon waiting."

"You cannot have come across us by chance," Jaheira ventured. "How did you discover our hiding place? Were we seen?"

"No talking," he said in reply.

They shuffled along slowly in single file, flanked by the well-armed Flaming Fist. Anna choked against her gag and looked up at the sky. Overcast—another bleak night. She wished with all her might she could see the stars.

They found the box-like wagon waiting for them around a corner. A patrolman opened up the barred door and began ushering them inside. Anna struggled to climb in with her hands bound, needing to crawl into the dark space virtually on her stomach. A wild thought within her urged an escape to freedom, but she knew the folly of that. The patrolman gave her a hard shove and she found herself on the wagon's wood floor.

"Get in there. Keep moving," he commanded.

Anna did her best, crawling on her knees into a corner. She felt the wagon swaying as other dark blobs climbed aboard, then the door shut with a clang behind them. The driver whipped up the horses and the wagon began swaying away into the night.

"If we can get the gags from our mages' mouths we can free ourselves from the manacles," Kivan hissed quietly. "We yet have a chance."

Anna heard his chains rattling but Jaheira's voice came from the darkness.

"No, Kivan. There is nothing we can do now."

"You mean to abandon ourselves to death?" he replied. "You know as well as I that if we set foot within that prison we shall never walk out again. We must try. Better to die fighting than as a slaughtered beast."

"The Flaming Fist are not our enemy," Jaheira said low. "Those men are following the wagon, and to escape would mean to fight with them. And we do not even have our weapons."

"We have magic, and our fists. They have made their choice with whom to ally. Let them chance their fate."

"And some of them are my mates," Finn spoke. "I'm not going to fight them. We just...have to hope for the best. The captain might..."

"Your captain will do nothing, and you know this," Kivan interrupted. "Do not be a fool. Do you wish your wife to die this night?"

"Don't even—" Finn said angrily, but a sudden pounding of a fist interrupted him.

"Quiet in there!" a mercenary demanded.

The group fell silent and Anna felt her despair begin to rise. The rough gag absorbed all the moisture in her mouth, making her feel like she couldn't swallow. Kivan was right—what chance did they have? With all they knew, or suspected about him Dosan was unlikely to prove merciful. Perhaps Sarevok Anchev could find his evidence in time and prove Dosan's corruption. But the mere fact that she'd pinned her hopes on him was enough to nearly drive Anna to tears.

Eventually she heard the sound of the driver speaking with a guard. She heard the heavy noise of a gate swinging open, and her heart flopped again. The wagon drove onwards then finally drew to a halt.

"Right, then. All out," a mercenary said, throwing open the wagon doors.

Once again they filed away as commanded. They stood in the courtyard of the Flaming Fist compound, the wide space mostly empty in the night. Watchful torches kept the perimeter lit brightly though and she spotted a number of sentries patrolling the walls.

"Greslan will take you down to the cells," Mick said to Finn. "Maybe...hope we get to have a pint again soon."

"I wouldn't bet on it," he replied. "Just talk to the captain, will you? Don't leave us in Dosan's hands. We won't stand a chance."

"Enough chatter," the patrol captain said. "Whatever happens is up to the law now. Now, get moving."

Anna caught Mick's gaze and he tried to give her a little smile. She turned away from him though and followed the others slowly into the compound.

...

They were led down a long, narrow passage, heavy with stone and free of windows. Their steps and the mercenaries' echoed back and forth like the sound of drumbeats. At the end of the hall one of the men drew out a set of keys, opening a door that led to a twisting stair.

"Down you go now. This way," he said.

Anna traversed the narrow steps carefully, afraid of losing her balance with her hands bound. The stair wove around and around, seemingly designed to take them into the Abyss. At last they reached the end and the mercenary drew open another door. A guard on the other side rose up from a chair at their entrance.

"Seven," the mercenary said briefly. "Two women. All charged with murder."

"Aye, I've been told they might be coming in," the guard replied. "Captain said they should be kept separate like, down in the cellars."

_That wasn't the cellar?_ Anna worried, but the mercenary spoke again.

"That so?" he said, sounding surprised. "He must be worried. Right then, they're your lot now."

"Aye. But you want to tell me why the hells that prisoner's got a sword?" the guard said, gesturing at Xan.

He moved towards the elf but he flinched away, and the mercenary spoke.

"Captain said he was a special case. Something about magic, I don't know. He's bound, he's not a threat."

"Best not to be, I've got enough headaches down here as it is."

The mercenary nodded and stepped back through the door, bolting it behind him. The guard called out and several of his comrades appeared from a side-chamber.

"No trouble from you, now," the guard said. "You so much as fidget and the boys will run you through. One sword ain't gonna be enough to save you. Follow me."

He took up a torch and set off down another long hall. On either side were doors of iron bars. Dirty faces of ragged men peered through as they passed, jeering and making catcalls. The guard slammed his fist against a few of them and the occupants retreated, if only briefly. Anna kept her eyes on the floor and tried to close her ears.

The guard unlocked a door and sent them down yet another twisting stair, though at least one shorter than the first. The air there was heavy and it felt damp. The doors were of sturdy, iron-reinforced wood, with only a small square of bars set in them. In alarm Anna heard a sickening cry come from behind one, like death itself had come to call. Thankfully though the cry fell silent.

The guard drew open the last cell and forced them inside. It was about the size of a small bedchamber, scattered with old straw on the floor, and it smelled of mould and stale urine. Long manacles hung down from the ceiling like iron claws. One by one the guards set them against the wall, fixing them in turn to the manacles. Anna was rather too short for hers and her toes barely scraped the stone. The gnawing iron bit into her wrists like fire and she struggled against them.

"Get comfy folks," the guard said cheerily. "The magistrate won't be round till morning. With your charges I'd advise you to spend the time getting reacquainted with your gods. Sleep tight!"

The guards withdrew and the door clanged shut, leaving them in darkness. Anna fought against her bonds with a muffled cry of pain.

"It's all right, love," Finn's rough voice said. "Don't worry."

His words nearly drove tears from her eyes. _Don't worry. Don't worry. _If she could speak she would have screamed at him.

"Perhaps this magistrate will hear our pleas," Ajantis said, though he did not sound optimistic.

"Silvanus aid us. Why were we sent down into this pit?" Jaheira asked grimly. "Is this where they usually house their murder suspects?"

"I don't know much about it," Finn said. "I've only been down here once, and that was enough. I reckon we're just lucky."

_"Oh, you're lucky alright. Ain't we all."_

Anna made a cry in her throat and her heart nearly stopped. A disembodied voice whispered out to them from somewhere in the wall.

"Who the hells?" Finn burst out.

"I can't quite believe it," the voice rasped with laughter. _"Ha! _A bit o' luck for me. Never thought we'd be together again, and that's for sure. Nice and cosy, this is."

A chill ran up Anna's spine; somehow she recognised that voice. That rasping laughter came again and Finn suddenly swore.

"Fook me. _Marek?"_

"The one and the same!" the voice continued. "It were proper nice of you lot to join me down here. I've been awful lonesome—though me curse seems lifted, so I ain't been quite as bored as I might."

His voice almost seemed to come at them like a mouse, from somewhere low on the floor. There must be a vent, Anna thought, and he couldn't be chained like them.

"What're you doing down here?" Finn asked. "I'd have thought they'd have you up in the tank with the rest of the rabble."

"Well, I were. But truth be told, they said I was stirring up trouble. How's it trouble for a man to protest his innocence? How long have I been in this pit, eh, without even a trial? Tell me that, eh?"

Marek seemed to strike against the wall, and she heard a clang of metal.

"I can't feel real sorry for you," Finn said angrily. "You nearly killed my wife. You only got what you deserve."

"Oh, aye. _Deserve. _I only tried to help you and all, and got me brother killed for the bargain. _You _killed me brother. But what're you doing down here? They finally decide to lock you up as well?"

"No, we've got some...other problems," Finn said dryly.

"Pretty bad ones, if you're down here," Marek chuckled. "But I don't care. You deserve it. Rot in the hells, you bastards."

Anna heard a sliding noise and the voice retreated. She drew a deep breath and gnawed on her gag to distract herself from the pain of the irons. _Marek. _Of all people, Marek. Fate was clearly not content with their torment, she decided to rub salt in their wounds as well.

...

Silence fell again like a tomb. A thin light shone out from Xan's blade, bathing them all in an unearthly blue glow that made them seem as ghosts. Anna's legs cried out from exhaustion; she couldn't stand on tiptoe forever, but if she let go the irons tore into her wrists and threatened to yank her aching arms from their sockets. A panic began to grip her but she tried desperately to remain calm. How thankful she was at least that Ajantis had healed her cough, else she would likely choke to death on her own sickness. She struggled again and wondered how long it was until morning.

Time passed—hours or minutes she didn't know. Time seemed frozen there. Marek remained silent, bored of his taunting. More than likely he was asleep. Distant though she heard the sound of a door opening. Heavy boots strode down the hall and a block of torchlight filled the square hole in the door. At last the magistrate must be there. The lock on the door fell open and a tall man stepped inside.

"Finally, alone at last," his cool voice said. "I've been waiting a long time for a little chat with you."

Anna bit hard onto her gag, regarding the figure of Angelo Dosan as he stood smiling coldly at them.


	89. Whipping Post

_I think this will be the last of the quick updates for awhile; unfortunately other things demand my time. This is a violent chapter, so you know._

_..._

"It would be you," Finn said, glaring at the intruder. "I didn't think you'd let us get off with a trial."

"Questioning my commitment to law and order? Shame on you," Dosan replied. "I should have you locked up—ah, but what am I saying?"

The former commander seemed almost giddy, and Anna wondered if he was drunk. He seemed far from the stiff official she'd met a lifetime ago. Two Flaming Fist men followed him into the room and one shut the door. Dosan set his torch into a wall bracket and walked up to Finn.

"Yes, Lieutenant Finnigan, you've made a serious pest of yourself. I was of two minds about having you meet with a little accident on patrol. To think you and Dessander actually reckoned you had a chance of bringing this all down. Well, he'll get his soon enough."

"I'd say he was right," Finn replied. "Rieltar's dead. And we all know what you've been up to. I'd say it's your number that's about up."

Dosan's face went black and he punched Finn hard in the stomach. He sputtered and wheezed from the blow but still sneered at him.

"You...need...better than that," he gasped.

"And you don't think I've got it?" the captain said. "You don't know a damn thing, you little shite. Not one damn thing."

"I would say we know enough," Jaheira remarked. "And no matter whether or not we leave this place, you will be undone. Others are on your trail."

"Whether or not?" Dosan exclaimed. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be that dim, Harper. Of course you're not leaving here. I just felt like repaying you a bit of the trouble you've caused me before the end. Your warrants are already signed, by none other than Duke Eltan himself. _To be hanged by the neck until dead."_

He put emphasis on those last words and Anna sobbed through her gag. Kivan was right, they should have at least tried to escape. Now what hope was there?

"The Duke is under your command, we know this now," Ajantis said. "You and Anchev conspired to cause a war using my nation as a scapegoat. A war! Whatever selfish goals you have had, how can you justify such bloodshed? Are coins in your pocket worth the lives which will be lost?"

Dosan just sneered at him. "Aye, my lad—they are. That so strange to you? Near to thirty years I've been slaving away, chasing bandits and tax evaders and whores. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing! My pension is barely enough to buy me a house. Let them all go to the hells. You've heard these commoners, they're all salivating for a war. I say give them what they want."

"You are mad," Jaheira said.

"No, love, just truly fed up. But now I've had a better offer. Right, boys, shall we have a bit of fun?"

"What have you got planned, Dosan?" Finn spat at him.

He wrestled against his chains, but the captain just smiled that cold smile.

"Discipline, that's all. A wayward lieutenant could use a bit of that."

Slowly he drew the dagger from his belt. Anna's heart went cold as he held it up to the torch, letting the blade soak in the flames till it was red as the fire. Dosan walked up to Finn, holding the dagger up in his grasp.

"Merion was a bit of a mentor to you, eh boy? A bad influence he was. But maybe we can see if you'll look like him."

That knife raised and Anna screamed against her gag, trying to block out the sight of the dagger slowly carving a red line into Finn's face. He groaned in pain but didn't cry out. Dosan just smiled, a more sickening look than even Rieltar could manage. The two Flaming Fist guards did nothing, watching the scene passively.

"That's a bit better. Not quite the same effect, though. Shall we keep going?"

"You killed him, you bastard," Finn spat from the blood. "You did."

"Worked that out all by yourself, did you?" Dosan chirped. "He wasn't much of a loss, and you sure as hells won't be. Just another jumped-up lieutenant who thinks the world is dangling between his legs. I'm so sick of your lot, I don't even know where to begin."

He held out the dagger again and Finn let out a sick groan. Anna looked around desperately. Her eyes met the guards but they only smirked at her. She looked at the others, who seemed too horrified for words. But then she looked at Xan. His gaze was fixed on Dosan, staring at him with a look fit to bore through rock.

The elf shuddered on his chains and a trickle of blood began to stain his gag, but he never broke his gaze. Slowly Dosan lowered his dagger. He stepped back from Finn and clutched at his temples.

_"Agh,"_ he breathed. "What...what the hells?"

Dosan turned around, wiping a smear of blood from his own lip. He breathed deep, staring at the company, trying to comprehend the source of his pain. His eyes latched onto Xan though and his lip curled into a feral snarl.

"You lad...looks like we've got the same problem. You're an enchanter, aren't you? Nice trick. Good try. But I've been trained against things like that. Reckon I should've told you. Too late now."

Swiftly he raised the dagger and Xan's eyes opened wide. At the last moment though he flipped it in his hand, bringing down the steel hilt onto the side of his head. Anna heard a sickening crack as metal found bone. Blood flowed freely over the elf's face and his head lolled to the side. With an angry noise Dosan raised the blade again, striking him hard once more.

_"Saura'loki!"_ Kivan spat out. _"Amin qualmava lle!"_

"Somehow I don't think you'll be doing any killing, elf," Dosan said to him. "But if you'd like a taste I'd be happy to oblige."

"Sick bastard," Finn groaned, blinking through the blood that dripped into his eyes. "I'll have you."

"You're all just filled with bravado tonight, aren't you? In case you haven't noticed, you're chained. Which leads me to an idea," Dosan smirked. "This blonde girl's your wife, aye? A pretty little thing. I'd pay for that. Lucky me though, I don't have to."

He walked casually up to Anna, and she stared at him as he caressed her cheek.

"What do you think, lovely? Feeling up to a party?"

Finn forgot his injuries and suddenly thrashed on his chains, letting out a bellowing shout.

_"You sick—touch her and you're dead!"_

"No, I don't think so," Dosan laughed. "Now come on. Let's see what you've got under that robe."

All Anna could see was that sneering, twisted face as he lifted up her skirts. She struggled hard but she had no balance and her strained lungs fought for breath. Dosan pushed her up against the wall and somehow she managed a kick. It only struck him on the thigh but it was enough to drive him back. She kicked out again with all her force and her heel struck him hard on the kneecap. Dosan fell back in agony, glaring up at her.

"You...bitch," he seethed. "That's my bad knee!"

He limped forward and struck Anna with all the force she'd given him. The cell went dark for a moment and she fell limp on her chains.

"Dosan—you _filth!"_ Ajantis called out. "You dare to ever call yourself a man of the law? You bring shame to any who have ever served her! You are a coward, and a criminal worse than any your cells hold. The gods will punish you for your crimes!"

The captain whirled on him, staggering forward on his injured knee. His face was twisted in anger and pain.

"Self-righteous bastard," he growled. "You know anything about my life? You can go straight to the hells, too!"

"You will not escape your crimes," Ajantis repeated, staring at the man levelly. "You will not escape justice."

"And you," Dosan hissed. "Aren't going to escape at all."

That dagger flashed up again, but this time the steel faced forward. Anna saw it dropping down but she couldn't look away. Somehow she had to follow that horrible blade on its journey. She watched as Dosan grabbed Ajantis by the hair, throwing back his neck in a violent motion. The knight made no noise at all as the steel found his throat, carving it open.

_"No! Monster!"_ Jaheira screamed, but Anna could barely hear her. All she could see, all she knew was the sight of Ajantis' head bobbing helplessly. His entire body sagged under its weight and he dangled like a puppet on the chains. A pool of red blood fell dripping from the wound on his neck, staining the straw in crimson.

Anna felt a sick pounding in her ears, a rushing like a waterfall that built and built, growing so loud that she couldn't hear. She only imagined Finn's curses and Kivan's vicious threats. The tears on Jaheira's cheeks were not real, nor was the look of horror on Khalid's pale features. Xan hung just as still as Ajantis, a helpless puppet on a string. Anna couldn't see anything anymore. She knew she was going to die, but at that moment it didn't seem to matter.

"Don't cry too hard," Dosan said to them, still clutching at his knee. "You'll all be joining him soon. I could kill you all now, but why not make you suffer? Dawn is only a few hours away. When the sun rises, you'll all be dead. Come on, lads, let's leave them."

...

He limped out of the cell and the mute guards followed him, slamming the door with a clattering of padlocks. He left his torch behind and Anna was forced to look on that impossible scene. She waited for Ajantis to stand, she waited for Xan to move. But both men were still as a grave.

"Oh, Silvanus—_no,"_ Jaheira moaned, her hard face framed in tears. "Dead—they are both dead."

"Xan yet lives, I can feel his spirit," Kivan said hoarsely. "It clings on, however faint. But Ajantis..."

"That fucker," Finn rasped. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him."

The blood on his face was congealing into a sticky, dark mess. Anna suddenly felt a wave of heat building and she thrashed against her chains. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move. Hot tears crept out the corner of her eyes and she moaned into her gag.

"Anna, love—are you alright?" Finn called to her anxiously. She glanced up at him but did nothing more.

_"Damn._ You folks are in more hot water than I reckoned."

Anna looked down to the floor. A rusted iron grate was fixed into the wall there, and Marek's voice came through once more.

"Fuck off," Finn spat.

"Here now, that's no way to talk. I've been thinking, right, and maybe we can help each other out."

"What do you mean, wretch?" Jaheira said, trying to wipe her face on her sleeves.

"I mean, there's a way out of this place. Betcha' didn't know that, now did ya?"

Marek laughed and Finn glared at the hole in the floor.

"Then what're you still doing here?"

"I can get out of me chains now," Marek said. "I've lost enough flesh in here that me manacles are a bit loose. But the way out's through this grate here, and I can't get it open on me own. I tried but it won't shift. It goes right down into the sewers, it does. If you can get free and all, maybe we can get out of here. You owe me that, I reckon."

"How do you know this?" Jaheira demanded.

"Fellow what had the cell before you used to like to talk," Marek said. "Some kiddie-fiddling gnome—weren't no loss when they dragged him to the gallows. But he said he knew the sewers in this town like a map, and there were a hole big enough for a man to get through what led out of this dungeon. Used it for cleaning these cells back in the day when they gave a damn."

"We are not in the mood for tales, _huan,"_ Kivan growled at him.

"No tale, I'm honest here. I want out of this place. I ain't got nothing to lose, and by the sounds of it you sure as hells don't," Marek said.

"It's a fine story," Finn remarked. "But unless you can get us out of these chains none of us is going anywhere."

"Reckon that could be a problem," he said, rattling the grate.

Anna drew a deep, shaking breath. Hot tears had begun to roll down her cheeks. Dead...Ajantis was dead. How could he be? It wasn't real. The knight was still there, but looking at his distorted frame she knew the truth. She tried to say a prayer for him in her mind, but only one word would come. _Help._

Out of the corner of her blurry eyes she noticed Kivan begin to struggle against his chains. The elf gnashed his teeth as he worked his wrists, struggling to free himself against their grip. A trickle of blood began to flow, dripping down into his sleeves like a crimson river. But the manacles were not truly meant to hold elves and with a final cry he wrenched one hand free, then the other. He collapsed down to his knees with a groan, rubbing his gnawed wrists. Kivan forced himself to his feet and went straight to Anna.

"You must free yourself," he said.

He unhooked her wrist irons from the chains in the ceiling, but her arms were so stiff she could barely move them. Anna stumbled back against the wall while Kivan removed her gag.

_"Oh, Chauntea. Chauntea,"_ she whispered hoarsely.

"Come, _mellonamin._ I will aid you."

Without the use of her hands Anna couldn't cast a spell to free herself from her bonds. Kivan held the irons firmly while she tried to wrench free as he had done, but the metal bit into her wrists so painfully she ceased.

"I can't. I can't do it," she sobbed.

"You must. Without you, none of us will be free," Kivan replied. "Xan needs aid or he will die as Ajantis. Be strong."

Anna looked up into his dark eyes. They were serious and grave but burning with that fire she knew well. She drew a deep breath and braced herself against the chains. Her wrists were small, perhaps she could... She twisted this way and that, forcing the iron like a saw deeper into her flesh, wincing at the pain but still fighting on. The blood almost seemed to lubricate the iron and at once her right wrist broke free.

"That's enough," she groaned.

She could cast the spell now, there was no need to struggle out of the other. Anna stumbled towards Xan but Kivan stopped her.

"No. Free Jaheira, I will see to him."

Anna went to the druid and tried to ignore the look of pain on her stoic face, lest it trigger another burst in her.

"Can you manage?" Jaheira asked roughly.

"I think so."

The hook was quite high, but clumsily she helped Jaheira drop her manacles as Kivan had done. When the druid's arms were free Anna spoke her cantrip against the locks. The irons clattered down to the floor and Jaheira hurried to the enchanter. She placed her hands on his bloody head and began speaking a prayer.

Anna went to Khalid next and managed with a bit of effort to free him as well. His grey eyes gave her a sombre look as he rubbed his sore wrists. At last she went to Finn. Anna avoided looking at him—she could not bear to see the gashes on his face, the sticky blood that stained his cheeks. As soon as he was free though he drew his arms around her.

_"Anna...my Anna..."_

She shuddered slightly as he kissed her hair, but she drew her arms around him in turn. Finn drew back and she winced at the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She could only squeeze his hands in reply. Turning she noticed Kivan and Khalid slowly lowering Ajantis' body to the floor. The knight's limbs hung limp and his jacket was thoroughly soaked from the evil gash in his neck. Anna couldn't look at him. She buried her face in Finn's chest and let out a ragged sob.

_"Mani marte...Manke naa lye?" _

Anna opened her eyes again hearing Xan's voice, which sounded ragged as her own. The enchanter was sitting half-propped against Jaheira and stared at the scene with frightfully blank eyes.

"Is he alright?" Finn asked her.

"He is awake...but how well he is I cannot say," Jaheira replied. "That was a cruel blow he took. Xan, can you hear me?"

She spoke clearly but Xan just stared at her.

_"Mani?"_ he repeated, and Jaheira let out a sharp sigh.

"_Uma dela. Esta sinome._ He is dazed," she said to them. "Hopefully it will wear off soon. But..."

...

The druid turned her gaze to Ajantis. Khalid and Kivan still stood over him as if unsure what to do. Anna clung tight to Finn and forced herself to look on him. His face was terribly pale, drained forever of that bright colour that showed when he was embarrassed. His eyes were closed at least—Anna never could bear to look in the empty eyes of the dead, and for a friend it would be a thousand times worse. Khalid knelt down and laid a kerchief over his face, hiding the knight and his terrible wound from view.

"B-be at peace, m-my friend," he stuttered.

"Dosan...may the earth curse you forever. Let her swallow your filth," Jaheira said slowly. She turned back to Xan with a look of pain in her eyes.

"That's bad and all," Marek's voice came through the grate. "But you can't do anything for that bloke. Now are we going to get out of here or what?"

"Maybe we just ought to leave you here for good measure," Finn said, that tone of anger rising in his voice.

"Don't think so," the sailor replied. "You try that and I'll squawk so loud the guards won't help but hear. You owe me this. Besides, that little pervert gnome told me the way to go. It's a proper maze down there, and you're bound to meet worse things than a few passing piles o' shite."

"F-first we must open this g-grate," Khalid said, trying to gather himself. "Locked. Anna, c-can you open it?"

"I only have one more cantrip memorised," she sniffed. "And Xan still isn't free."

She wiped Finn's blood and her tears from her face, then realised with a start it was Ajantis' handkerchief.

"Free Xan then, and he may open the lock," Jaheira replied.

Anna did as commanded. The elf's shackles fell open but he still stared at them all as strangers.

"Xan, can you open the lock?" Jaheira said, pointing at the grate. _"Panta annon. Panta annon."_

He blinked at her and Anna wondered if he could even remember his spells. Xan wiped his face with his sleeve, then stared at the blood. But the elf crawled forward on his knees and sent the rusted iron padlock clattering to the stone floor.

"Nice work, son!" came Marek's voice. "Now me. Come on, get this grate open."

Anna bent over to get a better view of the grate. It seemed barely tall enough to allow a man to pass through, and looked hardly wide enough for even her to pass. A dark yawning hole sunk into the floor between the stone wall. Marek rattled the grate on his side of the wall.

"Come on, lad!" he exclaimed. "You can't leave me in here. I want out. _Open the damn lock!"_

Xan however leaned back, seemingly satisfied with his exertions for the moment. Marek's insistence grew louder and Jaheira scowled.

"If we must, then. Xan?"

She pointed again at the grate and nodded. The elf looked at her, but after a momentary pause cast another spell. Anna heard the sound of metal falling open and a head swiftly appeared through the wall.

"Now, then! That's something like," Marek said.

Nimbly he squeezed his frame through the gap then rose to his feet. Anna looked the man over in shock. His time in prison had been fairly short, but he looked like a man bound for fifty years. His clothes were ragged and soiled and a shaggy beard covered his once-attractive face. He regarded them all with eyes that seemed rather too wide as he blinked against the light.

"Well, let's get moving," he said. "Right down that hole is where we need to go. Who's first then, eh?"

"That's one damn tight gap," Finn said dubiously. "And what about..."

They all knew what he meant. Ajantis lay still by the opposite wall; Dosan was right, he would never leave that place. Jaheira went to him and kneeled by his side, touching his pale hands.

"We can do nothing now," she said, her voice thick again. "Leave him in Helm's care. Forgive us, good friend. Our hearts will not abandon you."

"Yes. _Quel esta, astaler,"_ Kivan said, touching his brow to Ajantis. "We must think of the living now, and mourn our dead after. I will venture into this hole—if it seems secure I will call for you."

"Take care. There is no telling where it leads," Jaheira said. "But if you cannot get up again..."

"If we cannot escape this way, then there is little hope at all," Kivan replied. "We could not fight our way out of this fortress. I shall go."

Without another word the ranger went down onto his knees and wormed his slim body through the gap easily as a snake. They all huddled round anxiously waiting to hear his verdict. After what seemed a very long time his voice echoed from the hole.

"There is a passage here," he called. "The drain goes down some ten feet. It is tight, be wary."

"I sh-shall go next," Khalid offered.

"Be careful, then, my love," Jaheira said to him.

Khalid smiled slightly and kissed her cheek. As the ranger had done he eased his legs into the hole then manoeuvred himself into the gap. After a few minutes they heard him calling up an all-clear.

Jaheira directed the still-dazed Xan through next, and even with his sword the slight elf seemed to have no difficulty. Marek pulled the torch from its bracket and hovered over the hole anxiously.

"Right then, me next. I want out," he repeated in that desperate tone.

"If you wish. Pass me the torch," Jaheira said.

"But it'll be dark down there," Marek said. "I can't stand anymore of this here dark."

"And you cannot crawl down the gap while carrying a torch," Jaheira reminded him. "Our comrades are waiting. Go."

Reluctantly the sailor passed her the torch, and with a grunt began his descent into the hole. Anna could hear him cursing the entire way down, but at last they heard an all-clear.

"You go next," Jaheira said to her.

"No...no, you go," Anna replied quietly.

The druid gave her a grim smile, but she passed the torch over. She slipped down into the gap, leaving Anna and Finn alone.

"Go on, then," Finn said, trying to smile.

"Finn...can you make it through?" she said seriously. "That gap is so tight..."

He was taller and broader than the rest of them by no small margin. Only the knight neared his size, and Ajantis would never move again. Anna paid the motionless knight one last glance, then turned her gaze back to her husband.

"I'll manage. You go on, then I'll toss the torch down."

"No. You go ahead of me," Anna said. "If you can't make it, then I..."

"If I can't make it, then you'll be trapped here too," he interrupted. "And I don't care if I do spend my final moments stuck in a sewer pipe, I'm not going to let that happen. You go."

"Finn—"

She reached for his tattered face. His strange gifts had staunched the bleeding, leaving two ugly purple marks running down the length of his cheek. She pressed her hand against them and let out a quiet sob.

"No," he said, taking her hand. "You go. Alright? Just...go."

Anna kissed him. She could feel his body's warmth, but there was a desperation to it, like when she held him the last time they were in the Flaming Fist base. Life they had, but it was so close to death it seemed pathetic. Finn took the torch from her and nodded his head.

"Go on. You'll be all right," he repeated.

"I love you," she rasped.

Finn smiled, but he said nothing else. Carefully he helped her ease her way into the gap. Anna felt another panic begin to rise as her body began to drop into that empty space. Her dangling manacle clanked against the wall and she regretted not removing it entirely. Finn held her hand tight and spoke calmly.

"Just brace yourself against the stone," he said. "You won't fall. And the others are waiting for you."

...

Anna tried to smile. She tried to think of anything to say, but all that came to her mind was it might be the last time she laid eyes on him. Will all her strength she pressed herself against the smooth stone, trying to keep her body from going into freefall. Inch by inch she slid down till all she could see above her was a shrinking patch of light.

The gap was tight, though. He breathing grew hot in that space and her lungs strained against her chest. How could Finn ever fit through that hole? There was barely room for her. Anna lost her grip and let out a soft cry as she slipped, but somehow she managed to steady herself. Down and down she went, straining and trying hard to breathe. Suddenly everything gave way and she let out a frightened cry as she fell into a black space. Someone grabbed her and she heard a voice in her ear.

"Be calm, _mellonamin_. I have you."

Anna sobbed for breath in the darkness, thankful that Kivan's arms were strong. She let out another soft cry feeling water splashing around her boots and robe.

"Is she alright?" A faint voice called.

"Anna is safe," Kivan called back.

"Good...I'm sending the torch down. Head up!"

Kivan set Anna to the side and she stood alone in the darkness, but only for a moment. A burst of flame suddenly dropped into their cavern and the elf deftly caught the torch in his grasp.

"Come then!" he called back up to Finn.

Anna stood back, clutching at her shoulders. They were in a rounded passage of sorts, with old bricks rolling up the sides in an arc. It was nearly tall enough to allow a man to stand and a shallow stream of water crawled lazily around their ankles. A scent of must and decay came to Anna's nose but she ignored it, holding her breath and waiting for Finn.

He seemed to be taking a long time. Kivan stood below with the torch, staring up into that narrow gap. She watched the elf's eyes but his expression told her nothing as usual. She waited, and still she waited. Anna glanced around at the others but their grim faces were no comfort. Finally she called out to Kivan.

"What's happening? Is he coming?" she asked anxiously.

"He is in the gap," he replied, but said nothing else.

She went to the ranger to see for herself, but she saw nothing but darkness above. Anna jumped feeling a touch on her shoulder.

"Come," Jaheira said. "Stand over here."

Reluctantly Anna stood back. Finn could be trapped in there, trapped in that horrible shaft. Her fear of tight places broke over her again and she began to sweat in the clammy air. She remembered the cave and began to shake.

"He's trapped...I know it," Anna said through chattering teeth.

"He must take his time," Jaheira tried to reassure her.

"Don't know, that's one tight squeeze," Marek whistled. "I barely made it meself."

"Do sh-shut up," Khalid growled, and the sailor scowled and looked away.

Suddenly Kivan shouted something. He passed the torch quickly to Jaheira and called for Khalid. Anna watched as the ranger scrambled up onto the half-elf's back, drawing himself up into the shaft. Dazed she watched the strange shuffling, trying to make sense of the calls and grunts she heard. In one burst the tower collapsed, sending the shapes of three men toppling helplessly into the water.

"Oh...fook me," Finn groaned.

Anna ran to him and tried to help him to his feet. He managed to stand and Khalid and Kivan dragged themselves out of the bath as well.

"Remind me not to do that again anytime soon," Finn said, giving Anna a tight hug.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Was doing all right until me belt got stuck on something," he replied. "Good thing Kivan here grabbed my ankles."

"You are...welcome," the elf replied, squeezing the water from his cloak.

"Well," Jaheira said, drawing a breath. "If we are settled, which way now?"

...

They all turned their eyes to Marek. He looked up and down the pipe, seemingly trying to decide for himself.

"This way, I reckon," he said. "The water's flowing that way."

"But would this warren not lead to the river?" Kivan asked. "It is to the south, behind us."

"Er, I'm pretty sure the gnome said to go right. Water's going that way."

Finn grimaced. "All right then. But I hope you remember the directions and quick—we get lost down here we'll be trapped for a fortnight. Lead on, lad."

Marek gave him a look and reluctantly set off into the darkness. Each kept to their own thoughts and they splashed along in silence. Anna tried not to think of Ajantis. It still didn't seem real. She expected to hear his voice at any moment, calling out for them to wait. Looking at the others she knew they felt the same.

Anna could feel a change in the air and soon they stepped into a wider passage. A wide dark stream flowed quietly down the middle, but thankfully narrow walkways had been built on either side. In the edges of the torchlight she could see other passages draining in to it.

"This must be one of the lost rivers," Jaheira said quietly. "Before men came they flowed on the surface, but as the city grew they decided to entomb them forever under stone. It is sad to consider."

"I'd feel more sorry for them if we weren't trapped down here too," Finn remarked. "Where to now?"

"That way," Marek said, pointing a finger.

They set off single-file down the walkway. Kivan took the lead, with Marek behind, and Jaheira followed with the torch. Looking at it Anna hoped its sputtering flame would outlast their stay in the sewers. Xan still wore that strange expression, looking around the sewer with neither interest nor fear. That he could remember his spells was some comfort, but still she worried about him.

She shied away from the passageways as they walked past for fear of what might be waiting in there. The empty yawning mouths trickled constantly with water, sending it in a little cascade into the main river. Here and there a scurrying caught her eye but the rats were all too eager to flee from the alien flames. All around was damp—it trickled down the walls to make a home for slimy mould and fungi. Odd centipedes crawled unfazed over the brick as the intruders passed, and once Anna thought she caught sight of a newt or lizard flitting to shelter. Even in that darkness nature carried out her plans.

The high passage soon ended though in a wall of brick, while the river carried on through a grated pipe that was sunk below the waterline.

"I trust this gnome was not intending to go through there, unless he had magics that we do not," Jaheira remarked. "Which passage do we take?"

_"Ah," _Marek started. "That one?"

He pointed to the tunnel on their left and Finn let out a groan.

"You don't know, do you. What the hells are you playing at?"

"Alright, alright," he replied, feeling their eyes upon him. "The gnome didn't say ought of where to go. He just mentioned how to get out. I reckoned you'd be more likely to take me with you if you thought I knew the way. But we're bound to come across a way to the streets sometime, aye? How bad can it be?"

Anna let out a quiet groan as well. She'd heard the sewers of the city were like a labyrinth, with new levels built upon old as the city's demand increased. Even the working men rarely penetrated into the deepest tunnels, and with good reason.

"Silvanus, I might have known," Jaheira spat. "You are truly a fool—when you walked the streets above, did you have any idea what kind of beasts might be lurking below? The rats will seem like pleasant companions indeed."

"I've heard the tales, but in my trade I hear a lot of 'em. I reckoned it was all a load of old rubbish," Marek replied. "Besides, I'd still be willing to take my chances down here than face whatever they had waiting for me back up that tunnel."

"He has that point at least," Kivan said grimly.

"Aye. It doesn't matter now. But does anyone want to venture a guess?" Finn asked.

The torch flickered in response. They were all still and nothing could be heard but the faint trickling of water. Somehow Anna remembered the mines of Nashkel, the water dripping through those caves. How far away they seemed.

"Guess we'll just have to chance it, then," Finn sighed. "Hope this water's not as deep as it looks."

He eased himself into the dark stream which thankfully only reached his waist. Finn waded through and with a grunt pulled himself up onto the ledge on the other side. One by one the others followed suit, preparing to face the odds in the dark and damp.


	90. Rabbit Run

"Keep watch for a ladder," Jaheira said mostly to herself. "Men built these sewers and there must be an escape somewhere."

Anna knew the same, but a part of her was now filled with doubt. The first tunnel they chose had proven to be a dead end with nothing but an unscalable grated pipe leading upwards. They decided on a methodological approach to exploring the warrens but it seemed to be of little help—the second tunnel was built precisely the same, as was the third. Damp brick and rusted iron barred their passage each way they looked.

"Gods' sake, is there any way out of here?" Finn muttered.

He glanced rather hopelessly at Kivan, who wrestled with a grate trying to free the bars from their bed in the brickwork. The stone was old and crumbling but the grate held fast. Finally Kivan growled something and crouched back on his haunches, rubbing his rust-stained hands.

"Forget, it, mate. Besides, we don't even know where that goes," Finn said to him.

Kivan gave him a look but didn't reply. Anna leaned back against the stone and sighed. Looking at the trickling water reminded her how thirsty she was, though not thirsty enough to drink from the sewers. She shifted and tried to ignore the squelching feeling in her wet boots.

"Yes, let us try the next," Jaheira sighed.

"There must be a way, there must," Marek muttered as they found the main passage again.

"There are a number of tunnels left to explore," Jaheira said to him. "Did this gnome say nothing at all about the sewers?"

"Nothing that made sense. He was a strange one him, made me skin crawl. All he said was something about a door that wasn't a door. Though he might've been talking about the grate in the cells for all I know."

"A d-door that isn't a d-door," Khalid mused. "I cannot think the b-builders of this place would b-bother with a magical door, but that may m-mean the entrance is hidden."

"Either way, we need to find it fast," Finn said. "Dosan will come looking for us when he's finished licking his wounds. I don't think he'd follow us down that shaft, but I'd rather not find out."

"And there are heavy debts that need repaying," the druid said, her eyes flashing green even in the darkness.

Anna tried not to think of Ajantis, but it was a rather futile act. There was nothing they could do now, they needed to focus on their escape. She knew that but the thought made her feel no better. Her friend was dead...her friend was murdered. That impossible idea kept fluttering around in her head, taunting her like a mad imp.

She glanced up at Finn walking ahead of her. Jaheira had applied her gifts to him but no one really seemed to note how quickly his wounds had healed on their own. Trivialities went unnoticed at a time such as that. The druid had spent most of her effort on Xan but the elf still seemed in a daze, walking along with odd eyes.

Anna thought again of Dosan's knife as it slowly carved a line down Finn's face. That cruelty in his eyes... She saw it again when he pushed her up against the wall. He laughed at her. He didn't care. She wasn't a person to him; none of them were. Even with all she'd seen, all she'd been though, she still couldn't comprehend what could make a man turn so cold. But at that moment Anna didn't care, either. She wanted to see Dosan in pain, to return the favour.

They entered into the next tunnel. It was lower than the main passage, just like the others, and Finn and Marek had to stoop to avoid knocking their heads on the stone. Dutifully Anna began searching though for what she didn't know. _A door that wasn't a door. _Just the sort of foolish riddle of which gnomes were fond. The cracked stone betrayed nothing besides the age of the brickwork and she let out a quiet groan. She stepped back a pace and a startled noise came into her throat as she bumped into someone.

"Excuse me," she said, turning to see Xan.

The elf said nothing though, regarding her with those eyes. He cocked his head almost doglike to one side and Anna wondered if he could understand her at all. Either way the effect was somewhat unsettling, and she wandered over to Finn.

...

Predictably their search once again proved fruitless and they found the main chamber.

"P-perhaps this would go quicker if w-we split up," Khalid offered. "We couldn't l-lose each other easily here."

"That seems wise, but we should not separate too much. Finn, take Anna and Marek with you," Jaheira said, passing him the torch. "We others shall search together. I trust Marek will not cause you much trouble."

She gave the man a pointed look and his lip curled up.

"Wouldn't dream of it, lady. Besides that, where the hells would I go? Not the best place for a stroll down here."

"Just the same," Finn said. "We'll take the tunnel up ahead. You lot can search the next one."

They left those with elvish sight to their explorations and wandered into the tunnel. It was featureless in its features, the same as all the others. Marek slammed his fist against an exposed bit of clay pipe and it cracked under the blow.

"Damn it all to the hells!" he exclaimed, sending the words echoing through the passage.

_"Oi_, keep it down," Finn remarked.

"I can't take this anymore," Marek said, a keen tone in his voice. "Where the hells is the way out? I'm starting think that little bastard was just having me on. There's no way out of here, not 'less your wizards can magic us all into spiders."

He grasped at his beard and his eyes looked hollow and wild. Anna wondered what he might have endured in that prison but her sympathy wasn't ripe at the moment.

"Please don't mention spiders," she said, clutching her shoulders with a shudder.

"It's still better than being in that cell, I reckon. Someone built this place and there's got to be a way out. Now come on, help me see if we can shift this grate," Finn said.

He passed the torch to Anna, and Marek grudgingly went to assist. Anna watched them begin to wrestle with the iron. She could understand the sailor's increasing desperation—did they escape from one trap only to find themselves in another? The torch sputtered again and she glanced up at it warily. She resolved if they ever found the surface never to be without a spell of infravision again.

The two men worked the grate with a clattering of grunts and curses, but Anna had little hope it would budge. She leaned up against the brick wall and shut her eyes. Her head ached and her body felt worse. Her arms were still strained from dangling by those awful manacles, and her mouth was dry as a desert from the gag. When she opened her eyes she was startled again by the sight of a robed figure, standing not a foot away and watching her intently.

"Xan?" she said, but her words were suddenly cut off as the elf took her jaw in his hand.

_"Lle naa luhtar," _he said.

"What?" Anna stammered in reply.

Xan didn't respond, instead turning her face from one side to the other as those strange eyes regarded her keenly. Anna felt too surprised to move or speak. He kept looking at her and spoke again.

_"Lle naa luhtar."_

She knew the words, but they made little sense. _You are charmed. _Anna's breath caught in her throat and she suddenly began to feel afraid.

_"What the hells?_ What are you doing, man?"

Finn's voice broke though the stale air of the tunnel and he strode up to them with angry eyes. Xan's hand dropped and he shoved the elf hard away from her, almost driving him off his feet. He stumbled backwards but said nothing, staring at Finn with another strange look.

"What the hells were you doing?" Finn exclaimed again. "Answer me!"

"It's...alright," Anna said hurriedly. "He wasn't doing anything."

She grasped at Finn's arm but he seemed unconvinced.

"Then why'd he have you pressed up against the wall like that?" he demanded. "Sure didn't look like nothing."

Man and elf stood regarding each other; Finn's eyes snapped like fire but Xan's were cool as ice. Anna couldn't really blame Finn for getting the wrong impression, but what the elf truly meant she had no idea.

"It's all right," she said again. "He wasn't doing anything. It's Xan—what did you think he was going to do? It's just...his head must be a bit off. He didn't do anything. Just let it go."

She pleaded with Finn and he drew a ragged breath. Xan just slipped his arms into his sleeves, regarding the pair of them almost idly.

"Alright," Finn said slowly. "Sorry if I'm a bit uptight about anyone laying their hands on you just now. But it best not happen again."

"It won't. And we have enough to worry about without this," Anna said to him.

"I hate to interrupt a good brawl, but I think I might've found something," Marek said, hurrying up to them. "Come here and have a look."

Anna and Finn followed him to the end of the tunnel, leaving Xan standing behind them. She didn't look at him as they went. What did he mean? The elf's words worried her, but she tried to brush them off as a result of his injuries.

"Lookee here," Marek said. "This brickwork be loose."

He gave one of the old bricks a push and it slid back against its companions with the grating sound of stone. Marek gave it another push and the brick fell out entirely, leaving a black hole in its place.

"Bloody hells, there's no masonry here," Finn said, running an excited hand over the brick. "They're all just stacked in. It's a door! They must have sealed it up on the fly, not bothering to do a proper job."

The two men began pushing out the bricks from the top down, sending them into the other side of the tunnel wall with dull thuds. Anna felt incredible relief but also a tinge of fear as the cool air wafted in.

"Wait, we should find the others. We don't know what's on the other side of that wall," she said.

"Freedom, that's what it is!" Marek cried, still digging at the bricks.

"No, she's right," Finn replied. "Let's go find them first."

...

He turned from the wall, but the thought was a wasted one as voices drew closer in the darkness.

"What are you doing? Have you found something?" Jaheira asked quickly.

"We think this might be it—there's a passage of some sort back here," Finn said.

"Thank Silvanus. We had found nothing, and then we noticed that Xan had slipped away. I am thankful he was just here with you."

She gave Xan a worried glance but the elf just looked at her.

"Yeah," Finn said dryly. "Well, if we're all here, let's get this thing open."

The two men made short work of the door, leaving a large pile of bricks for them to scramble over. Kivan stepped through hesitantly then gestured for them to follow.

"I see nothing but a long passage ahead," the ranger said.

"We should still keep our eyes open," Jaheira replied. "Come, and step carefully."

Anna stepped over the bricks and into the new passage. The floor in this one was thankfully dry and perhaps her clothes might stand a chance of following suit. She clenched against her dangling manacle to keep it from clanging as they made their way through the tunnel. Jaheira had healed her wounds but Xan hadn't liberated her wrist, and she didn't now feel inclined to ask him.

Soon the passage ended in a cross-tunnel, with long branches stretching out on either side.

"Blast it all. Now which way?" Jaheira said.

"We shall j-just have to choose," Khalid replied.

He pulled a small piece of broken brick from his pocket and etched a mark on the tunnel wall.

"Well thought, my husband. We could easily begin to go in circles in this wretched place. Shall we try the right first?"

There was little else for them to do. Long clay pipes stretched down either side of the tunnel, but judging by the heavy cracks in them their days of carrying water were long past. These parts of the sewers must be disused, Anna thought. Unlike before though she saw no signs of life—no flitters of movement in the corner of her vision, no eyes blinking at them from the darkness. Even the ever-present mould seemed missing from the walls. Kivan seemed to find the absence strange as well and he slackened their pace.

"I do not care for this tunnel. The air has a strange scent here."

Anna had tried to avoid drawing deep breaths but now she sniffed the air. It was heavy and stale like the rest of the sewer, but it had an odd note to it. Sharp and almost spicy. She couldn't place the smell, but strangely she thought of Maya. What in her tidy kitchen in Beregost could possibly remind her of that foul place?

"Yes, but we must press on. Our means of escape may be down this passage," Jaheira replied.

Kivan looked grim but kept to the lead as usual. Anna had tried to ignore the fact that except for Xan they had no weapons, but it came back to her now. How could they expect to fight anything? All her offensive spells were lost during the battle with Rieltar, and her spellbook was likely now in the hands of the Flaming Fist.

Marek's shout broke into her thoughts. She turned, startled to see him flailing like a madman. He hopped from one bare foot to another in a demented jig before collapsing entirely to the ground.

_"It burns, it burns!" _he screamed.

Anna stared, trying to work out what was hurting him. There was nothing she could see but a bit of moisture trickling down from the walls. But the effect it had was horribly obvious—Marek's flesh had begun to blister and bleed as if he'd stepped onto hot coals.

"Silvanus—help him! Get him back!" Jaheira shouted.

She grabbed the flailing man by one arm and Finn grabbed another. Together they pulled him back from the puddle and Jaheira applied her gifts.

"Take care—do not touch your face," she commanded the man. "We must leave here now—"

Her words were interrupted by a scream from Anna's own mouth. She felt something touch her sleeve, like a hand running down her arm. No hand was there though, just a long, mucous-like tendril stretching down from the ceiling. It left a dark burn mark on her robe as it slid swiftly down her arm to her wrist.

She tried to pull away but the pain when the blob touched her flesh was instant. A white-hot brand sunk into her skin and she screamed out again. The tendril was strong though and it refused to let go.

_"Help—"_ she moaned, struggling against its sickening grasp. In her panic she dropped the torch, sending it clattering away to the stone. She felt the fire digging deeper into her wrist and she barely noticed a clank as her rotted manacle fell to the floor. That thing was dissolving her flesh and she could do nothing to stop it.

A sudden burst of blue fire split the air in front of her and Anna fell back. Xan's blade sliced through the tendril with ease, causing the blob around her wrist to dissolve into water. She gasped again at the wound—her enchanted robe and the thick iron stopped much of the assault, but the blob had melted the skin from her wrist like acid, leaving the muscle burnt and exposed. Anna made a weak, pained cry but Finn took her in his arms and wrapped his hands around her bloody wrist. It burned like fire but mercifully the pain began to cool.

"Has it struck you?" Jaheira said quickly.

"No..." Anna replied, looking at her healed wrist.

"Enough, we must flee!" Kivan shouted. "Look there!"

The injured blob was congealing itself together, glistening like a living puddle on the floor. It seemed to fill the entire passage. Anna stared in horror as something resembling tall heads rose up from its body, swaying back and forth like snakes poised to strike. The blob began to change colour, turning from nearly invisible to a strange rusty-yellow.

They had no time to flee before the creature struck. The heads lashed out blindly, striking Anna's robe and Finn's trousers. He shouted and pulled them back before it could latch on. Another struck at Xan but his blade parried the blow, slicing the head free from its body. The blob rippled in pain and turned a darker yellow.

_"Silvanus!" _Jaheira cried, but Anna sensed more than a desperate plea in the name. The air rippled around the druid's hands and became solid as wood. She grasped her new-found staff tight and charged at the creature, bludgeoning its nearest head into water.

"We must destroy it! Xan, help me!"

Fortunately the elf seemed to understand her meaning. They lashed mercilessly at the blob while doing their best to avoid its flailing heads. Xan's robe seemed to hold fast against their strikes but burned holes began to appear in Jaheira's clothes.

There was nothing for the others to do, they could only hold back and watch. That strange scent grew keener and Anna recognised it at last—mustard. Maya always seasoned a joint of beef with mustard. The comparison seemed laughable though as she helplessly watched the fight.

More and more of the jelly disintegrated into water as the warriors laboured on. Jaheira and Xan were weary, their faces showed their pain. But one final blow of Jaheira's staff turned it to liquid once and for all.

...

Xan fell hard against the stone wall and slowly sheathed his sword. The dried blood in his hair was now damp with sweat but he seemed unharmed. Jaheira though could barely stay on her feet.

"Oh, Silvanus..." she moaned, and dropped down to her knees.

"Jaheira!" Khalid cried. He rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to hold her upright.

"I am...fine," she breathed.

"You are not, you are b-bleeding! Can you h-heal yourself?"

"I don't..."

Her words trailed off and her head lolled to one side. A strange pallid hue covered her face and her lips were trembling. Jaheira had spent so much energy already that Anna knew she would have little left, not for those injuries. Her tunic and trousers were rent where the jelly had struck, leaving horrid acid-wounds like the ones on Anna's wrist. Blood and ooze leached from the raw red patches and stained Khalid's shaking hands. Jaheira groaned and tried in vain to struggle to her feet.

"Finn...can you help her?" Anna said.

However hard they'd tried to keep his gifts a secret there seemed no purpose to it now. Finn's mouth became a narrow line, but he nodded slowly. He knelt down before Jaheira and spoke to Khalid.

"Here, let me see her."

"Why, what c-can you..."

"Just...here."

Finn laid his hands on Jaheira's cheeks and shut his eyes. She let out a moan of pain and Khalid exclaimed something Anna didn't hear. But his gifts did not fail and the druid's wounds closed, covering themselves with a raw new patch of skin.

"Finn...how did you?" Jaheira gasped.

"Are you all right?" he said in reply.

"Yes," she said wonderingly. She touched a newly-healed spot and winced.

"We should get out of here," Finn said, clearing his throat. "I've read those things can reform themselves."

He rose to his feet and Khalid helped Jaheira rise. Neither said anything to Finn. Jaheira looked at her wounds and looked again at him, searching her brain for an answer.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Right. Shall we keep on with this passage or try the other?" Finn said, scooping the fluttering torch off the floor.

"There may be more of those creatures down this way," Jaheira replied. "Let us try the other first."

She tugged at her stained and ripped clothing while trying to hide her glances at Finn. What could she be thinking? Anna didn't know, and somehow she didn't want to ask.

They struggled on back the way they came. Marek's feet were still raw from where the jelly had eaten at them and he limped along like an old man. But they were alive at least—Anna shuddered remembering the pale glimmer of rat bones the disintegrated jelly had left in its wake.

But their luck seemed to be turning at last, for they soon came across a ladder of rusty iron rungs sunk into the stone walls. So rusted they were that Anna wondered if they would hold them. Finn held Kivan on his shoulders while the elf did battle with the solid metal grate above. It had rusted closed but wasn't locked and he made short work of it. Lightly Kivan eased himself into the dark passage then called for them to follow.

Finn scrambled up but one of the rungs turned to dust under his weight. He swore and carried on. The others followed him cautiously and soon they were huddled together once more.

"Hate to keep saying this, but now where to?" Finn asked.

"We cannot be too far below street level now," Jaheira replied. "If we are lucky we might catch a glimpse of daylight."

_Lucky. _It seemed like such a strange word. Did fortune favour those she liked to torment? Anna was growing tired of playing cat and mouse games with fate.

"Perhaps w-we should rest a moment," Khalid said, with his eyes on his wife.

"Yes...I should see if Xan is injured," Jaheira replied, the weariness heavy in her voice.

...

Khalid smiled slightly and the group settled themselves against the walls. Finn propped the torch up against the brick where it sputtered bravely on. But its flame was more blue than red and Anna knew it needed fresh fuel. Finn glanced at her in surprise as she lifted up her robe and heavy wool underskirt, revealing her linen shift. She grasped hard at the seam and the battered fabric gave way to her touch, allowing her to rip a sizable piece from the bottom. Anna handed the fabric to Finn.

"Here, you might try this," she said.

He followed her meaning and set the torch between his knees. Carefully he would the linen around the flame, sending it burning red once more.

"Nice, love," he said approvingly.

"Aye. For the love of the gods, don't let that go out," Marek said, rubbing his tender feet.

"You all right there, lad?" Finn asked.

"What's it matter to you?" the sailor barked back. "It feels like sharks have been nibbling at me toes, that's all."

Finn said nothing more. Anna wondered what would become of Marek once they found the surface, though it was probably nothing worse than what would become of them all.

She looked at Xan sitting cross-legged some feet away. His eyes were half-open and his head sagged as if its weight were too much for his neck. Kivan crouched next to him, speaking quiet words in Elvish that she couldn't hear. After a moment the ranger left his side and sat near the others with a sigh.

"Is he...well, Kivan?" Jaheira asked hesitantly.

She had applied what little gifts she had left but Xan showed no obvious improvement. He regarded them all with indifference and responded to little but Elvish.

"He needs to rest," the elf replied. "He should reverie if he is able. His mind is...what is the word? _Sakkatar. _Torn. He is two halves within himself now."

"What's that mean?" Finn said.

"I have seen it before amongst my people when they struggle with bad wounds. His mind is working to rebuild itself, and keeps a part of him separate from what is injured. In a way, Lord Xan is almost a different person."

"So we've got a mad elf on our hands. Brilliant," Marek remarked.

"If not for that mad elf, you would still be in your cell," Jaheira reminded him frostily. "And we all likely would be digesting within that jelly even now. Do not speak ill of him."

"How long is he going to be that way?" Finn said.

"Only the Seldarine would know," Kivan replied, shaking his head.

Anna bit her lip, mulling over Xan's words. _You are charmed. _She'd tried to convince herself it was only a part of his illness but now she wasn't so sure. She didn't feel charmed—though if she was, she'd hardly know about it. Finn's arm came to rest on her shoulders and she moved closer to him.

"Don't know, I'd pay good money to be off with the fairies just now," he said.

Anna couldn't disagree. She noticed Jaheira kept looking at him furtively. None had mentioned Finn's strange gifts but she knew that wouldn't last. Jaheira's mouth opened but she closed it again. Perhaps she was happy enough leaving reality alone herself for awhile.

They rested in silence for a time before Jaheira reluctantly dragged them to their feet. That part of the sewer seemed more recent than the one they had left, and the smell of effluent had increased accordingly. The slow trickle of running water bounced off the walls and tricked Anna's ears as to its location. None of them asked which way they should go—it seemed a wasted question. Fickle fate would be their only aid down there.

At least the sewer creatures were scurrying past again; Anna never thought she'd feel comforted by the sight of a rat. And she would never sleep well in the city knowing now what horror was lurking down the drainpipes. So many things living in the darker places, things that foolhardy men felt themselves secure from.

...

But apart from more maze-like tunnels they encountered no trouble. No daylight was to be seen, either, in spite of Jaheira's hope. At last they seized upon a ladder and followed it up. Anna let out a quiet noise of joy seeing grey light filtering through some bars over their heads.

"Oh, thank Silvanus," Jaheira said. "We cannot be far now."

"Far to where is the question, though," Finn replied. "We can't just pop up like rabbits anywhere we please. That's a street up there by the sound of it, and we'd be spotted for sure."

"Maybe we could pop round to Rosie's. That'd give her a surprise, all right," Marek snickered.

Finn grimaced. "Aye, and maybe then she'd call off her dogs. It's been hell for us since you were locked away."

"And I'm surprised? What did you lot expect? Bursting into someone's house and killing some innocent bloke in cold blood—you're lucky you didn't have riots on your hands. Though I reckon the people of this town are too cowed by now to make much of a stand," he proclaimed.

_"Innocent?" _Finn shot back. "You'd have a job proving that. It's Lothander's own damn fault he was killed. If he'd come along quietly there'd have been no problems. And what do you mean, the folks here aren't afraid of the Flaming Fist."

Marek's scowl went deeper. "Oh, aye—rich folks ain't. It's all the poor dross what has to put up with their heavy hand. You know there was some needle-nosed magistrate wanted to take Deela's kids and put 'em in a workhouse when her man walked out? Said she couldn't hope to feed them on her own. Never mind chasing up her husband for a copper, that'd be too hard a job. It's all bollocks. But I reckon you know now the same as the rest of us, just how crooked your beloved Fist really is."

Finn's face went black but Jaheira interrupted them.

"Enough of this. Someone may hear you arguing, and I wish to hear none of it myself. Whatever we do, we should wait for nightfall before making our escape. It is simply too dangerous to be wandering the city in the light."

"True, b-but Dosan's men may well be searching the sewers even now," Khalid remarked. "I fear we are t-trapped either way."

"The sewers are large, my husband. We can only hope for the best."

They sat down again in the damp tunnel. The little torch gave up its ghost some time before but Finn kept hold of it, possibly looking at it as a kind of weapon. He clenched and whirled it in his hands, staring at the wood with a bleak expression.

"Oh, I'm hungry," Anna said to herself.

Hungry, but her thirst was worse. They'd come across nothing resembling fresh water in that place and it seemed years since she'd had a drink. But there was no point in mentioning it—they were all hungry and thirsty, and there was nothing they could do.

"Perhaps..." Jaheira said quietly.

She sat with her hands cupped out in front of her as though she expected someone to pour water in them. She stayed perfectly still with her eyes closed and her mouth a thin line as she chanted softly. After a moment a soft glowing light filled her palms, like fairy orbs glistening in the dim light. The light faded and she was left with a handful of berries in her grasp.

"Good on Silvanus!" Finn exclaimed. "I'd forgot you could do that trick."

"It is hardly a _trick, _Finn," Jaheira said, sharing out the berries. "But since you mentioned it, you might reveal what god you invoked for your own gifts. You are a follower of Oghma, I thought, but I did not think you such a favoured soul of his. How long have you had these blessings?"

"Cheers," he muttered. "But I reckon he must've changed his mind, eh? I've had them awhile. I didn't think it was much to mention."

The others looked at him and Finn turned away awkwardly—even he must have felt the limpness of his reply.

"Of all the battles I have taxed myself for, and you did not wish to mention you had the blessings of a god as well?" Jaheira continued. "That is...foolhardy, and quite selfish, I must say."

"I'm sorry. I'd never have let anyone die over it or anything. Anna knows—I've healed her before."

He sounded almost like a guilty child apologising for something he knew was wrong but did anyway. Jaheira pursed her lips.

"I did think her rather less prone to injuries than she should have been. But I still say it was selfish. Having another with a priest's skills would have been a great benefit to us."

"I'm sorry," Finn repeated to the stone floor. "But we all know now. No point in going on about it."

Jaheira apparently felt the same for she seemed willing to drop the subject. In spite of the lift her berries provided they were all too tired for argument. Anna looked at Finn, still staring at the stone and fiddling with the dead torch. Wherever his gifts came from, she didn't truly believe they were the blessing of Oghma. Finn rarely paid any more than passing tribute to his god, and he hardly seemed studious enough to earn himself great favour of the Binder.

Jaheira, Ajantis and the long-departed Branwen spent entire evenings communing with their gods, but Finn spent his cleaning his weapons or playing cards. When he healed her no prayers left his lips. It was different somehow with his healing—she could feel it. No blessings from beyond, but something from within. She'd ceased to find it frightening, but that unsettled feeling she had when he applied his gifts still remained. Something about them wasn't right.

...

They stayed in that grim tunnel until the light overhead turned a deeper grey. Anxiety drove them from their hiding-place before the complete fall of darkness—a risk, but one they felt willing to take. They found a place where the grate above seemed quiet, an alley perhaps. Kivan climbed onto Finn's shoulders and gingerly moved the scraping grate aside. He peeked out like a rabbit and gave the all-clear.

Together they worked to free themselves from the sewers. Anna leaped up and took hold of Finn's hands, and with a grunt he pulled her into the fresh air. When they were all free they stood quietly in the darkening alley, looking around as though an army of orcs waited behind the corner.

"Now what?" Marek hissed.

"Now you're on your own," Finn replied. "You can go where you please. We've got nothing to do with each other anymore."

Anna looked at him in surprise, and the ranger spoke quickly.

"You cannot think to let him out of our sight," Kivan said. "He may decide to improve his lot with the guards by telling of our whereabouts."

"You think I'm about to squeal to the fist?" Marek replied. "They'd have me in the noose no matter what I told 'em. Bastards they are, every last one. Nope—I'll find me mates, and be on a ship out of this slop bucket town before ye can blink."

"Are you certain of this, Finn?" Jaheira said. "Kivan may have a point. Perhaps he has no intention of selling us to the Fist, but if he were to find himself in irons again that could easily change."

"I know. But I say we're done," Finn said slowly.

He gave the sailor a deep look and Marek's lip curled up.

"Suits me well enough. Hope you lot manage to keep your necks on straight, but I'm gone. Ta ra!"

And without another word, he was. The sailor disappeared into the growing shadows and Finn watched him go.

"Are you sure?" Anna asked him quietly.

"I'm not in the Fist anymore," he answered. "Doesn't matter much to me now."

Anna looked at him in surprise again, but Jaheira spoke.

"Never mind. What is done is done. We can only hope the scoundrel will keep his word. Now, we must look to finding Anchev."

"Without even our w-weapons? How can we expect to c-confront him now?" Khalid remarked.

"I don't even know where the hells we are," Finn said, shaking off his reverie. "Any guesses?"

"Not in the b-best part of town, by the h-houses," Khalid said.

Anna glanced up in the narrow alley. The buildings around were brick and timber, rather ramshackle affairs. And the street they faced seemed featureless with little more than the front of a greengrocer's visible.

"Let us keep to the back alleys then, till we can find our bearings," Jaheira replied. "But we must...do something. We must keep moving."

Anna didn't ask where the druid was leading them. She knew they needed to confront Sarevok, but Khalid was right. They would stand no chance against him, and if the Flaming Fist got wind of them... Impossible as it seemed she felt even more hopeless then than she had in the sewers.

...

The alleys came to an end and Jaheira brought them to a halt. Strangely a large number of people seemed to be milling in the street. Some carried torches and lanterns and all seemed excited by something. A feeling of cold dread washed over Anna's spine.

Kivan crept forward, hiding himself as best he could in the shadows. He examined the scene and fell back.

"They are all gathering around some man," he reported. "He stands above the crowd and they wait for him to speak."

Over the noise of the mob Anna began to hear the sound of a bell clanging. It was a summons. An official herald, one used only by the Dukes. It was no ordinary speech that man was about to give.

"They are after us, I know it," she breathed hopelessly.

"This is bad news," Finn said, ducking back further into the alley. "We need to get out of here."

"Wait, let us listen—" Jaheira said.

Anna's heart caught in her throat as the man began his preamble. Even from their hidden spot she could still hear his voice booming clearly over the people's heads. She expected the worst, and his words made her mouth fall open.

_"Hear ye, hear ye! Terrible corruption in the Ducal Palace has been exposed! The former commander of the Flaming Fist, one Angelo Dosan, has been found guilty of manipulating High Duke Eltan by magical means! Dosan resisted arrest and was slain by his own men this very day. The great scandal was brought to light by the good person of Sarevok Anchev, none other than the son of the late leader of the Iron Throne! Duke Eltan has been restored, and the Grand Dukes invite all citizens to rejoice! Long live the Dukes! Long live Baldur's Gate!"_

_"What_ the f—" Finn began, but the word died on his tongue.

"He did it? He actually did it?" Anna squeaked.

It didn't seem real. The crowd cheered and the herald repeated the sensational tale for the benefit of the latecomers.

"That is..." Jaheira began, but she just shook her head.

They all stared at each other, dumbfounded, wondering if some collective illusion was fooling their ears. But there could be no mistaking the news—Dosan was dead, Duke Eltan was restored, and Sarevok Anchev had kept his promise to them.

Suddenly a strange feeling washed over Anna, one so unfamiliar of late that she'd nearly forgotten it. Happy laughter escaped her mouth, tickling the alley with its bubbling sound. If Sarevok had proven those things then their innocence would be assured. They were safe. They were free. They must be. Anna looked laughing at Finn and his eyes echoed her feeling. He pulled her into a tight embrace and gave her a delighted, lingering kiss.


	91. Breathing Lessons

"If you are finished?" Jaheira coughed.

"Just about," Finn said, placing a kiss on Anna's nose.

She smiled up at him and squeezed his scarred face in her hands. The news had left her feeling almost giddy and she didn't feel embarrassed by their affection in the least.

"I c-can hardly believe," Khalid began.

"Nor can I," Kivan replied bluntly.

"It does seem almost improbable. But by appearances, it would seem Anchev kept his word," Jaheira mused.

"At least in part," Finn replied. "We have no idea if we're still wanted or not. And I don't really feel like stopping into base to find out."

"We need somewhere to go," Anna said. "Xan isn't well, and I'm sure we could all use a rest."

She certainly could. Her body was exhausted and her clothes were covered in rips and stains, some more foul than others. Jaheira leaned back and watched the crowd slowly dispersing.

"And Dermin made it clear we were no longer welcome in our previous haunts. Would it be worth seeking this contact of Revianne's?"

"I say we go straight to the source. Anchev's the one we need to talk to. Hiding out for another day or so won't make any difference," Finn remarked.

"But the Iron Throne must be a hive of activity now. It would be difficult to penetrate the place and get a message to him," she said.

"You're right. But I reckon I might know somebody else we could try."

"Why, are you—" the druid began.

"I know where his lady lives, remember? Nice place, but not so well guarded as the Throne. We could manage to talk with Cythandria pretty easy," he said.

"It could be a risk, but perhaps you are correct," Jaheira sighed. "And we must do something besides lingering in this alley. If you know the way, then lead on."

...

By then it was nearly dark. They split into several smaller groups to avoid drawing too much attention to themselves. Anna kept her head down whenever they passed a Flaming Fist patrol and the mercenaries likewise passed them by. Were they not being hunted, or were the mercenaries just lax? They would soon find out.

Before long they arrived at Cythandria's father's estate. Lord Oakenhome's manor didn't live up to the family name—the grand house was constructed out of the same heavy stone as the city walls and the numerous carvings and reliefs that decorated the place couldn't hide its severity. A sizable wall of the same stone surrounded the property and the tall gate was shut.

"How do we get inside?" Jaheira asked when they were all reunited.

"She lives a bit of an...independent life, I wager," Finn replied. "Sarevok said to ring at the back and tell the maid we're here to deliver her new shoes. That'll get her attention."

"If she is home," Khalid remarked.

They hurried round to the back of the great house. Off an alley they found a small door meant for servants and tradesmen. A bell rope hung down and Finn pulled it boldly.

"I do hope you know what you're doing," Jaheira said.

"So do I," he replied.

After a minute a small flap in the door opened and a servant's eyes gazed out at them suspiciously.

"Who are you? What business do you have here?" he demanded.

"We're here to deliver Lady Cythandria's new shoes," Finn replied. "She's been waiting on them."

_"Ah," _the servant coughed. "The lady is dining with her father right now. He's got guests. Should I just tell her you dropped by?"

"We'd like to talk with her now, if you can manage," Finn said. "The lady _really _wants these shoes."

"Yes, well...it's a bit of a trick," the servant hesitated. "But maybe for a bit of a consideration?"

Finn groaned. "We've not got any coin, mate. But I reckon we could get you some tomorrow."

"Don't like being paid tomorrow," the man quipped. "I'll tell the lady you stopped in."

The flap began to close but Anna quickly held out a hand.

"Wait—here," she said. "Take this. We really do need to speak with her."

Against even battles and arrest her mother's precious amulet still hung around her neck. She undid the metal clasp and passed it to the man. He regarded it for a moment, then she heard the clicking of a padlock.

"That'll do just nicely. Got me a lady friend who'll appreciate that, I reckon! You lot can wait in the courtyard. I'll see that one of the maids slips the lady a note between courses."

He ushered them inside and they followed his lantern up to the house. They remained as bidden on the step while the man retreated inside.

"You gave him your necklace?" Finn exclaimed. "Hells, you didn't need to do that."

"We can get it back, I hope," Anna said, clutching at her strangely bare neck.

"Now we must wait and see if this man calls the guards," Kivan remarked.

They stood nervously in the dim light for what seemed an age. At last the door opened and a shy maid beckoned them inside. She departed and Cythandria stepped into the hall. She was elegantly dressed as always, looking beautiful as a painting in her rich honey-coloured gown. Pearl beads shone against her golden locks and decorated her dress in a diamond pattern, giving it a quilted effect.

"I am rather surprised to see you here," she said to Finn. "Although perhaps I should not be. Sarevok did say you were rather bold. But dear me—you smell as if you have been in the sewers!"

The lady pressed her handkerchief to her nose with a dramatic gesture. Finn scowled slightly but he spoke.

"That's one way of putting it. But we need to know straight away if the Fist is looking for us. We've heard the news but we don't know if we're still wanted."

"I should think not," Cythandria replied. "The truth of Rieltar and Dosan is now widely known. Of course Sarevok is the one you should be speaking with...I shall have him leave the table as soon as it is socially possible. Father and Mother are entertaining some important guests tonight, and it was all I could do to slip away."

"He is here?" Jaheira said, rather surprised.

"Of course," she smiled. "We are betrothed, after all. Father is as much enamoured of him as I, and seeks his opinion on all business affairs."

She tossed her head proudly and Anna's eyebrow raised. That the pair were due to be married was not a great surprise but it was the first she'd heard of the news. And Sarevok always seemed almost indifferent towards the woman, at least in public.

"Great. Well, we'll wait here then," Finn said.

"Oh, no, you couldn't possibly. If Father or Mother were to see you they'd be scandalised. No, you can wait in the cottage. It sees little use at this time of year and I doubt the party would retreat there. _Nyra! _Where has that girl gone?"

The young maid reappeared at her mistress' call and bobbed politely.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Get the key for the summer house and show these people there. And do not speak of it to anyone, do you understand?" Cythandria said.

"Yes, my lady," the girl bobbed again.

"Very good. I must return to the table. I believe Sarevok will be with you soon. Good evening," she said crisply.

...

The lady gathered up her long skirts and swept out of the passage. The girl disappeared for a moment then returned with a taper. She led them back out into the night, down a path and up to a small darkened building that Anna did not notice before. It was strangely round in design and large windowed panels glittered opulently in the light.

The maid set the key in the door and beckoned for them to follow. Inside was set up like a comfortable sitting room, except with the long couches and chairs draped ghostly white in sheeting. The maid lit a few candles from hers and left them alone once more.

"Don't suppose she could leave us with a fire," Finn said, rubbing his arms. "What sort of place is this, anyway?"

"It's a summer house," Anna replied. "They're used for garden parties in the better weather."

She tried to imagine the glass windows open wide to the soft summer air, rather than shut behind yards of heavy curtains. The vision did little to warm her against the frosty room, however. She sat on one of the shrouded sofas and clutched at her shoulders.

"Well, let's hope Anchev can duck out soon. I'm about ready to start climbing the walls here."

Finn sat down next to Anna and wrapped his arms around her. She gladly leaned into him, drawing in his warmth.

"You are not alone," Jaheira said, glancing at Xan.

The elf had wandered over to a display shelf. He gathered up a glass vase and turned it over rather casually before finally setting it back down. The druid looked away with a sigh.

Although they'd spent many anxious waits, that time the minutes truly did turn into hours. Anna watched as the tapers grew lower and lower in the candlesticks, slowly dripping down their pale wax like tears. Except for a few whispered comments they were all silent. There was little more left to say. Anna stayed resting against Finn and he spoke to her softly.

"Why don't you lie down? Must be late now."

"I'm not tired," she replied.

He squeezed her shoulders in reply. Anna drew a deep sigh but her heart jumped as the door finally clicked open. Sarevok Anchev stepped into the room, looking elegant as Cythandria in his silk suit.

"I am sorry for keeping you waiting," his deep voice said. "Lord Oakenhome was quite keen on his port and inflated tales this evening."

"Is it done, then?" Finn asked without preamble.

He looked him directly in the eye and Sarevok smiled slightly.

"As I said it would be. Did you doubt me? But I am thankful you managed to escape Dosan's grasp. When I heard of your arrest it was too late. The Dukes ordered your release but it seems he had already...left his mark."

"Indeed. A very dear friend of ours was left lying on that cell floor," Jaheira said coldly.

"And you will be comforted somewhat to learn his body has been removed to the Temple of Helm. They will deal with him respectfully. I am only sorry I could not do more. You have my deepest sympathies," Sarevok said, bowing to them.

"And Dosan is dead?" Finn continued.

"Quite dead," he replied. "The Dukes put out the order for his arrest, but the man was intended not to fall without a fight. I cannot say I blame him, though—in his position only the gallows would await."

"And a more deserving bastard I can't think of," Finn said angrily. "I hope he's roasting in the Abyss."

Sarevok's lip curled and he began pacing slowly.

"It was quite clever of you to spring yourselves from his prison. Although I shouldn't be much surprised by that. You have proven yourself a very resourceful fellow, Lieutenant, and I shouldn't be surprised either to find you've earned yourself a promotion."

Finn let out a short laugh. "Chance would be a fine thing."

"Oh, no. Duke Eltan was most impressed when I told him the tales of your bravery. He expressed a desire to meet with you—once his healers have given him a clean bill of health, of course."

"How is the Duke?" Jaheira asked.

"Well as can be expected," Sarevok sighed. "He was under Dosan's mental control for quite some time. But he is a strong man, and will recover."

"We can but hope. But I am curious as to what evidence you finally managed to produce," she said.

The druid folded her arms and gave the man a keen look. Anna felt that not even an oracle would convince her that Anchev might actually be an ally.

"Letters in Dosan's own hand to my father, sharing out secret details and instructions. They were most damning and could leave little doubt as to their guilt. Once Duke Belt saw them he rallied the others, even placing Duke Eltan under temporary restraint. Considering the sway he had over the Dukes it was no small feat," Sarevok said.

"And it is most convenient that these letters finally managed to surface," Jaheira continued. "After all, you have had months to seek them."

"If you are implying something then I do not care for it," he said, turning to face her. "I was in no small danger myself from this affair. My father was ruthless, you know this well. He would not have hesitated to have me killed if he thought I had betrayed him."

"But he's dead now. So now what?" Finn remarked.

"The Dukes ordered your release, as I said. Captain Dessander has been placed in temporary command of the Flaming Fist until Duke Eltan is well enough to continue his duties. You should speak with him, of course, but I can only assume you are clear in this matter," Sarevok said.

Anna looked up at Finn and he gave her a little smile.

"I still can't believe this is done with," he said. "What do we—just go home, then?"

"I would be honoured if you would stay with me, as my guests," Sarevok replied. "We have much room to spare."

"Thank you, but if it all the same we should like to return to our inn," Jaheira said. "And see about recovering the equipment the Flaming Fist took at our arrest."

"If you would prefer," Anchev said, looking somewhat slighted by her blunt refusal. "The Golden Hind, is it not? I can instruct my driver to take you there forthwith. But as for your equipment I cannot help you."

"I wouldn't expect that," Finn said. "But yeah, I think...let's go."

Anna felt dazed as he sounded. It still seemed so unreal. After all this, for them to do nothing else but retreat to a quiet inn and wait as normal people—it seemed gifted from the heavens. But it was a strange gift and Anna's stomach refused to fully settle.

...

Sarevok produced his driver as promised. They all squeezed into the carriage and he bade them farewell.

"I should like to speak with you again soon," he said. "And I do not doubt the Dukes feel the same."

"Well, they'll know where we are," Finn replied.

Sarevok shut the door but Anna quickly leaned over.

"Wait—one of the servants has something of mine, my necklace. I gave it to him so he'd let us in. Please, could you get it back?"

Sarevok let out a chuckle. "Of course, I will see to it. Farewell, then."

He gestured to the driver and the carriage pulled away. Anna leaned back, hoping that this time at least he'd given proper directions. She undid the curtain beside her and glanced out at the city. All seemed still under the foggy streetlamps and a comforting glow shone from the public houses they passed by. Perhaps there was such a thing as safety, after all.

The driver reached their proper destination and they climbed out onto the cobbles. The Golden Hind looked staid and peaceful on its quiet street, with a handful of patrons drinking respectably in the common room. Anna felt the contrast with their own appearance but she didn't truly care.

The landlady seemed rather more put out however, but she still consented to rent them an extra room. Anna didn't ask where the coin would come from. All she could think of at that time was supper and a bath.

"I shall do what I can for Xan, and Kivan can watch him tonight," Jaheira said. "By appearances his comrades are not here. But I think there is little else to do now but rest."

No one could argue. Anna followed the porter as he showed her and Finn to their room. It was more snug than the elf's spacious quarters but like the rest of the inn it was tidy and comfortable. The porter lit a fire in the grate and Finn ordered their supper.

"Gods, I need a bath," he said after the man departed. "But it's not like I've got anything to change into."

He made a move to sit on a cushioned chair, but regarded his stained clothes grimly and remained standing.

"Neither do I, but I still want a bath," Anna replied. "Maybe we can rinse out a few things."

"Or burn them," he said.

At least the fire was warming the air and for the first time in a long while Anna didn't feel damp and chilly. A pitcher of water stood waiting and she washed and washed again, trying to remove as much of the grime as she could. She tried but there were some things she couldn't wash away.

Soon a pair of servants arrived with the feast. Herbed pigeon, a pie with parsnips, and a fruity pudding graced the table and it seemed a banquet fit for a king. Anna and Finn said nothing as they ate with an almost desperate eagerness. The food and the wine were most welcome to her empty stomach, but she became more and more aware of a hole she couldn't fill. Midway through the meal the table began to waver as her eyes filled up with tears.

_"Finn—" _she sobbed.

"Hey, I know. I know."

He rubbed the sleeve of her tattered robe gently. Anna reached quickly for her wine goblet, taking a deep swallow.

"He's gone," she choked. "He's gone. What are we going to do?"

"What we've always done, I suppose—move on," Finn said.

The words seemed hideously cold to her ears. _Move on. _They'd left untold bodies in their wake, but none she'd actually called a friend.

"We should...go to the temple," she whispered.

"We will," Finn soothed. "I can't believe it myself. But Dosan is dead, that's something at least."

"Is it? He won't bring Ajantis back. It's just...one more body."

"It's never just bodies," he replied.

Anna bit her lip hard. She tried and failed not to remember that horrible moment when Dosan's knife found his throat. It repeated in her mind with chilling accuracy, slowly, allowing her to take in even painful detail. She rested her elbows on the table and grasped her hair in her hands.

"Maybe we just ought to go to bed, eh?" Finn said quietly. "We can have a bath in the morning."

"Yes," she choked.

Their encrusted clothes seemed too ready to spoil the delicate-looking linens, so Finn slipped out of his and crawled naked into the bed. Slowly Anna pulled off her tattered robe, her stained underdress and her rent shift. Far from the fire the air still felt cold and its touch seemed strange on her bare skin. She slipped into the cold, crisp sheets and drew herself close to Finn.

He embraced her and she rested her head on his shoulder. Her fingers toyed idly with the hair on his chest, thinking how oddly soft it was to the touch. He smelled of sweat and other things, but so did she. Finn leaned forward and placed little kisses along her brow, letting his lips caress her dirty hair.

"I'm tired," Anna said quietly.

"Me too," he replied.

She let out a long sigh and shut her eyes. His heart was beating—she loved that sound. Calm and strong and steady, except when their lovemaking increased its pace. It seemed at odds with his personality somehow, but in other ways it fit. Finn snuggled her closer and she sighed again.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it. Since we've been together," he said.

"It has," she replied.

Her poisoning and the events that followed had left little room for marital intimacy. Anna felt that lack but with everything else it had been far from her mind.

"You'd think I was mad, but I actually like our dingy little hole," Finn said. "It felt like it was yours and mine, just ours. Your cottage in Beregost was a sight more comfortable, but still..."

He trailed off almost out of fear of offending her, but Anna let out a slight chuckle.

"I know. With Imoen and Maya there it wasn't the best for privacy. But I still think our poor neighbours downstairs might have heard a thing or two, especially with that wreck of a bed."

She actually managed a laugh and Finn chuckled with her.

"Aye. Someday though we'll have a place. If I did get promoted we could rent some proper good rooms, maybe even a house. That'd be nice."

"Someday," Anna said. A smile passed over her face, but it was a wistful one.

For some reason she thought of her mother. Not for the first time since they'd been in the city. It was strange how much her own marriage echoed that of her parents—the swift union, the rented rooms, the grand hopes that were turned into a quest for fuel to feed the greedy fire. At least the Fist gave them an allowance of firewood to keep warm, which was a luxury to many in that place.

But it was not entirely the same—her and Finn's life could hardly be described as anything like the quiet impoverished domesticity her parents had. And there was no child growing in her belly. But as she looked out over those grey streets Anna sometimes wondered what her mother felt. Was she happy? Did she ever feel trapped? She could never ask her those questions, not in that life at least. When she needed her mother the most she wasn't there.

"This is all so mad, isn't it?" Finn continued. "I don't know where to go first. I'd have thought the captain would want my scalp, but Anchev was talking about a promotion. And the Dukes want to talk with us...it's all mad."

"We should go to the temple first," Anna said. "We need to honour him."

"You're right. Who knows, maybe they could resurrect him. I'm sure the Helmites must have priests powerful enough for that."

"But they won't though," she said thoughtfully. "They never brought back his father or his brother, or the other knights who fell on their journey from Amn. A life is lived, then it is over. The dead are meant to move on."

"And leave us with the dust," Finn replied, a hoarse tone in his throat.

"Gorion," she whispered.

She mentioned him hesitantly knowing well Finn's usual reaction to his name, but he only sighed.

"Aye. I still keep thinking of the things he never told me. What was it? I'll probably never know. I'll just have to live with it."

Anna squeezed him tighter. There were things her mother never had the chance to share, but she doubted they were anything like the secrets Gorion sought to keep from his ward. What was the purpose of the elaborate web of falsehood? Like Finn, she would never know.

"But listen," he began. "About Ajantis..."

"What?" Anna replied.

"Nothing," Finn sighed. "It doesn't matter now."

She was too tired to drag the point out further. Anna drew herself closer to him and began a long search for sleep.

...

The sound of voices disturbed her from her rest. Anna clutched the covers to her bare body, surprised to see Finn talking to a stranger in the hall. He took some sort of bundle off him and shut the door.

"Sorry, love. But it looks like we've had a delivery," Finn said.

"Why, what?" Anna remarked, still heavy with sleep.

He opened the curtains and laid the bundle on the bed. It proved to be armfuls of fabric and Anna was very much surprised to see her own woad dress amongst the clothing.

"How did those get here?" she asked.

"Don't know. The porter said someone had delivered them this morning. They had them pressed and brought up here. Not that I'm complaining much!"

His own spare clothes were amongst the pile, and he held up his old woollen tunic with a pleased look on his face. Anna blinked and rubbed her eyes, staring at the window. Bright light streamed in and it must have been past noon.

"I called for a bath too, and breakfast," Finn continued. "Want to take odds on which will show up first?"

"I'd gladly eat in the bath if I had to," Anna laughed.

He grinned and crawled over the bed to kiss her. Anna laughed again as he nuzzled her neck, tickling in just the right places. It felt good to laugh for a moment like they used to. She ran a hand down his scarred cheek though and sighed.

"Does it look that bad?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said, giving him a little smile.

The knife-marks already looked like old scars, two pale lines tracing down his face. As scars went they weren't hideous but the memory of how they got there caused her pain. Finn seemed to misread her expression for he laughed nervously.

"Well—they say ladies like a fellow with scars. I don't really need to ask though, I've seen them in the mirror myself. I know they're not pretty."

"It doesn't matter," she tried to reassure him. "I won't pay them any mind. And they do give you a sort of rakish air."

Anna tried to laugh again. Finn though seemed to appreciate the effort and gave her a soft kiss.

Their food and bath arrived in short order and Anna greedily partook of both. She even took the time to wash out her hair, bathing and rinsing the long tangles of dingy blonde until they finally seemed clean. Gladly she slipped into clean underclothes and laced up her nice dress. Her feet felt comfortable and light thanks to her shoes, a great change from her heavy, travel-stained boots. After dressing she sat in a chair by the fire, drying her hair and watching Finn bathe.

Not long after he'd finished bathing there was another knock on the door. Jaheira stood there, likewise looking cleaner than she had of late.

"Good afternoon," she said, and her strained tone told that she was still on edge. "I hope you have had time to rest. We have been given a summons from the Dukes to meet with them at the palace, at our earliest convenience. Loosely translated, we are to attend as soon as possible."

She held out a gilded parchment. Finn took it up but Anna didn't bother to read the flowing script.

"What of Ajantis?" she asked instead.

Jaheira sighed. "We had word from the temple that they are delaying his cleansing for a few days. I am not sure of the cause—he has no family here. But I hope we can pay our respects soon."

Anna slowly nodded and idly played with her loose hair. Finn let out a breath and handed the parchment back to Jaheira.

"Well, if we need to go to the palace then we need to go. Might be interesting to hear what the Dukes have to say, but I'm about past the point of caring myself."

"You are not the only one," she replied. "But meet us in Xan's chambers when you are ready."

"How is he this morning?" Anna asked.

"Much the same," Jaheira said grimly. "I think it best if he remains behind. Kivan will watch him. In a moment, then."

She departed back up the hall without another word. Finn shut the door and an agitated look spread over his face.

"Bloody Dukes. I don't really give a damn. We've been bleeding for them while they've been sat on their behinds, twiddling their thumbs while war moved closer. Almost wish I hadn't had a bath now—let them revel in stink for a change."

"I know," Anna said. "But at least you've thought of your wife's nose."

Finn smiled a little and gave her a kiss. Anna's hair still wasn't entirely dry but she struggled to whip the mass up into braids as quickly as she could. She wrapped herself in her good mantle and followed Finn down to Xan's chambers.

The enchanter sat upright in a chair though his eyes never raised at their entrance. Kivan stood near to hand; he bowed his head in greeting but Anna thought his expression was more grim than usual. Khalid and Jaheira waited there as well but her eyes were drawn to the table. Their seized weapons were laid out there, as was her precious spellbook.

"Oh, good one!" Finn exclaimed, taking up his sword. "I've been itching to get this back. Did they bring these round with our clothes?"

"I have no idea," Jaheira replied. "A mercenary delivered the weapons this morning. We were staying here before our arrest so our spare things were waiting. I'd noticed you'd changed, but I just assumed you had them sent for."

"Well, I'm not going to quibble," Finn said. "Shall we go and get this thing over with? I still need to talk with my captain."

"Yes, a good idea," she sighed. "Kivan, will you manage in the meantime?"

"There is little any of us can do now," the elf replied gravely.

Anna looked at Xan but his eyes made her stomach feel strange. He'd been bathed and was dressed in a clean tunic, but that distant look was unsettling. Xan looked around the room almost as if it wasn't there. Anna had expected him to make some improvement in the night but he seemed worse than before.

"Yes, let us go," Jaheira said quietly.

...

The distance between the Golden Hind and the palace wasn't a great one so they set out on foot. Anna regretted the decision though feeling the keen blast of the breeze. The sky overhead was finally clear but the moderated temperatures had left with the clouds. She wouldn't be surprised if snow began to fall soon.

A guard at the gate examined their summons and directed them into the grand entrance hall. It was busy as before, with merchants and clerks of all description making their tireless rounds. After a few minutes they were approached by an official of some description.

"Greetings, I am Meris Pollam," she said crisply, sweeping up in her robe. "I was told you have a summons from the Grand Dukes? Yes...this seems in order. You have come at a good time—the Dukes are in their audience chamber now. I was told to keep an eye out for you, as it happens. I will need to do some wrangling with the schedules but I believe I can get you an immediate audience. Merchant Bazim will not be happy, but he greatly enjoys having something to complain about."

She walked as she spoke, gesturing for them to follow her. Quickly she led them up the numerous flights of stairs to an antechamber on an upper floor. Several well-dressed men and women waited impatiently there, fidgeting on the comfortable sofas. Upon their arrival a heavyset man in exotic robes rose to his feet.

"Mistress Pollam, what is the nature of this delay?" he said agitatedly. "I can tolerate this no longer. There is no reason whatsoever to keep my ship under quarantine! A few rats are always expected on shipboard. The fruits are delicate, Mistress, and I must see them to market or risk—"

"Please, Master Bazim, the Dukes will hear you plea as soon as they are able," the woman replied. "But these people must be seen with great urgency."

"Urgency!" the man scoffed. "Urgency! Who are they? They have not been waiting! Let them wait like the rest of us!"

More than one voice echoed his conclusion, but Mistress Pollam waved the group into a smaller waiting area and shut the door on the impatient merchants.

"Troubles?" Finn asked.

"No, just an ordinary day in the palace," she said matter-of-factly. "Please wait here. I will let the Dukes know you have arrived."

She promptly disappeared again into another room. The group fidgeted in their own right but after a minute she appeared once more.

"This way, please. The Dukes will see you now."

...

Mistress Pollam led them into the room. It was a different chamber than they last met the Dukes, with a higher ceiling and more official-looking. She bowed and introduced the group, then crisply made her departure.

"Well, it is an honour to meet you at last. I understand that we have met before, but my memory of that incident is not very clear."

Anna felt somewhat surprised to see Duke Eltan addressing them, though perhaps she shouldn't be. Surprise was an emotion fast draining from her. The grizzled old Duke still looked pale and shrunken but his manner sounded easier than before.

"Yes, a great deal has happened since then," Duchess Jannath said. "But we did wish to meet with you, and give you our thanks."

"Yes, quite," Duke Belt chimed in. "Although not _exactly _in keeping with law and order your confrontation with Rieltar Anchev did our city a great favour. Sarevok Anchev has insisted that his father struck the first blow, and we are not disinclined to believe him."

Anna drew a slight breath; it was a great relief to hear those words. But Duke Silvershield spoke in that aristocratic tone of his.

"In spite of this, however, very little has changed. We still have strong reason to suspect Amn played a hand in these events. Our diplomatic relations with them have not warmed."

"Indeed. It is evident that Anchev and Dosan were not acting on their own," Duke Eltan said. "And we have still not fully ascertained the identity of the men found dead in the Iron Throne compound. Until we do I am keeping the Flaming Fist in a state of readiness. I trust you will be ready to fulfil your duties again, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," Finn replied.

He saluted the Duke but Anna detected a hint of dryness in his manner.

"Very good. It warms my old heart to see a worthy soldier. Far better than that worthless dog, Dosan. Captain Dessander will still be in charge of day-to-day operations for awhile, with my oversight. Speak with him to get your orders. And we—Belt, I believe there was a more tangible reward on offer?"

"What? Oh, yes," the Duke replied, wiping his spectacles distractedly. "Considering what you've done we only thought it fair you should have some sort of reward. What was the amount agreed upon? One thousand gold? A reasonable sum. Speak with head clerk Laveran in the vaults on your way out, he'll see you're paid."

"Yes, and thank you again for your help," Duchess Jannath said. "But I believe we have other business to attend?"

Duke Belt groaned. "Quite. I can hear old Bazim whining from here. Good day to you people."

In spite of the dismissal the four of them didn't move. A thousand gold, for what? For their trouble? For Ajantis' life? And the crisis with Amn hadn't faded. Anna glanced over the Dukes. The Duchess was regarding some sort of ledger, Duke Belt still toyed with those spectacles of his, and Duke Eltan sat upright and firm. Duke Silvershield gave them a sympathetic look, but that was all.

They said their mostly-ignored farewells to the Dukes and filed out of the room, back down the stairs to the entrance hall. Finn looked around with a scowl.

"Anyone else inclined to pick up this reward?" he said.

"Not I," Jaheira replied.

Her eyes were sparking and Anna could tell she wasn't much pleased with the meeting, either.

"So n-nothing has truly changed, h-has it?" Khalid said. "A w-war with Amn still s-seems likely."

"Aye, and I've got to go take my place in the rank," Finn said grimly.

"You are having second thoughts about joining the Flaming Fist?" Jaheira asked as they left the palace.

"It's not all what I'd hoped it would be, let's leave it at that," he replied. "But I'm still an officer and there's not much I can do."

...

Anna slid a hand out of her mantle and grasped his in hers. He squeezed it tight but she could still feel the cold breeze numbing her fingers. When they returned to the inn he hesitated on the step.

"I'd better go see the captain now," Finn said to Anna. "See what he's got planned for me. You want to stay here another night, maybe, then head back to the house?"

"No...I'd like to go home," she said quietly. "We might as well. I can get our things settled here then meet you back there. But wouldn't you rather have some lunch first?"

"Not hungry," he replied. "But you go ahead, if that's what you want. I'll see you at home later."

Finn gave her a distracted kiss on the cheek and set off down the lane, pulling his hood up against the cold. Anna stood on the step for a moment watching him but surprisingly Kivan brushed past. He greeted her but said nothing else as he too disappeared into the street.

She knocked on the door to Xan's rooms and entered on Jaheira's voice. Khalid was sitting on the sofa with a book, though it didn't seem like he was reading. He gave Anna one of his gentle, nervous smiles then looked back to the book. Jaheira was busy mixing up a tonic and Xan wasn't in sight.

"Finn and I are going back to the house," she said. "There doesn't seem to be much more for us to do here."

"No, I suppose not," Jaheira said.

"Is there anything I can do before I go?" Anna asked.

Though she knew there was little reason for them to stay, she felt somehow like she was leaving them burdened. Jaheira set the potion bottle down with a clink.

"You might give Xan his tonic. I sent Kivan down to the apothecary but I entirely forgot that we needed more yarrow. Silvanus, I swear my mind has gone of late. I shall try to catch him. Two spoonfuls in wine!"

Anna looked at her in surprise as the druid whipped on her cloak and hurried from the room with a brief goodbye. Khalid watched her go and looked back down to the book with a sigh.

"Is she doing well?" Anna asked.

She hadn't forgotten the druid's own injuries in the sewers. Finn's gifts were potent but even they had their limits.

"She always p-pushes herself too hard," he replied. "Though I feel she has been as l-lost as we lately."

Anna couldn't argue with that. She took up the bottle of tonic and a small amount of wine and knocked quietly on Xan's chamber door. There was no response so she let herself in.

The curtains were drawn making the room rather dim. The elf was in bed, under the covers but sitting upright as always. He gazed at the fire in the grate as if it were a mystical thing, and so strong was his gaze that Anna worried he might hurt his eyes.

"I have your medicine, Xan," she said clearly, but he didn't respond. "Er..._fion?"_

She couldn't recall the Elvish word for 'medicine', so 'wine' would have to suffice. The offer still seemed to have little effect, however, and Anna proceeded to mix the two with a sigh. She held out the cup to him but Xan made no move to take it. She hesitated, then slowly pressed it up to his lips, hoping he might take the cue. Thankfully the elf took a sip, but she groaned inwardly as he promptly spit it back out. Having been on the receiving end of Jaheira's tonic herself she could understand the reflex, but she needed to get him to drink.

_"Please drink," _she said to him in Elvish. _"It will make you well."_

An optimistic view, perhaps. Xan however didn't move. Anna kept the cup held out in the air before him, hoping he might take the draught. She had never been much of a nurse and this sort of behaviour was beyond her. In truth though Xan's strangeness almost frightened her. What did he mean when he looked at her with those queer eyes? _You are charmed. _No answer would come to her.

Anna waited only a minute more before setting the cup down with another groan. Jaheira would just have to tend to it when she came back. She turned from the vacant elf with more respect for the druid's duties, but was startled by the sound of Xan's voice.

_"Don't leave," _he said in Elvish. Anna turned back to him in surprise. His eyes were still vacant, staring at the fire. He repeated the request and she sat down slowly next to the bed.

_"I won't. What is it?" _she asked.

_"Don't leave me. Please don't leave..."_

_"I'm here," _Anna reassured him, though his continued entreaties puzzled her. _"What is it?"_

_"Don't leave," _he whispered again. _"My heart. I love you."_

Anna's mouth fell open and she stared at the elf. He never looked at her, still gazing into the fire. Somehow she stammered a reply.

_"I...what do you mean?"_

_"Luedre...my beloved. Please do not leave."_

Anna felt the colour that had drained from her cheeks returning in spades. Xan wasn't speaking to her, thankfully. Although one awkward moment was replaced by another as she considered the elf's dazed and intimate revelations. So he and the lady Greycloak were lovers after all? Estranged lovers, by the sound of his plea. Swiftly she rose up and left Xan to his heartfelt musings.

"I couldn't get him to take his medicine," Anna said to Khalid.

"That's alright. H-he can be difficult at times," he replied.

"How long will he be this way?" she said, almost to herself.

"Kivan has b-been helping him," Khalid said. "Guiding him through his reveries. Xan took a h-hard blow to the head. Jaheira has hope..."

He trailed off, gazing almost like Xan out the window. How strange it was that such a comfortable little room could be the site of such sickness and pain. Anna recalled with a shudder her own days spent languishing there in that horrid poison's grip. Suddenly another image flashed over her, vague and strange—one of her, lying on the carpet and staring at the fire. Someone stood over her, who was it? A fever dream, it must have been. She shivered in the warm air and felt a great desire to go home.

...

Lunch was now an abandoned memory—like Finn she'd lost her appetite. Anna excused herself to their room and gathered up their few things. By the time she'd called for a carriage Jaheira and Kivan had returned. She said her farewells, not even mentioning a visit to the Temple of Helm. A sudden fear had gripped her there, too, and a part of her didn't want to go. Soon the carriage arrived and Anna was on her way back to the dingy old house.

Their neighbour who tended the gate looked on her in surprise but he said little as he let her into the house. Anna slowly climbed the dark, musty-smelling staircase to their room. The door was unlocked, not surprisingly, and had obviously been searched. But it seemed unusually tidy for that; the floor was swept and the little woven table runner was on straight and true. Anna suspected she knew who to thank for that, and her suspicions were rewarded by a light tap on the door.

"Hello. Are you back, then?"

She turned to see Ella standing there, wearing that big, smudged apron as always. She gave Anna a pained smile and she smiled back.

"By Chauntea, I hope so. I can't think you've ever had neighbours like us before."

"You say that, but you never met old sloshed-up Remus and his wife," Ella replied, laughing a little.

"Did you tidy in here? Thank you," Anna said.

"I did a bit. Hope I wasn't stepping on your toes. Seemed a right shame for this place to be a mess, and you in prison...but you got the clothes, then?"

"Yes, you sent them?" she said, surprised.

"Me and Mick. He found out where you was staying, thought you could use a change. I said 'they can't have no clean knickers, them.' But I'm glad you got 'em."

Anna gave her a very grateful smile, and Ella seemed almost embarrassed.

"Well, there was one other thing, though. This came while you were gone, but I reckoned to hold on to it. Not many folks here get letters."

Ella slipped a rather wrinkled and battered piece of parchment from her apron and Anna eagerly took it up. Travel-worn it was but the seal was still intact. It was carefully addressed to her and Finn in a rather crabbed script that she recognised.

"Oh, thank you so much!" Anna said. "For everything. I mean that."

"Not a problem," Ella replied. "But I'll leave you to it for now. Both me laddies are sleeping but that won't last long. Let me know if you need ought, pet."

Anna smiled again and shut the door behind her. She tore open the seal without even bothering to light a fire; the letter promised a bit of sunshine on that weary day. She sat down happily and began to read Imoen's crinkly handwriting.

_"Greetings and Salutations, respected Brother and Sister-in-Law,_

_Isn't that awful? Vera taught me to start a letter like that. I think being married to old Puffguts Winthrop all these years has gotten to her. How are you in the big city? Candlekeep is boring as always. I'm so bored I keep playing games with myself. Do you remember the old games we used to play, Finn? Like the one when we were studying? I do... However, it's boring alone. Especially when there's no one my age to talk to. Like I said, boring. Please don't think I'm ungrateful, though. Can you think of anything more silly? One must make the most of every situation. My studies are still interesting. Every day I work on my magic. Someday I will be a great wizard, I'm sure. Oh, I know it's hard work. One day. Now I just keep trying..."_

Anna stared at the letter, trying to work out how much ale Imoen had drunk when she wrote it. None of it made any sense—she just jumped from one thought to another in a fashion not even seen with her. The letter was also strangely short—she could imagine Imoen going on for pages and pages about her dull life in the monastery. But that was all.

There was something in the letter though, Anna was sure, either that or Imoen had gone mad with boredom. _The games we used to play... _Then Anna saw it. The first letters, the ones that followed after, they spelled out words—_Help Come Soon... _That random note was nothing but a plea for help. Her heart flopped in her chest and she let the letter slide down onto the table.


	92. Cold Morning

Anna's thoughts were now filled with nothing but the letter and she wandered from window to wall in her pacing. Where was Finn? She had no idea when he'd be home. And what could Imoen's strange note mean? She obviously felt in danger if she saw the need to write a cryptic plea, but Anna struggled to imagine what trouble could lurk within the solid walls of Candlekeep. At last she could bear no more of worrying and hurried out of the house to direct her energy into some much needed marketing.

The fire was crackling and a pottage bubbling by the time Finn came home. He threw his cloak down onto the bed with a sigh.

"Alright, then? Everything square here?"

He spoke automatically, clearly not noticing the look on Anna's face.

"It's fine here...but Finn, Imoen sent us a letter."

"Did she now? That's good. Can't wait to read her ripping a hole in me for letting her rot there," he chuckled slightly.

"She doesn't—there's something wrong."

Anna handed him the letter and he finally looked more alert. He read it over, puzzled, but then the realisation broke over his face.

"Bloody hells," he said. "Bloody hells."

"What do you think it could be?" she asked.

"No idea. And I can't think this is just a ploy to get us to come and visit," he said, dropping into a chair to read the letter again.

"But how could we go? Candlekeep would be near a tenday's fast ride from here, and the weather is likely to turn any day. That's assuming you could get any leave, regardless. What did the captain say?"

Finn grimaced. "It weren't the best conversation I've ever had in my life. Dessander isn't feeling very relaxed, even with Dosan dead. He didn't even seem bothered that we let Marek escape. He's actually given me a few days' leave considering all we've been through. But not enough to get to Candlekeep, and I'm not meant to leave the city anyway."

"Perhaps I could go," Anna mused.

"Not on your own, you're not," Finn said quickly. "The gods only know what's going on there."

"Jaheira and Khalid might come too, if they aren't...busy," she fumbled.

It did seem an impossibility, but Imoen's note couldn't be ignored. There had to be some way.

"I don't know," he groaned. "What have we got to eat? I'm starved."

Anna served up the pottage and sliced the bread. They ate quickly while they soaked up the stew with the sops. Anna's mind was racing—always one thing to another, they could never get any peace. Finn almost seemed to read her thoughts for his next statement was more worrying still.

"And the Duke was right about the Fist not being stood down. The captain says the Duke wants to organise a militia in the city, and he's put me down as a drillmaster. Don't know but they might want something of you too, being a spellcaster."

Anna looked up at him but didn't say anything. They finished the meal in silence and went to bed not long after.

...

Finn didn't need to report in the next morning and they took the advantage for sleep, such as it was. Anna kept having strange dreams—not nightmares exactly, but ones where unknown figures kept stalking her. Then Ajantis was there, talking to her as he used to before she could remember the truth. He vanished and her eyes slowly blinked open.

The fire had died down in the night and the air outside the blankets was cold. Next to her Finn still slept soundly, his mouth half-open on the pillow. He stirred when Anna forced herself from bed but didn't wake. Quickly she drew on her shawl and went to prod up the fire. The bare boards were cold underfoot and she resolved to knit herself a pair of slippers whenever she found the time.

She drew aside the curtain and scraped some of the frost from the windowpanes to get a peephole to the world below. The garden was dingy-pale with frost but no snow had fallen in the night. The light shining through the frosted glass was beautiful though, like a forest of waving fronds etched with the most delicate of tools. Anna shivered a bit and let the curtain drop.

"Did it snow?" Finn's groggy voice asked.

She turned to see him stretching out in bed. Anna went and slid back under the blankets next to his warmth.

"No, just frost."

"Feels like snow," he replied.

They stayed curled up together until the fire had warmed the air. After they dressed Anna set the pot back over the coals to heat what was left of the stew for breakfast.

"What do you want to do today?" Finn asked.

"We should go see him," she said.

Finn nodded in agreement. Anna gazed at the melting frost on the window and wondered if she were truly awake. She felt still half in a dream somehow. They were free, but they weren't safe. For all she knew Xan was still lost in himself, and one friend was lost forever.

"Are you still with me?" Finn asked.

He waved a hand slowly in front of her eyes, a little grin on his face. Anna started and smiled.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking about home."

"I thought we were already there," he said.

Anna gave him a look but his eyes were down in his pottage. Perhaps he was right, though—for better or worse this was their home now.

As she was clearing away the breakfast dishes a knock sounded on the door. Finn took a letter of some sort off their neighbour and broke open the seal.

"Who is that from?" she asked, wary of the look on his face.

"Don't know," he replied. "It just says that someone would like a meeting with us today at the Hall of Wonders, at noon no less. People don't half like to be mysterious, do they?"

He gave Anna the note and she read it over with the same look he did. It was written in a fine hand on fine parchment though the seal bore no crest. She gave it back to him with a groan.

"I don't think we should go. I'm getting tired of people who can't even bother to come up with a false name. And it says nothing of what they want. We have more important meetings to see to."

"You're right," Finn said. "I'm fed up with all this cloak and dagger. You want to go to the temple first, or should we go to the Golden Hind?"

Anna knew they should seek out their friends, but a part of her didn't want to learn of Xan's condition. There was only so much she could handle that morning.

Solemnly they wrapped themselves against the cold and went out into the city streets. The dim sunlight caught against the frost and sent every discarded barrel and empty wagon glistening. The effect was startling to the eyes and with the cold breeze Anna's eyes began to tear over. Finn saw the tears and wrapped his arm around her. She smiled at him; being close felt good, even if she wasn't actually crying just then. Given time her tears would likely be real enough.

They mounted the long steps and made their way into the better half of the city. The frost had now melted where the sun had struck it but chilly patches still lurked in the shadows. The cobblestones were slippery with the melting frost and they stepped carefully to avoid having a tumble. Up above the rooftops Anna could see the dome of the Temple of Helm rising into the cold air. She took one look at it and froze in her tracks.

"You all right?" Finn asked, looking back at her.

"I can't go," she said quietly. "I can't do this."

He gave her a sympathetic look but her feet refused to budge. What was wrong? Anna had attended more than one funeral in her life, and she'd seen more dead bodies than she cared to remember. But somehow she couldn't manage this one. If Ajantis' twisted wraith lurked somewhere within that temple she would feel no less fear.

"It's alright, love. We could just go in and make an offering. Ajantis would understand. Hells, he'd probably say ladies were too delicate to do much more."

He laughed a little and Anna cracked a smile. Oddly she could just imagine the knight saying such a thing. The wind kept stinging her cheeks and she wiped her eyes with her mitt.

"Come on. There's a pub over there, we could pop in and have a drink to warm ourselves. You'll feel better then," Finn said.

...

Anna nodded; anything to get them off that cold street. She paid no attention to the sign above the door as they stepped over the threshold. The tavern was dimly lit but plenty warm and the smell of roasting meats drifted enticingly from the spit above the fire. The patrons seemed respectable and a pair of cheerful barmaids flitted from table to tap and back again. Anna and Finn found a seat in a corner table and a maid brought their drinks.

"It's been ages since I've had mulled wine," she said, pressing her hands against the warm pewter goblet. "Maya always made it in the winter. One of her little indulgences."

"A bit fragrant for me," Finn said over his ale. "But it warms you up all right after a cold night's patrol."

She smiled and drew in the spicy scent while watching the other patrons eating and drinking. Local merchants for the most part, she'd be willing to bet. They usually closed shop for an hour or so around mid-day, taking the time to relax and enjoy a few shopkeeper's tales. Anna thought of their commonplace lives and felt somewhat envious.

"Do you think you'll stay in the city, if anything...happens?" she asked suddenly.

Finn clenched his lip. "I hope so. Can't ever predict anything. The gods know why Amn would want to march north at this time of year, but they've got the Cowled Wizards to melt them a path. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, though."

On impulse she reached over and grasped his hands. He smiled and caressed hers in return.

"But don't worry about it, alright?" he said. "More than likely this is just a lot of posing on both sides."

"Finn, so help me, if you say not to worry one more time..."

Anna's eyes laughed at him but her tone had an edge of seriousness. A sheepish grin escaped his mouth and he chuckled a little.

"Sorry, I can't help it. Maybe I think if I tell you not to worry, then I won't either."

"Does it work?" she asked him.

He smiled and shook his head.

"Not really."

Anna squeezed his hands again. Finn could be boyishly sweet at times, and she felt a bit guilty for being irritated.

"Regardless, winter is still coming," she said with a little sigh. "I never thought I'd be spending it in the city."

"Why, does it matter?" he asked. "I'd have thought it'd be better than the country in a lot of ways."

"I suppose so. Sometimes I'd be housebound for days, if it was really cold or we had a heavy fall. But...I don't know. It's just different."

"Hm. I'm glad to be here myself, in spite of everything," Finn mused. "In the winter Candlekeep really did feel like a world removed. Not so many nobles were keen to make the trip and everything seemed to freeze over. The old monastery got to feeling like an icehouse. And the wind off the coast cuts into you like a knife."

"It would have been hard there, I suppose," she agreed.

"Well, it wasn't all bad. The monks took a holiday of sorts during Midwinter—there was always roasted boar and special wine, and fancy sweetcakes. They'd all get together in the hall of an evening and tell tales over their mead. That was something to hear, but Gorion's were always the best."

"I'd imagine you were a bit biased," Anna smiled.

"Naw, not family loyalty," he chuckled. "He really could spin a tale. He had this voice that made you want to listen. Didn't always work on me, though."

They both laughed. Finn's eyes seemed warm with memory, but suddenly they saddened.

"We just left him there, you know."

"Gorion?" she asked. "You mean, when..."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "There wasn't anything else we could do. I knew I couldn't go back home, and Imoen wasn't in a mood to hear sense. We covered him up with his cloak and marked the site with stones. That was all. Not hardly fitting a grave."

Finn cleared his throat and she sighed.

"There wasn't anything else you could do," Anna repeated. "Gorion would understand."

He reached into his jerkin pocket and drew out a small amulet, turning it over thoughtfully in his hand. He saw the puzzled look on Anna's face and gave it to her. The silver was tarnished but she could easily make out the shape of a quill and scroll.

"That's the symbol of Oghma," she said.

"Aye. It was his. I took it off him when he died."

She glanced up at him, surprised, then looked back down to the medallion. It suddenly felt heavy in her hands and she passed it back to him.

"I've never seen that before," Anna remarked.

"No," Finn sighed. "I've kept it out of the way. Mostly I just didn't want to lose it. A bit of a miracle I've still got it, all told."

"Well, it's good to hold on to something," she said.

Anna touched her bare neck, thinking of her own mother's necklace. Hopefully Anchev would follow through in his promise to rescue it for her.

"Seems strange that this is all I have," he continued. "Gorion never was one for possessions, just his books really. I think he wore the same robe for the past five years, even. And this is all I've got left."

"I don't think it's everything, Finn," she said quietly. "Gorion left you with a great deal more than that."

"And it's still not as much as he wanted," he replied. "This might as well be all."

He tucked the amulet safely back into his pocket and took a swallow of ale.

"Do you really think he was disappointed in you?" she asked.

"I know he was. I could see it in his eyes," Finn said. "He wanted me to be a sage like him. He force-fed me books when I was a lad—I never could see the point. I wanted to get out into the air, not getting a hump all caged up in the library. He never wanted me to be a fighter. I didn't act like him, I didn't think like him. I just couldn't. I tried, but I couldn't."

"But you were his son," she said, a little crack in her voice.

"Was I? I don't know. I wanted to be. I looked up to him—I was in awe of him, tell the truth. He was the wisest fellow who ever lived. He was kind, never had a harsh word for anyone. He always knew the right thing to do. Like some saint, he was. But I could never be that way."

"He was only a man, however good of one. Please don't beat yourself over that. And he must have loved you, Finn."

His mouth twisted and Anna thought his eyes looked red. Finn pulled out the amulet again and caressed it in his fingers.

"It sounds daft, but I was almost afraid of him. Not in the usual way. But just what he _was—_he reminded me of what I couldn't be. I used to pray to Oghma every night, when I was alone in my room. I prayed for him to make me like Gorion. But he never answered my prayer, and I knew why. It just wasn't meant to be. I could never be good."

"Oh, please stop," Anna said suddenly. "You talk as if you were a demon. You were just a rebellious young lad, that's all. If Gorion was even half as wise as you say he'd have understood that. Please, don't torment yourself over this anymore. I can't bear it."

"Sorry," he said flatly, and put the amulet away.

They sat in silence. Anna's wine had gone tepid but she drank it without noticing. She raised her eyes to Finn. He was regarding another corner of the room intently, his eyes bright as blue flame. She drew a deep breath and spoke.

"My uncle used to say that life is a journey. We choose our paths, but there's no telling what we might meet along the way. Gorion wasn't born a sage, and you certainly weren't born with bad blood. You make a choice. And Oghma doesn't freely dish out wisdom any more than Chauntea ploughs our fields. The gods help us and guide us, but we still need to do our share."

"I know that," Finn said. "And I never said I blamed him. Like you said, it was just my path."

Anna sighed and rubbed her forehead. A dull ache was building there, and suddenly the business of the day came back to her.

"I'm ready to go to the temple now, if you are," she said quietly.

"Aye. Let's go," he said.

...

They left the tavern and ventured back into the street. The pale sunlight of late autumn caressed Anna's cheek, kissing it softly with its warmth. Warm lips found the same spot and she gave Finn a little smile. He walked tall next to her, with a stiffness of frame she thought borrowed from his captain's inspections. Anna slipped her arm around his waist and he pulled her closer as they walked the final steps to the temple.

When they mounted the steps she felt her courage failing again. Finn noticed the change and they both paused.

"Will you be alright?" he asked.

"I will be," she resolved.

He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze then pushed open the heavy door. The inside of the temple was darker than the bright street and it took Anna's eyes a moment to adjust. There were no services at that hour and the place looked empty. A watchful presence seemed to fill the great hall, and Anna could feel it looking on her. It wasn't threatening, but like the eyes of a guard she was aware of it.

The followers of the Earthmother built few temples—trying to bound the great goddess within stone seemed almost disrespectful. Chauntea was everywhere, in the land, in the trees, in the rain that watered the fields. Her true temples were the family hearth, or the soft mist that covered the freshly ploughed ground. To worship in a temple like the one they found themselves in seemed alien and strange, but for Ajantis she would.

Silently they made their way up to the great suit of armour that guarded the dais. She knelt and touched her fingertips to the hilt of the large broadsword as she'd seen other worshippers do. It felt clean and cold to the touch, almost like law itself. Anna looked up at the shining faceplate that covered the helm. She could easily picture a mighty man inside, watchful, strong and vigilant. But she felt little warmth.

Each year at the harvestide Chaunteans would made a statue of the goddess out of the ripened corn and other fruits of the field, to preside over the festival. Anna always remarked at how lifelike they seemed—her gentle eyes and soft mouth, her hands open with her gifts. Chauntea truly was like a mother, loving and kind, but she could also be severe.

Anna recalled the Pastorals' tales, of how in the older days of the world Chauntea did battle with other gods who would threaten her children. She fought with a mother's heart and she triumphed for them all. But somehow Anna could never picture her that way. Always to her she wore that gentle, patient face, a face that would carry through the ages, never tiring and never forgetting her children.

But she recalled too Ajantis' pride of how Helm held dear the children, and others in need of protection. What was the purpose of the law, after all, if not to protect the vulnerable? She saw that side of the hard god reflected in her friend and it warmed her. Anna tried to convince Finn that there were other ways of seeing; perhaps she should accept the same.

She glanced at him as he knelt next to her. His head was bowed and whatever his thoughts were she couldn't know. Was he praying for Ajantis, or perhaps someone else? But she did know that Finn needed to learn to forgive himself, or he would never find peace.

They finished their prayers and rose from their knees. Lost in her thoughts Anna didn't notice a cleric approaching them until he spoke.

"Forgive me, I did not wish to disturb your meditations. But you are a friend of Sir Ajantis, are you not? I believe I recognise you."

"Yes...yes we are," Anna said. Looking at him she realised he was the priest from the vault who kept vigil over Henerick Jhasso.

"I thought as much. I am sorry you have had such sorrowful calls to visit us of late," he said.

"So am I," she replied, looking at the tiled floor.

"Sir Ajantis is lying in the vaults now, if you would wish to add your voices to his vigil. As friends of his you would be most welcome."

Anna looked up at Finn, a trace of that fear in her eyes. He looked at her and spoke to the priest.

"Aye, we would. He was a friend of ours, and I owe him a lot."

Finn gave Anna a little smile. She remembered it was Ajantis who saved her from the ankheg on that summer's evening that seemed so long ago. She'd felt so foolish standing in her dusty dress with leaves and twigs in her hair, foolish but grateful. The priest nodded and beckoned for them to follow.

"Has anyone else...been to see him?" Anna asked as they made their way to the vault.

"Yes, a half-elven couple paid their respects earlier this morning," he said.

"I am sorry we have left this so late," she tried to apologise. "We...have had a difficult time recently."

The words were a great understatement. But the priest turned back to her with a sympathetic look.

"Have no fear. Sir Ajantis' mortal remains have not been left unattended since he arrived here. We are his brothers and sisters in the service of Helm, and we watch over him as family. But his devotion earned him a great deal of respect in our temple and he is no stranger to us. We mourn his loss as you."

"I am glad to hear," she said, with a choke in her voice.

...

The priest opened the door to the vaults and Anna was hit again with that stale air. It suddenly seemed a dungeon, not a place of rest. Her feet hesitated on the stairs but Finn took her by the arm. The cleric led them down that long hall, past the alcoves and rooms of mourning. Candlelight issued from within one room and slowly Anna stepped inside.

It struck her first how familiar the scene was. A pair of priests kneeled before a bier that was bordered by thick pillars of wax. Their soft chanting echoed as whispers around the small chamber. But the shrouded body that lay on the bier was not one of a slight elderly man. Even in death Ajantis' broad frame was clear underneath the pale linen, lying unnaturally stiff and still. Though his corpse was well-shrouded Anna imagined for one moment she could see his face and her heart quaked.

"Please join them," the priest said quietly. "We pray now that his spirit will find its way along the Final Road to the House of the Triad, to stand by the Vigilant One's side. I do not believe you are of our faith, but please use whatever words of the heart you would have. Helm values honesty above all else. Be in peace."

With that the priest bowed and left them. Finn slowly took his place on one of the kneeling stools and Anna followed. She bowed her head and tried to speak, but all she could feel was the presence of that shrouded figure. A frigid chill rose up her spine and came to rest in her neck, sending her heart flopping in her chest. Ajantis was dead. Ajantis was gone, and wherever he went from there she would never see him again.

He died so quickly...there had been no time for parting words. She expected that, given the life they had lead—they all knew death could come at any time. Anna had felt its cold hand on her shoulder more than once. But to actually feel, to actually know, to have the cold body of a friend shrouded before her...it seemed impossible. How could her friend be gone? She could still see Ajantis in her mind's eye, smiling that gentle smile of his. He could not be a ghost, he could not be gone.

But he was. The body before her was a cold testament to that hard fact. Next to her Finn chanted quietly, a lament to Kelemvor that he must have learned in Candlekeep. But Anna had no such words. _Beloved Mother, embrace your child _were the ones used by the Pastorals but they did not seem to fit here. What did she have? Anna could think of nothing. Not even for her friend? Her tongue was frozen in her mouth. Tears rolled over her cheeks and her chest suddenly racked in a deep sob.

Finn's hand caressed her arm but in sympathy he said nothing. Anna tried to compose herself but more tears kept coming. Her vision was blurred from their heat and her stomach felt ill. At last Finn gently pulled her to her feet and helped her from the vaults.

"Oh, gods," she sobbed when they were in the free air. "I feel like a fool."

"Why?" he asked. "I'm sure those priests have seen more than their share of tears. Don't worry about it."

Anna choked again into her handkerchief and leaned against a pillar for support. Finn was right, she knew, but she couldn't help her feelings. She could not be stoic and in spite of her intentions she melted like jelly.

"We'll come back," Finn soothed her. "They've still got to have a funeral. We'll find out when it is. Maybe you'll be calmer then."

Anna nodded and blew her nose. She must have looked a ridiculous sight but Finn only gave her a little smile.

"Gorion used to say that funerals are as much for the living as the dead. The gods will see to the dead, but we're the ones left behind, left to muddle through without them. It's hard." He paused for a moment, then spoke. "I never really thought what a hole it would leave in me, when Gorion died... He was an old man and I was going to leave home anyway...I never even expected I'd be at his funeral. That sounds bad, I know. But you just don't think about things like that until they're staring you in the face."

Anna glanced up at him. Finn's eyes were cast down, examining the floor tiles in great detail. She reached out and caressed his arm.

"You thought what any young person does. We all live forever. But you loved your father, too. I don't think you were selfish."

"Maybe not. I just wish I could quit feeling like I was."

Anna smiled and tried her best to dry her eyes. Finn drew her into a tight embrace and she gladly lost herself in his arms. Silently she thanked the gods that he was still there, and so was she.

"Why don't we go home," he said into her hair. "We can just put our feet up in front of the fire and have a strong cup of wine. And later we can go out to the White Horse and have ourselves a good roast supper. We'll just sit back and shoot the breeze and listen to the bards. What do you say?"

"That sounds wonderful," she said with a deep sigh.

...

Finn gave her a kiss, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed a figure approaching up the aisle. Anna turned, expecting to see a cleric, but she stiffened at the sight of a robed figure. A hood shrouded his eyes and a thick muffler covered his face.

"I beg your pardon," he said in a quiet, rough voice. "But I do wish to speak with you."

"Do you?" Finn said, not releasing Anna from his grasp.

"Yes. Please. You did not respond to my note, and by chance I thought to seek you here. Fortune has been on my side, for once."

"Fortune, aye, but not common decency," Finn growled. "We've just been seeing to a dead friend. What the hells do you want?"

The figure seemed startled by Finn's response but he drew himself up straight.

"I am aware, and it pains me. Please know that I would never normally seek to do such a thing, but circumstances are warranted."

Anna looked at the man hard. In spite of his heavy clothes and disguised voice she thought there was something familiar in his manner.

"Please, I ask that you come with me. It would take little of your time, and it is of the utmost importance that we speak."

"So you say. But we're not moving an inch unless you tell us who you are and what you want," Finn repeated.

The shoulders within the robe hunched and the man looked around furtively. No one was in sight, and as he slowly drew down his muffler Anna's mouth opened in surprise.

"Please, we have met before," Duke Silvershield said. "I have very little time. I do entreat you to accompany me."

Finn straightened up and he seemed surprised as Anna.

"Alright then," he agreed. "Lead the way."

"No, we cannot be seen together," the Duke said. "I have taken enough risks as it is. There is a tavern near the Lady's House called the Wishing Well. Do you know of it?"

"Aye," Finn said.

"Good. A servant of mine has procured for me a room in that place. Upstairs, the fourth door on the left. Knock thrice and I will answer. Follow behind me, please, but not too close."

Duke Silvershield didn't wait for an answer. He drew up his muffler and made a quick bow then retreated from the temple. Anna and Finn watched him go, then turned to each other with blank faces.

"We just can't get a break, can we?" Finn said.

"What could the Duke possibly want?" she whispered.

His words of caution came to her and she glanced around, wary of watching eyes. Finn groaned and shook his head.

"Hells if I know. But I don't think we can brush him off this time. We'll give it a minute and set off after him."

"Do I look alright?" Anna asked as they slowly walked towards the doors.

"You look beautiful, like always," Finn said. "Even if your nose does look a bit like a radish."

She tried and failed to give him a dirty look when faced with his smile. The Lady's House was near the westerly walls but they still took their time on the way. The congestion in Anna's head had turned into a headache and she wondered again what the Duke could possibly want with them. More intrigue, no doubt, but she wasn't keen to hear it.

...

They found the Wishing Well easily enough; it was a sprawling but respectable looking place with a large common room. No one seemed to notice as they flitted up the stairs and knocked three times on the Duke's door as bidden. The portal opened a crack then Duke Silvershield ushered them inside.

"At last. I do wish to thank you for keeping this meeting. I know it is a most inopportune time."

He bolted the door carefully behind him and went nervously to a side table, where he offered them wine. Anna accepted a goblet but Finn shook his head.

"None for me, thank you. But if you wouldn't mind telling us what this is about?"

"Of course," the Duke said. "I am sorry to be so mysterious, but I did not want to risk my letter falling into the wrong hands."

"We understand, your grace. Do you think you are being watched?" Anna asked.

"We always watched, my good lady. It is the nature of our position. But there is no need for such formality here. You may address me as Lord Silvershield."

"Thank you, sir," Finn said with a fidget.

"Of course. I served as an officer in the Flaming Fist myself for many years. That is how Duke Eltan and I first came to be friends. I still have a fondness for the uniform—but I shall come to the point."

The Duke paced nervously as he spoke, his handsome face bearing the weight of concern. He peered out the closed curtains and turned to them once more.

"You know better than most of the difficulties surrounding Eltan," he said quietly. "But while the others are satisfied with his recovery, I am not. Caruthar has been a dear friend of mine for nigh on twenty years, and I can tell when something is amiss."

"What sort of things are wrong, my lord?" Anna asked.

"That is difficult to explain," he sighed. "By all intents he seems as he should. He certainly is more well than when he lay on his bed close to death. But there is something in his manner...a coldness I do not fathom. And he is utterly insistent on pursuing a war with Amn! We have tried to dissuade him, but he is Grand Duke and will not be overruled. Not that there is no evidence that Amn was behind these events—there is much that I cannot tell you. But even so, such a thing is not to be taken lightly. Many lives hang in the balance, not least our own."

"Hasn't he been examined by the palace enchanters?" Finn asked. "If he were still charmed they would be able to tell."

"You are quite right. And he has. The enchanters have found no hint of magical manipulation," Duke Silvershield said, but there was a dryness in his tone.

"Yet you sound unsure," Anna remarked.

"It is only a feeling, my good lady, an instinct if you will. So much has been unsettled of late...first this iron plague and the bandit attacks, then the intrigues with the Iron Throne and Amn...one could be forgiven for seeing enemies in all places. But by my honour, I know something is wrong. I cannot fathom how quickly he drew Sarevok Anchev to his breast. If nothing else he should at least be wary—he was Rieltar Anchev's son, and we have little true cause to trust him."

"What have you got against him?" Finn said quickly.

"Sarevok? Very little," the Duke said. "By all appearances he is entirely innocent in this affair. Indeed, the letters Dosan wrote expressed a concern that he was becoming wise to their plans. A more clean-smelling man you could not hope to find. The other Dukes seem likewise convinced, but I am not."

Finn groaned a little and rubbed his eyes.

"But what exactly do you want us to do, sir? If Captain Dessander had any cause to arrest Anchev he'd have done it ages ago."

"Quite, but if it were that simple then we would have no difficulties. No, I wish for something more subtle. I am to understand that you have had dealings with Anchev in the past?" Silvershield asked.

"Yes, my lord," Anna said.

"Then I would ask you to continue them. Draw closer to him. See what sort of a man he is. If we can root up any source of trouble then so much the better. I for my part will keep close watch on Eltan. He is the key in all this, I am certain. Would you be willing to do such a thing for me?"

He stood firm and looked them both in the eye. Finn and Anna glanced at each other, then Finn slowly nodded.

"I reckon we would, sir, if that's what it comes down to. But one question—why us? Why should you trust us any more than Anchev?"

"Because I must trust someone, Lieutenant, and my list of allies has grown shorter. I know Captain Merion took you under his wing and that alone is recommendation for me. Besides, you did not even claim the reward my fellows arranged for you. Gold is clearly not in your interest, which makes you less susceptible to bribery. Do we have a bargain?"

"Aye," Finn sighed, and shook the Duke's outstretched hand. "We'll do what we can."

"Excellent," he said. "Of course this affair must be treated with the strictest confidence. Other than our meetings at the palace we are as strangers to one another. If you need to speak with me, send a note to my estate about arranging a hunting trip, under an assumed name of course. I will be in contact with you."

"Sure thing," Finn said. He still sounded almost dazed. "Is there anything else, sir?"

"Yes...there is one other thing," the Duke said. He began his slow pacing again and looked down to the rug. "I understand you have recently become acquainted with my daughter, is that correct?"

"Yes, my lord," Anna said, feeling somewhat taken aback by the question.

"You seem surprised," Silvershield replied with a little smile. "But I am not so ignorant of my daughter's affairs as she would like to believe. Skie is my only child, you understand. I married later in life and her precious mother died not long after she was born. Skie is more valuable to me than you can imagine, and as such I have over-indulged her at times. Perhaps I have turned my eye too much. But one thing I will not tolerate are those who seek to take advantage of her generous nature."

"My lord, we have never—" Anna began.

The Duke held out a hand. "I did not mean to implicate you. But you must be aware of the more unsavoury people she has surrounded herself with. All these...artists and actors. Shorthand for criminals, if you wish my opinion. I tolerated her quest to rebuild that wreck of a theatre because it seemed so dear to her. But I have been made aware that she is once again involved with that rogue, Kron. Is this true?"

The Duke looked her directly in the eye and Anna felt herself on the spot. Her mouth opened and she hesitated. She felt some sense of what Skie called 'feminine solidarity' but she could not lie to him.

"Yes, my lord, as far as we know," she replied.

"Very well. And I thank you for telling me the truth," Silvershield said. "I shall be certain to put a stop to it at once. Skie refuses to listen but I know the true reason that filth was driven from Waterdeep—he attempted to seduce a daughter of a lord of the city, to trick her into a clandestine marriage in order to acquire her wealth. I shall make certain he feels a similar urge to flee Baldur's Gate, and soon."

Anna nodded but said nothing. Though she could hardly disagree with the Duke's conclusions a part of her felt strangely guilty, like she'd shared a schoolgirl secret.

"But I must be away," he said. "No doubt the palace will be missing me already. I understand that we are in complete agreement?"

"Yes, sir," Finn said.

"That is good to hear. Please feel free to remain here while you finish your wine. My servant will return later to claim the room. Good afternoon to you."

Duke Silvershield re-wrapped himself in his muffler and hood and slipped out into the hallway. When he left Finn let out a heavy groan and collapsed into a chair.

"Why us?" he said. "Isn't there any other poor bastard in this city with legs? Pass me that bottle, Anna, I could use a drink."

Anna sighed and did as he asked, thinking there wasn't enough wine in the world to rid themselves of that headache.


	93. Papering Over the Cracks

_I finally have something to post, hooray! Sorry about the gap. I'm afraid my updating might be a little irregular from now on, but I haven't forgotten it. Just bear with me and this story will be finished some day, I swear!_

_..._

"So how are we meant to go about this?" Anna asked.

She wandered the floor of the Duke's room while Finn examined his wine thoughtfully.

"Sarevok said he wanted to see us again. I reckon we could make a date pretty easy. He always has seemed a bit overly-keen on us," he replied.

The idea didn't seem to fill him with delight. Anna stopped her pacing and sat in a chair next to him.

"We should talk to the others first, see what they think."

"I can't imagine it would be anything good. Besides—the Duke came to us. I don't know what extra help they could give."

"But all we're in this together," Anna said.

"Are we?" Finn remarked. "Don't know. Maybe you're right. We always seem to get thrown together no matter what."

"Why, do you not want them to be?"

Although Finn had a rather tense history with their companions the idea still surprised her. He shook his head a little.

"I don't mean that. With all those hunters after me I'd be long dead if it weren't for their help. And they're all decent folks. But—I'm just wondering if it isn't time for us to make a break. Khalid and Jaheira are bound to be on their way sometime—they're Harpers first, even after all this nonsense. Xan's got his affairs to see to, or he'll be sent home on a stretcher. Either way, he's gone. Kivan only stayed with us out of loyalty and I know he's itching to get back home. And Ajantis... There's just not much left but you and me."

He reached out and squeezed her arm. Anna felt stilled by his conclusions; they made perfect sense but she still wanted to deny them.

"But we're still all friends. And what about Imoen? We don't know what's happening at Candlekeep. We still need them, Finn. We'd be lost without them."

"I'd be lost without you," he replied.

He caressed her shoulder and she gave him a little smile.

"I feel the same," she said, squeezing his hand. "But we haven't come this far to quit now. Whatever we need to do, we'll do it."

"There's my girl," he said, and a little answering smile drifted over his face. "But I can't help and notice there's a nice-looking bed here. Maybe we could take advantage of the Duke's hospitality before we go?"

"You aren't serious," she said, letting out a laugh.

"Only by half. But I think I might slip this bottle of wine under me cloak on the way out—not a bad drop, really."

Finn gave her a naughty look and Anna couldn't help laughing again. They wrapped themselves against the cold and slipped out of the room, minus the bottle of wine. Anna clenched her wool-covered hand around Finn's as they walked.

"We should stop in to the Golden Hind, though," she remarked. "We need to see how Xan is doing."

"Aye. And we should tell them about Imoen's letter. Maybe they could give a bit of advice. I'm in the dark myself," Finn said.

Anna grinned a little in spite of the statement and he looked at her warmly.

"It's good to see you smiling again," he said.

"Well. I don't suppose there's much we can do now," she replied. "The past can trap you like muck, and the future feels like a landslide waiting to happen. Now...I just want to try and be happy."

Finn seemed a bit surprised by her response but he smiled in return.

"I feel the same way. If I can wake up next to you, I'm happy. Anything else, we just have to deal with it as it comes."

Anna's smile widened and they drew closer to each other. The bright sun made even the grey city look inviting that day. She drew a deep, quivering breath and slowly let it out again. She thought of the little flower-topped weeds that grew up between the cracks in the cobblestones—how tenuous was their existence, kicked and trodden upon, but they still held on and they still thrived. Their life had been something like that, clinging to the cracks for a bit of sun. Like the little weeds she was learning they could only feel thankful for the times when the light caressed them.

...

The walk wasn't a long one and they soon found themselves at Xan's chamber door. Finn knocked and the door opened, but Anna was somewhat surprised by who answered it.

"Yes?" the elven woman said.

Anna tried to give her a smile of recognition, but the look on Luedre's face was not a welcoming one. Finn cleared his throat.

"Afternoon. We just wanted to stop in and see how Xan is getting on."

"Lord Xan is not well," she replied, and Anna thought she placed some emphasis on _lord. _"He is resting in his chamber."

"Ah. What about the others, then? Are Khalid and Jaheira here?" Finn asked.

"I do not know where the Harpers are. Kivan is now keeping watch over Lord Xan," she said.

If they'd come asking for coin the woman's reaction to them could not have been more frosty. Her face looked almost luminous in the light from the window but Anna could see no warmth in her eyes. Their liquid blue looked cold as the frost outside. Finn however seemed to take her manner as a challenge.

"Well, we wouldn't mind having a word with Kivan. Mind if we come in?"

Luedre's lips twitched but she consented for them to enter. Despite the bright fire burning in the grate the room was surprisingly cold. A breeze rustled the curtains and Anna could see the windows were open.

"I shall see if Kivan is willing to speak with you," she said, and disappeared into Xan's chamber. Finn threw her a dirty look as she passed.

"Damn. And I thought Xan was snooty," he muttered.

"She's not exactly welcoming, is she?" Anna remarked.

They stood waiting in the cold room until Kivan appeared. Luedre remained in Xan's chamber and he shut the door behind him.

_"Vedui," _he said in quiet greeting.

Anna studied his motionless face. It seemed less grim than before but there was a certain sadness in it.

"Hey, mate," Finn said. "How is he?"

"Still poor, but he is speaking," Kivan replied. "He seems to be more aware of his surroundings, though he drifts in between the past and the present. I believe the presence of his old friend is doing him well."

Anna's cheeks coloured slightly and she looked at the rug rather guiltily. More than a friend, if Xan's lost words were anything to go by.

"Where are Khalid and Jaheira?" Finn asked.

"Out in the city, I do not know where. They said they would return before sundown."

"We've had some news," Anna said. "A letter from Imoen. There seems to be some danger at Candlekeep."

Kivan looked concerned. "Are they under attack?"

"We don't know," Finn sighed. "She wrote the letter in an old code we used to do when we were kids. All she really said was for us to come and help her."

"That is most worrying. I would have thought Candlekeep to be secure. It is one of the stone fortresses of men, is it not?"

"I'd have thought so, but even Candlekeep's not impregnable. We need to find some way of getting there, and soon."

Kivan looked thoughtful, but whatever was on his mind he didn't speak it. Anna clutched her cloak to her body and shivered.

"Gods, it's freezing in here. Why are the windows open?"

"Luedre prefers the open air. I find it much more agreeable myself than this shut-in room," the elf said.

"To each their own," Finn remarked. "You want to have a drink in the common room? Maybe the others will come back before long."

"I would take wine, thank you," Kivan said. "Luedre will tend to Xan for now."

He slipped into the bedchamber then slipped back out again. Anna thankfully made her way down the stairs and chose a table as close to the fire as she could. The common room was empty save for themselves, and it was some minutes before a lad noticed them and brought their drinks.

"I wonder how this inn stays in business," she said. "There never seems to be anyone here."

"Most of the patrons depart in the morning and return late in the day," Kivan responded. "They are merchants, I believe."

Anna shrugged and sipped her spiced wine. Kivan sat upright in his chair and clutched at the handle of his goblet as though he expected it to try and flee. Finn took a swallow from his pewter tankard and let out a sigh.

"We went to see Ajantis today," he said.

Kivan nodded slowly. "That is good. I said prayers over him last evening. The priests said they intended to complete his rite when his keepers arrived."

"Who is that?" Anna asked.

"I do not know. It is a sad business, and no fitting end for a warrior," he said.

"He never even had a fighting chance," Finn remarked. "All I can do is thank the gods that bastard Dosan is dead."

"I should like to have seen his punishment carried through myself," the elf growled.

"Or been the one doing it," he agreed.

Anna didn't reply. A part of her felt as they did, but somewhere her heart still shivered at the idea. She reached for anything to change the subject.

"When did Luedre arrive?" she asked.

"Yesterday afternoon, not long after you departed," Kivan said. "She was much disturbed to find Xan in his condition."

"I'd imagine. Wonder if that would explain her attitude," Finn said.

"What do you mean?" the ranger asked.

"Let's just say if looks could have frozen us, me and Anna would be permanently frosted to the step. She didn't exactly seem keen to have us here."

Kivan sighed a little. "It has been difficult for her. She and Lord Xan are comrades-in-arms. But I would not let it trouble you. Luedre seems a good woman, and she has barely left his side since she returned."

Anna took a swallow of wine and said nothing. Whatever the relationship between them it was hardly any of her business. Thankfully Finn let the subject drop too, lost as he was in other things.

...

Kivan finished his wine and excused himself back upstairs. Anna's body felt heavy and neither she nor Finn mentioned leaving. The fire crackled slowly lower but by fortune the inn door drew open, and a pair of familiar hoods stepped inside. Finn waved to them and Khalid and Jaheira approached the table.

"Good afternoon," the druid said. "Have you been waiting on us?"

"We were," Finn replied, pulling out a pair of chairs. "We got a bit of bad news to share."

The Harpers sat down and Finn related the story of Imoen's note. The pair looked at each other in concern and Jaheira rubbed her brow.

"Silvanus, of all the things we did not need...what sort of danger could it be? Assassins?"

"P-perhaps agents from Amn?" Khalid offered. "We d-do not know what the Amnish might be p-plotting."

"I don't know," Finn groaned. "If it were that close it doesn't seem that she'd be able to get out a note. But she'd worried about something, all right. Just like her to keep a bit of mystery about the whole thing."

"And you cannot leave the city," Jaheira said. "Khalid and I have no mission at the present. Perhaps we might go?"

"No mission, but we d-don't know when Dermin might seek us," Khalid remarked.

Jaheira bit her lip at the mention and Finn shook his head.

"It's good of you to offer, but I don't know if they'd even let you in the gates. Candlekeep is pretty strict about who they let in, you know."

There was silence at the table. The monastery might as well have been a thousand miles away, and there were no answers. The silence wore on Anna and she spoke.

"Where have you been?" she asked the pair.

"Only attending errands. I have never been one for fatalism, but there seems nothing to do now but wait on the inevitable," Jaheira said bitterly.

"Do not l-lose hope, my love," Khalid replied.

"Well, there is something else," Finn hesitated.

He quietly related their meeting with the Duke to the wide eyes that faced them across the table.

"And what does this mean?" Jaheira said, almost to herself.

"Don't know. But like you said, there isn't much to do now but play along," Finn replied. "I've got to be back on duty in a few days' time. Not much I can do about that."

"No, but I...come, my husband. There is perhaps one more errand we should run today."

Khalid looked at her in surprise but he slowly rose up from the table. Almost as an afterthought the druid pulled a small jug from a bag on her belt, and passed it to Anna.

"We must go out. Would you give this to Kivan? It is elderberry tonic. Xan seems to be developing something of a fever, and that his companion insists on leaving the windows open can hardly help," she said dryly.

Anna took the jug but she felt somewhat alarmed at her words.

"I thought Kivan said he was improving?"

"He is," Jaheira sighed. "Do not be concerned. But I would rather head off any fresh problems before they begin."

They said farewell and Khalid and Jaheira swiftly left the inn, with no word as to where they were headed. Anna squeezed the jug in her hands tight.

"Well, we should deliver this," she said.

"You go on then," Finn replied. "I'll wait for you here."

Anna's mouth twisted as he gallantly freed himself from another visit to the frosty woman, but she made her way up the stairs and knocked on Xan's door. Kivan responded and she made a quick explanation.

"You might offer it to Luedre," he said. "She may appreciate such a thing."

Anna had no interest whatsoever in stepping into that room, but her messenger duties needed to be fulfilled. She rapped curtly on the bedchamber door. An Elvish voice came through the frame and she let herself in.

...

The bedchamber was no warmer than the sitting room and Anna shivered at the breeze. Xan sat cross-legged on the bed, alertly staring at nothing as he had been. He wore nothing more than a thin, loose tunic and trousers and his Moonblade lay on the bed next to him. Luedre sat in front of him but she turned on Anna's entry.

"What do you want?" she asked rather sharply.

"I brought some elderberry tonic for Xan," she replied, holding out the little jug as proof for her intrusion. "Jaheira thought he could use some."

Luedre made a slight noise. "The _peredhil _healer is very keen. You may leave it on the side-table."

"Jaheira has worked her fingers raw to help Xan, and not for the first time," Anna replied, suddenly feeling defensive.

"I am certain she has. But she does not truly understand elven healing, and she is unable to give Lord Xan the care he needs now. Her many interventions are not helpful."

Anna folded her arms and gave the woman an indignant look, which she entirely ignored.

"Jaheira is hardly ignorant of elven healing methods—her blood is part elven."

The words slipped out and Anna felt a little embarrassed by them, but she raised her head and fixed her with a gaze. Besides a twitch of her lip Luedre still showed little interest.

"Her blood?" she began, but shook her head. "The druid cannot enter into a state of communion. She cannot share his reveries. Xan does not need a bandage, he needs the healing of his people. Now if you would excuse me, I would prefer to tend to him."

Anna bit down on her lip to resist the impulse to say a rude word. She could hardly believe the nerve of that woman—even Xan in his worst flights of elven superiority never spoke that way. Luedre brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes, and his vacant gaze followed her hand.

"And Xan doesn't like the cold, he always complains about it," Anna muttered.

Luedre threw her a sharp glance but said nothing else. Anna turned on her heel and departed the room, valiantly resisting the urge to slam the door behind her.

"Are you well, _mellonamin?" _Kivan asked her. "Your face seems quite red."

Anna flushed deeper, but she tossed her head.

"I'm fine. It's just..very cold in there. I'm going to find Finn."

Kivan looked at her in surprise as she virtually stamped out of the room. Anna still felt that anger bubbling as she hurried down the stairs but she tried to drive it away. Luedre was not the first elf with a poor attitude she'd met in her life—the comments of one Silverymoon mage in particular still caused her to seethe all those years later. There was nothing to do but let it go.

...

She rejoined Finn and they left the tavern. After all the drama of the morning it seemed a hollow end to the day somehow. They walked slowly back through the streets which were still busy despite the cold. The angle of the sun gave the light a harsher feel than it had that morning, drawing out every bit of refuse that littered the cobbles in fine detail. Finn was silent as Anna but he suddenly spoke.

"We never did get your necklace back. Maybe we could drop into the Iron Throne, see if Anchev is around?"

The thought startled her but it seemed a convenient excuse as any. They changed course and followed the winding streets to the district where the Iron Throne compound sat like a hulking giant amongst the warehouses and shops. Finn approached a guard at the gate and spoke in a friendly way.

"Afternoon, me lad. Any chance that Anchev is at home? We're mates of his."

The claim seemed a grand one and Anna expected a dismissal but surprisingly the guard waved them through.

"Go on and talk with Master Treldare if you've got business," he said. "He's Anchev's secretary."

The guard let them through the small portal in the big gate and they scooted through the courtyard lest he change his mind. A number of carriages stood waiting under the stable shelter by the wall and a pair of merchants stood on the step, engaged in a conversation about futures and forecasts that made little sense to Anna's ears.

"It's a trading house, after all," Finn said under his breath. Clearly Sarevok hadn't let his father's death get in the way of business.

They stepped past the merchants and another guard who looked them over but said nothing. Anna expected the entrance hall to be busy with the comings and goings of commerce, but surprisingly it seemed deserted. Their steps made staccato tones on the marble tiles and the suits of armour that lined the hall looked down on them, watching and wary. Anna and Finn came to a stop in the middle of the great room, wondering where to go next.

"Ah, it is my old friends. I hope this day finds you well?"

Anna nearly jumped out of her skin as a voice spoke behind them. A grey-bearded man stepped up to them from nowhere, his footfalls nearly silent on the floor. A pleasant, mellow smile covered his face and he offered Finn his hand.

_"Ah_, right," he said, clearly startled by his appearance. "You're...alright, too?"

"Well as can be expected," the man smiled. "But forgive me. I recognised you, but perhaps you do not remember me. We only met for a short while."

Anna did recognise him but she was still surprised at his presence. Perthwaite the healer, the one Edmund Jhasso has accused of manipulating his father before everything fell apart.

"I remember you," Finn said. "But what brings you here, if I can ask? You said before you weren't working for the Anchevs."

"That is true, but Sarevok Anchev heard of my reputation and he has enlisted my services. A number of his servants were made greatly distraught by the terrible events that occurred here, and he brought me in to do what I could. There are not many men in his position who would care so much about the welfare of his hirelings, I must say."

"We heard he's a great one for charity, aye," Finn replied, though his response was somewhat dry.

"Though I suppose I can ask of you the same question," Perthwaite remarked. "What brings you to the Iron Throne? Forgive me, but I heard you played some...role in those events, though I do not rely on gossip."

"It's...true, I'm afraid," Anna said, feeling her cheeks growing hot.

_"Ah," _he replied with a cough. "Regardless, if the Flaming Fist have exonerated you then that is good enough for me. And Rieltar Anchev was not well known for his compassion. His own criminal activities are now freely aired in public for all to see."

"That they are," Finn said. "But do you know if Sarevok is here now? We came to see him."

"Yes, I believe he is. He was in a meeting with several business associates but that must be nearly done. I must speak with him myself, but I have other servants to see to first. Shall I find his secretary for you, to let him know you've arrived?"

"That is very kind of you," Anna murmured.

"Not at all—this compound can seem a maze, and I confess to growing rather lost here myself. There is a small parlour at the end of the hall, you could wait there in the meantime," the healer said.

He held out one plain-robed arm and gestured to a door at the far end of the room. Anna and Finn thanked him, and the healer bowed politely and went on his way.

"He seems awful comfortable about the place," Finn remarked as they entered the empty parlour.

"I suppose so," Anna sighed, plopping herself down on a tapestry-covered chair. "But it's a relief to occasionally meet someone with manners."

"Can't argue with that," he replied. "Though lately _manners_ tends to mean 'not trying to kill us'."

...

Anna gave him a slight smile and watched as he continued pacing the rug. The parlour was pleasantly warm but almost painfully opulent, the same as the rest of the compound. A remarkable fresco covered the length of the ceiling and Anna couldn't take her eyes from it. Marble maidens with delicate smiles stood in the corners, holding out gilded cornucopias as an offering of bounty. The small parlour felt more like the antechamber of a king than a waiting area for merchants, but Rieltar had clearly desired to impress.

The fire crackled as the minutes ebbed by. Neither Finn nor Anna made a move to help themselves to the well-appointed bar, in spite of the allure of foreign liquors and elaborate cakes. Anna began to feel certain they were forgotten when at last the door drew open.

Sarevok Anchev himself stepped in, and the top of his cap nearly grazed the doorway. He smiled and bowed to them.

"Good afternoon. I was very pleased to hear you'd stopped in. I am sorry for keeping you waiting, however—business must be seen to."

"We understand," Anna replied.

She let Sarevok place a kiss on her hand, and she noticed a black band of mourning tied around his right arm. He then offered his hand to Finn, who took it reluctantly.

"We were just around, and wondered if you'd had any luck getting Anna's necklace back," he blurted out.

Sarevok smiled. "I had a thought you might come asking for that. And as it happens..."

He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a soft silver chain. Anna gasped with relief and gladly took the amulet he offered her.

"Thank you so much for this," she beamed, while securing the chain around her neck again. "It was my mother's, you see—it means a great deal to me."

"Then all the more remarkable you were willing to part with it," Sarevok replied. "I admire that. But it was no trouble at all."

Anna turned a bit red under his look and Finn cleared his throat.

"Right. Cheers, then. But we ought to..."

His words floundered and he mumbled something about moving on. Clearly Finn was less up to the Duke's assigned task than usual. Without thinking Anna suddenly spoke.

"We do thank you. Perhaps you'd like to join us for a drink? A...reward, of sorts."

Anna was little better at espionage than her husband, it would seem, and her cheeks coloured again. Sarevok cocked his head slightly but another smile drifted over his face.

"I should be most honoured," he replied. "I have no formal plans for dinner this night, and perhaps you would like to join me. Good company is its own reward."

Anna murmured a consent and she could almost feel Finn's eyes heating up the back of her neck. Sarevok for his part looked greatly pleased.

"Excellent! I shall have the cook lay on a fine little feast for us. I will sent my driver around to you at the eighth hour, if that is acceptable—unfortunately I still have business to attend this afternoon."

"That'd be fine," Finn said, a bit too loudly.

"Very good. Until then?" Anchev replied.

He escorted them to the compound doors, and Anna began wandering towards home in a daze. Finn's footfalls were so heavy though she wondered if he were angry at her.

"I'm sorry—it seemed like a good way," she said feebly.

"I know," he groaned. "You're right. But dinner at Anchev's! Don't reckon you've got a spare bit of unicorn horn to dip in things, do you? He'll have his cook coat the lot of it in poison."

"Then he would need to be careful himself," Anna replied. "I'm not looking forward to this either, but what would he possibly do? I just wonder what in the world we are going to talk about. It won't be the easiest dinner conversation I've ever made in my life."

"Don't know. Best to sharpen up on my table talk as well," Finn said gruffly.

...

They spoke little on the way home. Anna bathed and changed into her blue velvet dress but Finn made little motion to improve his appearance. The empty hours of waiting rolled by until finally they heard the temple bells counting eight times. Anna drew on her mantle and they made their way downstairs into the frosty night. Anchev's carriage was waiting as promised, and the driver swiftly bore them back to the Iron Throne.

The torch lit courtyard was empty, and the merchants must have made their way home for the evening. The driver helped them from the carriage and a manservant awaited them on the steps.

"Good evening," the man said with a bow. "Please, allow me to escort you to the master."

The words had a subtly ominous ring to them but Anna and Finn dutifully followed the man up the wide staircase and down the hall. The servant rapped stiffly on a chamber door then ushered them inside.

Richly carved panelling decorated the walls and the room was rather dark, with only the fireplace and a few candles for lighting. Sarevok rose from his chair and dismissed his servant.

"And here we all are," he said cheerfully. "Might I offer you port?"

Anna nodded and tried to smile, but it stayed tacked on too long to seem natural. Cythandria lounged on a sofa and made no move to rise at the guests' entrance.

"Yes, good evening, dear ones," she said in a tone much less formal than their last meeting. "Please, do sit next to me, Anna. That is such a lovely gown you're wearing. Is it Madame Beryl's work?"

"No, a different dressmaker," she replied.

Whoever Madame Beryl was she had no knowledge, and she assumed her work would cost more than Anna's pockets could stretch. And no fashionable lady would have failed to notice that the dress was plainly an afternoon gown, not one for evening. She wondered if Lady Cythandria had paid her a backhanded compliment or was simply trying to be polite. Looking at the gloriously embroidered silken attire that draped over the sofa Anna couldn't help but feel it was the former.

"I hope you do not mind if I call you Anna?" she continued. "I feel as if we know each other too well for Mistress Whitehaven, or Lady Delainis if you prefer the title."

Anna took the glass of port Sarevok offered and stumbled slightly over her answer.

"No, of course not. I always prefer to be informal."

"As do we all," Sarevok said, slipping down into a carved armchair. "It adds a degree of staleness to everything. We are all friends here, are we not? After all we know each others' secrets—or part of them, I should imagine."

He laughed and Cythandria laughed with him. The words were meant to sound friendly but Anna felt there was something unpleasant hiding there.

"I get the feeling there's more secrets hiding in this city than we'll ever know," Finn remarked.

"Too right you are," Anchev replied. "But let us have none here tonight. I'm curious, has your captain spoken to you about promotion?"

"Not a word," he said dryly.

"That is a pity. I was certain you'd have made captain over this business. But perhaps he has other things on his mind."

"You might say that," Finn said, examining his glass in detail.

"Has your father been laid to rest?" Anna asked before Sarevok could reply.

He seemed almost startled at the question and his mouth hung slightly open. She wondered how tasteful it was to ask, but she noted that black band once more draped around his fine evening suit. Sarevok drew a sip of port and nodded slowly.

"Yes. Given all that transpired I did not think a public period of visitation was in order. My father had little interest in temples in his life and followed no church that I knew of. With perhaps a deliberate touch of irony I entrusted his remains to the clerics of Tyr, that they might deal with him justly."

"Are you a member of his temple?" she asked.

Sarevok smiled slightly. "No, my lady. I keep my worship closer to home."

Anna had little time to wonder over the statement as a knock sounded on the door. A servant entered, and bowing told them the table was laid for dinner.

"Excellent! I am rather hungry this night," Sarevok said, rising. "So buried was I in papers this afternoon I had little time for more than a bite of ham and bread. My father burdens me even from the grave, it would seem. But enough of that dark talk. If you would come through?"

...

He took Cythandria's hand and helped her rise from the sofa, voluminous silk and all. Finn took Anna's hand somewhat less gallantly and they made their way into the dining room in silence. A long, heavy oak table graced the centre of the room, covered in centrepieces of towering fruit that would put a greengrocer to shame. Pomegranates, grapes, oranges, and strange long, yellow fruits that Anna never had the nerve to enquire about graced the frames in delicate layers. A servant materialised from the darkness of the corner and silently drew out their chairs.

"Only a light service tonight," Sarevok said. "I hope you don't feel slighted. I wished to keep this an intimate affair."

"We'll manage," Finn said as Anchev rang a bell. Anna did her best but she struggled to keep up with the vast array of food set before her. They started with a cinnamon soup to warm the stomach, followed by braised turnips, meat pasties and a stew of eels. Venison with chestnuts, roasted quail and more vegetable pottages followed, plus poached river fish besides.

The servants kept their goblets topped with wine and Anna began to feel sleepy with the weight of it all as her bodice grew uncomfortably tight. Even Finn with his eternally hearty appetite appeared to struggle after awhile, but Sarevok and Cythandria languidly made their way through the feast as though it were a simple task. Anna supposed they were used to a bit more than pottage for their evening meals.

...

"Fine as always," Sarevok said in satisfaction as he took a bite of apple tart. Cythandria took up the last of her pancake drizzled in honey and nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Father always has threatened to poach your cook from you. Ours has become hopelessly shiftless of late but there are simply no suitable replacements in the city."

"He is welcome to try! Hiring him was my father's one wise act. We brought him with us from Sembia, you see."

"I thought there were some unusual seasonings," Anna remarked, trying to revive herself.

Sarevok smiled at her. "We deal in spices, good Anna. Much powdered gold lies in sacks and barrels in our storehouses."

"That must be a boon," she replied somewhat ruefully. "All that's in our cupboard now is salt and a husk of nutmeg."

"I forget you live in rather—cramped conditions. It would be my honour to present you with gifts from our stores before you leave," he said generously.

"Oh, but I didn't mean—"

"I know you did not," Sarevok said, waving his hand. "As I said, it would be my honour."

"Thank you, then," she said, her face turning a bit red.

"It is one's duty to provide charity to those in need," Cythandria remarked under her breath, and Anna's face turned even more red.

Sarevok threw his lady a rather sharp look but she only tossed her head.

"Yeah, thank you," Finn spoke. "It's...good of you."

He cleared his throat and reached for his wine goblet. Either the alcohol or something else had coloured his cheeks in crimson as well.

"Not at all, which leads me to another point. If I am to understand correctly, you are an alchemist, are you not?"

He directed his question at Anna and she looked up in some surprise.

"Yes, yes I am. Although I haven't truly worked since I've been in the city."

"I didn't think so," Sarevok continued. "Which is why I raised the subject. You see, we have a great deal of goods passing through our warehouses, and unfortunately few who are qualified to deal with the more specialist wares. One of our workers recently mishandled a shipment of potions with, shall we say, rather _unfortunate _results. I paid off the merchant out of obligation and the poor man's family out of guilt, but I would rather not see it repeated. If it would not inconvenience you, perhaps you would like to provide assistance?"

Anna did stare at him then. Did her ears deceive her, or was Sarevok Anchev offering her employment? She cleared her throat, uncertain of what to say, but Finn suddenly spoke.

_"No," _he said almost vehemently. "No chance."

"I am sorry—" Sarevok began.

"Me too," Finn replied, his colour brightening. "I just meant that my wife's not working for any man. Sorry, that's just the way it is."

Anna looked at him in surprise again and he lowered his eyes to the table. Sarevok leaned back in his chair and regarded them with a kind of amusement.

"Ah, I see. Forgive me, I should have realised you ascribed to a middle-class sentiment. I meant no offence, I can assure you."

Cythandria coughed slightly and Anna fancied she was snickering into her napkin.

"None taken. I just like knowing Anna's home during the day, you know," Finn said.

The stifled laughter came again and Anna knew for certain Cythandria was giggling.

"Of course," Sarevok said with a cough.

...

He rang for the servants to clear away the last remnants of the feast. Anna felt like melting into the floor. She knew, or rather hoped that Finn didn't mean what he said, but his flexing of husbandly authority had left her feeling like a ridiculous, coddled pet. Not that she was entirely ungrateful for his efforts—Anna had no interest at all in working for Anchev, and the idea filled her with a nervous concern. In truth she was shocked he'd even asked.

But then, what choice did she really have? Sarevok had been an animated and charming host throughout the meal, but she'd learned before he was the sort who could say a great deal without saying anything at all. If he were involved in any conspiracies they were no closer to finding them than they were that afternoon. A chance to be within the walls of the Iron Throne on a daily basis was too much to pass on.

"Of course you're right, my dear," she began delicately. "But there isn't a great deal for me to do most days at home. And I couldn't be more safe here than if I was in the house. Master Anchev certainly keeps this place well guarded, and with his father gone there's no more cause for concern. I wouldn't need to work much, just a few days out of ten? And I'd always be home in time to make supper. I could even bring my knitting with me to work in the off hours."

The vision proved too much for Cythandria and she finally let out a clipped but audible laugh. Finn gave Anna a rather baleful look but she returned it with a hopeful glance, and he sighed raggedly.

"I suppose so," he said slowly. "Maybe you're right."

"I shall take that as a sign of patriarchal approval," Sarevok chuckled, and raised his goblet to them. "Never fear, I run a house of the strictest morality. I will guard over Anna as if she were my own dear sister."

"I'll hold you to that," Finn said seriously. "But maybe it's time we were on our way? It's well past midnight."

"Yes, time to rub his chest with camphor oil and put him to bed," Cythandria said merrily.

"What our guests rub onto one another in bed is hardly any of our business," Sarevok reminded her, though plainly reflecting her amusement. "I am just grateful to have secured your approval. Please, come by whenever it is convenient for you. There is always work to be done, and I look forward to seeing you again."

Anna tried to thank their host for the feast and the offer but she heard little of what was said. Someone else was speaking while her own mind ran scattered like a mad spring hare. No mention was made of the fragrant gifts and neither Finn nor Anna mentioned it. Sarevok once again offered them the use of his carriage but Finn declined, and they walked home together through the frosted streets. The night was moonless and seemed unusually black with the dark sheet of sky punctured by the cold light of the stars. Anna grasped his hand and sighed.

"Finn—I'll be alright," she said.

"I know," he groaned. "But I don't have to like it."

She squeezed his hand and drew in a cold breath. Finn exhaled a billowing cloud of mist into the night.

"So—we got any camphor at home?"

The dry statement brought a rasping chortle from Anna's mouth, and thinking of it made her laugh until her sides hurt. Finn joined in and wrapped his arm warmly around her as they slipped through the alleys towards home.

...

_Peredhil- _Half-elf


	94. Trouble at Mill

"Are you really sure about this?" Finn asked.

Anna looked up from the dress she was sponging. Finn lay on his side on the bed with one hand propping up his head. Judging by his expression he certainly wasn't.

"No, but I don't see what else we can do. It's a good opportunity," she replied.

She turned her eyes back to the dress that was spread across the table. Slowly she patted it with the damp sponge, trying to remove the many marks and stains her good frock had acquired since leaving Beregost. The woven indigo ribbon that trimmed the sky-blue wool still shone attractively despite being threadbare. Anna had little time or inclination though to sew on a replacement.

"A little too good if you ask me. There must be a hundred mages in this town looking for work, why'd he ask you?"

"I doubt there's quite that many," she said. "And...I don't know. But the Duke sent us on this mission and I need to do what I can."

"Sod the Duke," Finn barked. "You're not his servant. And I'm not liking this one bit. You're likely to end up like Celia Jhasso. People who get in with the Iron Throne don't seem to come out quite right again."

Anna paused again and her mouth opened slightly. But she swallowed hard and replaced her sponge with the flatiron that had been resting near the coals.

"We don't know what happened to the Jhassos," she said quickly.

"No, and I'm thinking I don't want to find out the hard way," he replied.

She didn't respond. They'd seen nor heard nothing from the Jhasso family since Henerick's funeral and by all accounts they were mourning in private. She still had no way of properly accounting for their behaviour, especially Edmund's, but it was something she didn't care to dwell upon.

"Regardless, we'll just have to see how it goes," Anna said, deliberately focusing her attention on the dress's many wrinkles. "If I've any reason to suspect danger I certainly won't stay."

Finn let out a ragged breath but didn't reply. He glanced up at the window, staring at the block of sunlight that streamed into the little room.

"What will you do today?" she asked.

"Don't know," he said. "Almost thinking I'd rather be back on duty at this rate. I'm already getting a bit stir-crazy here."

Anna sighed and finished pressing her dress. Perhaps he now had some idea of how she'd felt pent up in that room. She drew the still-warm fabric over her shift and woollens then regarded herself in the small, greenish glass while trying to arrange her hair into something resembling order. Her lips were pale and tight and her eyes never had entirely lost those shadows she picked up during her recent illnesses. Somehow she heard Maya's voice in the back of her head, chiding her that she was lucky to already have a husband.

"It's nearly noon, I should go," Anna said with resignation.

"Alright. Just...be careful, okay? People think I'm enough of a bastard now, don't even want to think how bad I'd be if you weren't around."

Finn rose up from the bed and drew her into a tight hug. Anna laughed a little and nuzzled her face in his chest.

"Well, for the sake of public duty I'll make sure to come home in one piece. Hopefully I'll be back by suppertime."

"And I'm sure I'll be rolling around on the floor like a spoiled brat, crying for my tea," he quipped.

His eyes sparkled and she made a little face while squeezing his cheeks.

"Poor lad! I'll see if Sarevok's cook has any scraps I can bring home."

"Them eels were pretty nice. See if he's got a bit more of that hanging about," he said.

"I'm sure there's a fair few slippery things around that place," Anna remarked. "But I'll see you soon."

"Don't you want me to walk you up there?" Finn asked as she drew on her good blue mantle.

"I'll be fine," she smiled, and kissed him goodbye.

As she made her way up to the Iron Throne she began to regret leaving Finn behind, but a part of her wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She was far more nervous about her new employment than she'd been willing to let on. But she'd been right on one thing; there was nothing else they could do.

The rumours of war had become even more insistent since their escape from the Flaming Fist's prison. The market stalls Anna passed were busier than ever, but she knew people were doing their best to fill their pantries before whatever would happen did happen. The shipping channels were still open but she'd heard talk that Amn might try and blockade the mouth of the river Chionthar. Whether it was true or not she preferred not to think about what would happen if the city's trade routes were cut off again.

Announcements calling all able-bodied men to register for militia training littered the streets, and the poor children went about the lanes gathering them up for kindling. The earlier scandal with the Flaming Fist seemed all but forgotten as people's thoughts turned in another direction. That the city had been infiltrated by Amnish spies seemed a common rumour and Anna was surprised at how quickly paranoia seemed to affect the town. She recalled Ajantis saying that rumour was the foulest pestilence, and now she began to understand what he meant.

...

A guard let her through the gates of the Iron Throne without issue. Carriages were lined up in the courtyard once more and the brisk footfalls of merchants echoed unpleasantly around the great hall. No one seemed to pay any attention to Anna's entrance and she stood awkwardly, wondering what to do. By chance she caught sight of a familiar face on the stairs. Anchev seemed to notice her at the same time, and he bade farewell to the men he was speaking with then came down the steps.

"Good afternoon," Sarevok said, placing his usual kiss on her chilly hand. "It's good to see you—I'd begun to fear that Finn had changed his mind."

"Oh, don't worry about him. He's just a bit old-fashioned at times," Anna replied, trying to make an excuse.

"Hm. Tradition is valuable, no doubt, but too much weight on it can lead to stagnation. But no matter. I trust you've come willing to work?"

Sarevok smiled at her and his green eyes seemed friendly. Nervous though she'd been an answering smile slipped out.

"Ready and willing. It would be something of a relief to be honest."

"Excellent!" he replied. "I will show you to the warehouse now, if you like. Trevena is the supervisor on duty. Rather sharp in the tongue but she values competence—I trust you'll have few difficulties with each other."

Anna smiled but she felt her nerves creeping back. She'd never done any work like this, and in truth she wasn't entirely sure what Anchev wanted her to do. But she'd soon find out.

He led her to the back of the compound into another room large as the great hall. Three wide doors stood open to the courtyard beyond and the air was no warmer than the outside in spite of a few braziers. Barrels and crates were so numerous that they nearly filled the floor, and the gaps in between created a series of maze-like pathways around the room. Men in rough clothes rushed about barking and grunting like beasts of burden as they loaded the heavy cargo onto handcarts.

"This is the heart of our little empire, as it were," Sarevok said to her. "Goods move through here at a great pace, ready to ship on to the north and south. In spite of appearances everything is ordered to a military precision—it needs to be, else the place would be in chaos."

"What...exactly is it you do here?" she asked while trying to dodge a cart.

The question seemed rather foolish but she asked just the same. Her own experience in dealing with local farmers and merchants was nothing at all like the scene spread out before her.

"We are merchants to the merchants," he declared. "We invest in whatever we feel might have value then sell it on again, ideally at a higher price. The traders are generally quite happy to deal with us for we offer a guaranteed price and secured shipping to the more far-flung places. Of course there are some who don't truly value our extra contributions, but the reach of our business generally means we can out-price them every time."

A sly smile crept out of the corner of his mouth and Anna was forced to think of the Jhassos. But she knew enough to know that business often resembled open warfare.

"This is the supervisor's office," he continued, ushering her towards a door in the corner. "Don't be concerned, now. Trevena really isn't as bad as she seems."

Anna gritted her teeth and stepped inside. She fairly expected a demon to be waiting there but the rather unassuming-looking woman who glanced up from behind her desk put her more at ease. At least, until she opened her mouth.

"The gods preserve us," she growled. "Master Anchev, I did say the lads were looking out for that shipment. It's not our fault here if some storm has caused a delay. I've got nothing more to say on it, and you can tell the lady that as well. Try the temple of Umberlee if you need a bit of luck—I'm up to my neck in invoices just now."

She glared hard at the pair of them and Anna almost began to feel guilty for their intrusion. Sarevok though merely cleared his throat.

_"Ah_, no Trevena, you misunderstand. This is Anna Whitehaven, the alchemist I spoke to you about earlier."

"Alchemist!" the woman exclaimed, banging her fist against the wood in a distracted manner. "Pardon me, sir, but damned if I didn't forget all about it. The merchants are all up in arms with what's been going on with Amn and I've barely had a moment's peace all day. Wanting shipments diverted... Besides, she don't look much like a mage. Where's your robe, love? That outfit won't last the day in this place."

"It's a bit...worse for wear at the moment," Anna muttered, feeling her cheeks growing red.

"I'm sure we can find something suitable," Sarevok said. "But I shall leave her with you—I have much business of my own to attend. Good afternoon to you both."

He touched his cap to the women and ducked out under the doorframe, abandoning Anna to the grizzly woman.

"It says something of the help we can get nowadays," Trevena muttered to herself. "Can't even show up properly dressed. Never mind. Here, you can take my old smock. Not much to look at but it'll keep the dust of you at least. Now come along and I'll introduce you to the lads."

There was little else for Anna to say. She hung up her cloak and donned the shapeless sackcloth garment that Trevena handed her. It hung down to her knees, making her look like some odd combination of merchant and beggar. Meekly she followed the supervisor out the door and into the melee. Trevena moved deftly through the maze of boxes, barking out a few orders as she went. At last they reached a group of men who were wrestling with a cart.

"Ere lads, listen up," she said, and the men clattered to a halt. "This here is Anna, come to help out with the magic. Set her to work on them crates there."

"Aye, missus," one of the men replied. "It's about time and all. I've no liking to end up like old Roddick—lad had two extra arms growing out o' his chest!"

"No it weren't," another man contradicted. "It were an arm and a foot. And the foot had a bloody ingrown toenail and all, just to add insult."

"That's enough," Trevena said impatiently. "Just see her set to work. And Lester, if I catch you loafing again poor Roddick won't be the only one with a foot stuck somewhere it shouldn't be."

She glared at one fellow in particular and with her threat delivered swept away again through the mass of crates. One of the men made a crude comment about her backside, and they all laughed while Anna stood awkwardly in her big smock.

"Best do as the missus says, I reckon," one of the men said. "Count yourself lucky, pet, that you haven't got a pair for her to stick her boot in. Though I'd imagine she'd come up with something—Trevena's awful creative that way."

He gave Anna a jovial look and the men laughed again, though she couldn't share in the humour. The man hopped down from the cart and led her over to a stack of crates. They sat off to their own and each one had runes burned into the sides.

"This is it," the man said. "They're meant to go on to Tethyr but the shipping account got lost. We don't know entirely what the hells is in here, and after what happened we'd rather not find out. We just need you to have a look through and see if there's ought that needs special handling. We can do the rest."

"Very well," Anna replied. "But how am I meant to..."

She glanced up at the heavy crates which were stacked higher than her head. The man made a face and grumbled to himself.

"Don't reckon you could manage that and all. I'll send Lester over to give you a hand—he'll appreciate that, for certain!"

...

He laughed again and left Anna to herself amongst the crates. Soon one of the men from the cart appeared, his round face looking rather displeased with his duty. Although 'man' was something of a stretch—though he was near the size of an ox Lester looked like he hadn't yet seen eighteen summers.

"Caz says I'm meant to help you," he mumbled to her.

Somehow Anna managed a friendly smile for the lad.

"Yes. Don't worry, I don't think this lot looks as bad as you've believed. Your friend may have spilled a couple potions on himself by accident. But by these runes I don't think there's anything too dangerous—just take care and you'll be fine."

The young man seemed to brighten somewhat and he hefted down one of the top crates with ease. Anna stood back while he pried open the top with a crowbar then set herself to sifting through the straw. Her suspicions proved correct; the potions were of the commonplace sort and hardly looked set to bring the compound to ruin. While she worked though she remembered her true mission.

"This all seems like chaos here to me," she said in a friendly way. "Do you like working here?"

"Aye, miss, most of the time. It's a good steady wage, it is. You just need to be sure and look sharp while the boss's around. I forgot, me, and that's why Trevena's been riding my backside."

He gave her one of the lopsided grins of youth and she found it easy to smile back.

"I suppose it would have been different though when old Master Anchev was around," she offered.

The lad's grin faded. "Too right, miss, he was a scary one and no mistake. But he hardly ever came down this way so we didn't have much to do with him. His son's right keen, though. Always popping into the supervisor's office to check on the ledgers."

"He seems like a decent sort. He gave me this job," Anna said.

"Oh, aye!" Lester said with enthusiasm. "He gave me cousin a job too, just like that. I just happened to mention that she was a maid without a place, and he brought her right on. She's got four kids to feed and her man can't work for much—got his whole hand smashed up working on the docks. Can't hardly lift his right arm these days for nothing. It were just about a year ago now, too. He were down in the hold one day..."

Anna nodded politely as he rambled on, but mentally drowned out much of the fellow's gruesomely elaborated tale.

"It was good of Master Anchev to help," she said. "He's well liked then, I take it?"

"Sure, no one's got a bad word to say about him," Lester declared. "He even gave us all a couple days off with pay after all that..._business _happened."

"You mean...with his father?" she almost whispered.

"Aye," Lester said solemnly. "I heard a gang of mercenaries just broke in here one night, slaughtered the whole lot of 'em. And they got off and all. Ain't that something? Not that anyone's crying tears over the old man, though. I heard he done things that would make a sailor blush. I reckon the younger Master Anchev just wanted folks to like him, to make up for his father and all that."

It seemed the first revelatory thing the young man had to say about Sarevok Anchev, and it proved to be the last. He chatted amiably with Anna but she had little interest in hearing gossip about the various workers in that place. She feigned interest though and tried to steer the conversation back to the target with little success. When the contents of the crates were sorted and logged Lester disappeared for a handcart, leaving her on her own once more.

The men were uncertain as to what else she could do so she picked her way carefully back to the supervisor's office. She was rather surprised however to see Anchev standing by the door.

"There you are!" he said cheerfully. "How has Trevena been treating you?"

"Well enough," Anna replied. "I've hardly seen her. The potions are sorted and I was just looking to see what else she might want me to do."

"Then that's a good job done. But I imagine you're due for a break—why don't you come back upstairs for a time? I was just entertaining the idea of a late lunch myself. Business being what it is these days I have difficulty sticking to set mealtimes."

Anna suddenly felt the exhaustion of her own feet and was glad enough to take him up on his offer. She waited while Sarevok spoke to Trevena, and the supervisor seemed anything but pleased she was quitting work. But Anchev managed to soothe the woman somehow and they escaped from her claws.

"She seems quite...determined," Anna said as they climbed the great stairs.

Sarevok laughed. "That is one way of putting it. I've heard the men use others. But she gets the business done, there is little denying that. One must just be prepared for a few needle-pricks along the way."

He laughed again and his smile seemed infectious. Not for the first time Anna wondered about the man—his moods were almost like the changing face of the moon.

...

Sarevok ushered her into a small parlour. It was light and seemed thankfully less elaborate than most places in the compound. Anna was surprised though to see a man already waiting there.

"Oh, good afternoon," he said, rising to his feet. "I did not realise we were having company—how lovely."

"Yes, Master Perthwaite, I thought I'd bring along this good lady to liven our meal. I hope you don't mind," Sarevok said.

"Mind? Who could mind? Please, my dear, come join us."

Perthwaite spoke in the politest way and gestured for Anna to sit on a sofa. She settled in with a smile but she felt somehow unnerved by the man's presence. She wondered why the old gentleman should bother her—he always seemed mild as a doe. But his friendliness somehow hung in the air around him like a fog.

Sarevok pulled a bell rope and a servant promptly appeared. He issued the luncheon order then took a place next to Anna on the sofa. Taking off his cap he ran a big hand through his hair and groaned.

"Good mercy, it has been a day. But ah, we will want wine! My manners grow worse by the hour."

"Don't trouble yourself, I will see to it," Perthwaite said.

He went over to a side-table and poured out three goblets of wine freely as if he had been the host. Anna supposed his work as a healer granted him a certain degree of familiarity with his clients' homes. She took the goblet he offered and drank more readily than she'd have liked. Working in the dusty, noisy warehouse had given her quite a thirst.

"I see the vintage agrees with you," Sarevok chuckled.

"Forgive me," Anna said, trying to dab a drop of wine that escaped down her chin. "My own manners have vanished, it seems."

"Think nothing of it. I hope the work hasn't been too difficult for you?" he asked.

Anna shook her head but lowered her goblet of wine.

"That is good. I had considered bringing in a mage from Sorcerous Sundries, but I prefer to rely on someone I can trust."

"You trust me, then?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, and a smile quickly formed on his face. "After all we have been through together I could hardly do otherwise."

She tried to smile back but it felt a little half-hearted. Perthwaite had seated himself in a chair next to the sofa and he leaned over.

"Yes, Master Sarevok is quite right. There are so many nowadays who are interested in nothing but coin. Wouldn't you agree?"

Anna nodded, but she noticed the healer had taken a coin from his purse to illustrate the point. It was heavy and bright with silver, and carried a seal she didn't recognise. He twirled it idly between his fingers and she found it oddly interesting to watch.

A knock sounded on the door and the coin went back into his purse. Sarevok called out rather loudly and another servant entered with a trolley covered in food.

"That was remarkably quick," he said. "Just set it up on the table there, if you would."

"Yes, sir," the man replied.

He pushed the trolley into the room and Anna helped herself to another swallow of wine. Sarevok seemed to have little interest in the man, but Perthwaite was eyeing him keenly. His soft voice went low and he spoke so quietly Anna barely heard him.

_"He is not what he seems."_

His words caught Anchev's attention though and he turned to the servant with a cold look. Anna glanced at the man and her goblet fell unheeded from her hands. No servant stood there anymore, but a man in strange black leathers. He drew something from his belt and shattered the silence of the room with a shrill voice.

_"In the name of the Dark Sun! You will die in agony, blasphemer!"_

A scream escaped Anna's own mouth as the room darkened. A black void issued from the man's palm, engulfing the room as it flowed like a vile cloud from his hands. Utterly taken in shock Anna could not even move but she heard the deep sound of chanting next to her. A flash of light burst forth from Perthwaite and surrounded them all in a protective shield.

"Strike at him now!" the healer shouted. Anna didn't know who he was speaking to but her reflexes finally took hold. With a cry of her own she sent a series of glowing missiles flying fast as an arrow into the man. His own magic seemed to absorb them though and they fizzled into nothing.

In her daze she hardly realised that Sarevok was on his feet. He charged at the man with a terrible cry, drawing the heavy sword that always hung at his waist. Through the darkness came flashes of light and then an agonising scream. The black cloud vanished like mist, leaving Anna panting and staring at the sight of Anchev drawing his blade from the man's corpse.

"Greet your Dark Sun, then," he said bitterly, staring at the fallen man with a look of pure ice.

_"What...who was that?"_ Anna stammered. She rose shakily to her feet, nearly falling over her dropped wine goblet in the process.

"Don't worry. It is over now," Perthwaite said.

The healer rose too, and the light in his eyes made him seem anything but a weak old man. Anna looked desperately between the two men and the corpse at their feet, unable to ask the question.

"An assassin," Sarevok said to her. "As he says though, the vermin is dead."

"But why, though?" Anna repeated. "And...he called out to the Dark Sun?"

Her voice trembled more at the name. A follower of Cyric, there? It seemed absurd, almost incomprehensible.

"We have met with his followers before," Sarevok replied. "No doubt from some foul dealings of my father's. You know the sort of people he associated with."

"But then why should he attack you? Your father is dead."

"Not long dead, and these madmen do not forget a slight. But please, do not let this concern you. My father had many enemies, and I have been dealing with such things all my life."

Sarevok almost casually wiped the blood from his blade with a fine silken handkerchief. Anna looked down at the fallen assassin. By appearances he fell from a single strike to the neck. Blood still flowed from the wound like an unholy fountain, covering the fine carpet in a patch of red. By the precision of the blow Anna guessed Sarevok's claims had some truth in them.

...

She heard a clattering in the hall and a pair of guards appeared with weapons drawn.

"Sir! We heard shouting—are you safe?" one exclaimed.

"Yes, Tam, there's no danger anymore," Anchev replied.

"Sorry we didn't get here sooner, sir," the other guard said.

"No matter, we can easily deal with filth such as this. I shall be much more interested to learn how he penetrated the compound in the first place. He disguised himself as one of the kitchen staff, and I have little doubt the man himself is now dead. Have a search organised for his body and begin to interview the servants. And—get this vermin off my rug," Sarevok concluded.

He gave the dead man a disgusted kick. His pale white face lolled to the side and suddenly Anna's stomach turned.

"I need to leave, I can't stay here," she said, almost sobbing.

Anchev gave her a strange look, but he nodded.

"Of course, I understand entirely. My driver will take you home. Perthwaite, if you would kindly see the lady to the door? Prat and Tam will help me deal with this."

He spoke as if 'this' were merely an irritating stain on the rug. Anna swept around the corpse and past the guards in to the hall, not waiting at all for the healer who trailed along behind her. She noticed her dress had red stains down the front of it, a mingling of wine and blood, and its presence made her walk even faster.

"Please, do wait for me!" Perthwaite called on the stairs. "My old legs can't carry me so fast."

"I'm sorry," Anna said, and she forced herself to a halt.

"Don't be. I can't blame you for wishing yourself as far away from that horrible scene as possible. But are you quite alright? You seem very shaken," he said.

The healer looked over her in concern and Anna tried to nod.

"I'll be fine," she said, and drew a deep breath. "I don't know what's wrong with me—that certainly wasn't the first violence I've seen. But it was just...so unexpected."

"The worst violence always is," Perthwaite replied.

"You handled yourself much better than I did," she said, somewhat ashamed of that fact.

He smiled slightly. "Well. I have not always been a healer. I too have seen my share of violence, I am sorry to say. In the end it drove me to find a new path. But this reminds me we cannot escape the darkness, no matter how we might try. Please—if I can be of any service at all, I am at your disposal. Do not trouble yourself with coin, I make a fair enough income to help those who are in need."

He spoke earnestly and gave her a polite bow. Anna shut her eyes and drew another breath, trying to smile for the man.

"Thank you, but I will be fine. Now though I just want to go home."

"Certainly. I will fetch the carriage for you," he said.

Anna however refused the offer; somehow she couldn't bear the idea of waiting even another moment there. Was the Iron Throne cursed? Rieltar's blackness had no end, it would seem. She said farewell to Perthwaite and fled from the compound, making it nearly halfway home before she even realised she'd forgotten her mantle. The blood was flowing too quickly in her veins for the cold to touch her though, and she had little interest in going back.

...

Eagerly she mounted the narrow steps to their room but Finn wasn't there. She wondered in agony where he might be, but likely he wasn't expecting her to return for hours yet. Anna paced the floor for a few minutes then suddenly threw her old cloak around her shoulders. Fleeing the house she hurried along through the streets until she reached the Golden Hind.

Anna had no desire for a repeat performance with the elven woman so she knocked on Jaheira and Khalid's door. It seemed a futile task; the Harpers most certainly would not be in. But much to her delight the door drew open and Jaheira's puzzled face appeared.

"Are you well?" she asked quickly. "What has happened?"

She drew Anna into the chamber without waiting for a reply. Khalid was sitting in front of the fire but he jumped to his feet at the sight of her.

"I'm alright," Anna said, though staring at her stained dress she realised why the couple looked so concerned. In her continued foolishness she'd forgotten even to change. She took the chair Jaheira offered and proceeded to tell her tale.

"You two are mad," the druid said finally. "But I do not know what to make of these events."

"Perhaps it's just as Anchev said," Anna replied, sipping thankfully on the wine Khalid gave her.

"Little about that m-man is clear as it seems," he said. "He has a t-talent for that."

"No. I wonder though..." Jaheira said. "If you are feeling up to an excursion, Anna, perhaps you would come with me? There is someone I would like to speak with."

"Who is that?" she asked.

"Someone we have spoken with only briefly, but I think perhaps we could get more information now. What do you think, my husband?"

"A wise idea," Khalid replied. "G-good luck to you. I will w-wait to hear the news."

"Why, are you not coming?" Anna said.

Jaheira pulled a face. "We gathered this person was not entirely comfortable speaking around men. Perhaps you and I will fare better, especially if we have the right questions."

Anna could do little else but agree. She quickly finished her wine and they said farewell to Khalid.

"How does Xan fare?" she asked as they found the street.

"Better. Although he has taken to carrying on conversations with himself, which is somewhat unnerving," Jaheira said grimly.

"What does he say?"

"Little that makes sense to me. And with his _handler _present I can scarcely spend more than a quarter hour with him at a time. But I believe he is improving, at least."

That was some good news, Anna thought. She hoped too that this meeting wouldn't last long for she'd forgotten to leave Finn a note. He'd likely charge the Iron Throne compound single-handed if she didn't return, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

...

Anna followed along beside Jaheira as the druid guided them into the docks. The two women were mostly silent on the journey, neither making more than a stray observational comment. Anna glanced at her once—Jaheira's face was well-hidden in her hood but the tightness around her eyes told how tired she was. Still she looked about them with a gaze both keen and detached, something like a watching hawk.

The mage would have lost her way in the maze of narrow, dirty streets but Jaheira seemed to know her path. The docks were still busy and bustling but like all the city it seemed to have a different feel about it now. The rolling jollity had been replaced by stern faces and Anna heard more fights than songs coming out of the taverns they walked by. Everyone they passed just seemed in a hurry to get to their destination.

At last Jaheira stopped before a ramshackle house. The door downstairs was unlocked and she drew it open, revealing a narrow, dark stair. The women crept up the creaking steps and into the recesses of the building.

Anna had thought her own place was poor but seeing the state of that house made her feel lucky indeed. If the walls had ever been whitewashed it wasn't in living memory, and the stair was filthy from the rubbish that the residents had carelessly thrown. A door opened a crack at their passing but slammed shut again before Anna could catch a glimpse of whoever was inside. A loud, rattling cough came from somewhere then died away. The entire place gave her a hunted feeling.

Jaheira paused before a door and rapped lightly. There was no noise at all from inside the room, but the door opened slightly.

"What you want?" a voice said.

"Please, forgive our coming," Jaheira said. "But my friend and I would ask a few more words from you."

"No more words," the voice replied, and Anna thought the accent strange. "Nothing more to say."

"Please. You know how important this is," the druid persisted, gently but firmly. "We are here on our honour."

For a moment there was nothing but silence on the opposite side. Jaheira said nothing else, and Anna knew well enough that if the door shut the occupant would likely not open it again. But slowly the wood drew open.

"Very well. You may enter, and speak."

Jaheira thanked the voice and the two women entered the room. A musty smell came to Anna's nostrils and she fought back the urge to sneeze. The wooden shutters were closed and the room was dark save for the light that penetrated the thin slats. Even in the dim light though Anna could mark a difference between the room and the hall outside. The walls were dingy and the few sticks of furniture seemed near collapse, but the bed was flawlessly made and the floor swept clean. A small-framed figure in heavy clothes ushered them to sit on a rug on the floor. Anna was somewhat surprised but then there was only one chair in the room. The figure sat down before them with legs crossed.

"You are bleeding?" she asked, and for the first time Anna could discern a woman's voice.

"No, no," Anna replied quickly, trying to cover her stained dress with her cloak. "I'm not hurt."

"I have no wine to offer you, forgive me," the woman continued.

"We are not offended," Jaheira assured her. "We only came to speak."

The woman pulled down the scarf that covered her ink-dark hair and Anna found herself staring at her. The almond shape of her eyes made her look almost part elven, but her round face bore nothing else of elvish features. In spite of the strange look she was attractive, though she regarded them both with a gaze of iron.

"And you may speak," she said.

"Thank you. I know this is delicate for you, but there is a need," Jaheira said. "Please, we wish to know—did Sarevok ever mention the name of the Dark Sun?"

Anna felt surprised again at the question. The woman jerked slightly but her features stayed stern.

"That name is very black indeed. You should not speak it so freely."

"We understand," the druid continued. "But please, do you know anything of this?"

"Why do you ask?" the woman replied instead.

"Because an assassin who worshipped that god targeted Sarevok this afternoon," Anna spoke.

The woman drew a sharp breath and her eyes grew wide.

"Does he yet live?"

"Yes, Sarevok is alive. The attempt was foiled. But we do not think they would attack without reason," Jaheira said.

The woman looked down, nodding slowly at the rug. Anna's eyes drifted around the room. On a table next to the bed stood a small statue of a deer. It was utterly smooth and carved from a pale green rock that was beautiful to look upon. Its delicate hooves pranced and its head was thrown back as if admiring the sky. But a strange white streak like a lightning scar tore through its fine form, creating a fissure crack in its side.

The woman raised her head, and catching Anna's eye upon it she suddenly threw her scarf over the statue, hiding it from view. Anna felt alarmed and wondered how she could possibly have offended the woman, but neither said anything.

"Yes, I know this name," she said at last.

"Did Sarevok ever call it?" Jaheira said, rather delicately.

"I heard him speak it," the woman replied, giving the druid a glare.

In spite of her hard look Anna knew a guarded answer when she heard one. Jaheira drew a breath, clearly weighing her next question carefully.

"If you know of the darkness, then you know how it can affect men's souls. If Sarevok has been taken by the darkness then there is still a chance to save him. He does not need to end up like his father. If you care for him you would aid us."

Jaheira spoke mildly as she could but her words seemed to have the opposite effect, for the woman nearly jumped to her feet.

_"You know nothing of darkness!"_ she said, her quiet voice striking suddenly like lightning. "You know nothing of anything. I will hear your words no more. Leave my house and do not return."

"Tamoko, please—" Jaheira began.

_"No!_ You will leave at once!"

In her agitation the woman backed against the table, sending the statue toppling to the floor with a thud. She let out a cry and reached for it desperately as if her own child had fallen to the boards. Swiftly she pulled away the scarf but the statue seemed no more harmed than it was before.

"Go now. Leave here," she said dully.

Jaheira drew a deep breath but she rose to her feet, and slowly Anna followed.

"Very well. I am sorry to have disturbed you. But if you should wish to speak you know where we are staying. Farewell."

...

They left the strange woman behind them, still clutching at the wounded statue. Jaheira quietly shut the door and they departed the house in silence.

"Who is she?" Anna managed to ask.

"A former associate of Sarevok's," Jaheira replied. "She was brought to our attention recently, but speaking with her has proven difficult to say the least."

"I should say. Such a strange looking woman," she mused.

"She is from very far away—from Kara-Tur."

"Is she?" Anna said in surprise. "I've never met anyone from those lands. What in the Mother's name would bring her here?"

"That we do not know. But that she was very close to Anchev we do. If anyone could tell us of him, it would be her."

"Why, do you mean...they were intimate?" Anna asked.

"It would seem so. Though it was never public it seems she was once his lover. That is what our informants tell us, at least."

"But now they are not together. And Sarevok and Cythandria are betrothed."

"Yes," Jaheira said strangely. "We believe she was suddenly dismissed from his ranks some time ago, though again why we do not know."

"I wonder how much a jilted lover can be trusted," Anna remarked. "And why did you ask about...? Surely Anchev, whatever his faults...not that. Besides, he despised the cult, that seemed clear."

"I do not know," she groaned. "We heard Anchev's name and that dark god mentioned as one before, but what his affiliation was or is we can only surmise. We have no proof he is a worshipper, only vague rumour. And many rumours surround a man such as him. But if assassins are targeting him then there has been a falling out, in the least."

"I still cannot believe it. Anchev does not seem mad."

"Not all who follow that dark cult are mad," Jaheira said. "Some merely delight in destruction and intrigue for their own purposes. In many ways it would suit the Iron Throne well."

Anna didn't reply. Sarevok, a follower of Cyric? The idea created even more sinister levels. The name of the Prince of Lies seemed to be first whispered after the Time of Troubles, though his fanatical followers claimed he had always been in existence. He declared himself superior over all other gods and in return the churches of all other gods turned against him. His followers revelled in murder and lies, creating elaborate webs of deception wherever they went. Jaheira's claims made sense but Anna prayed they weren't true.

"I should get back to the house," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Finn doesn't know where I am."

"Very well. Oh, Silvanus—give me but one day in the trees," the druid exclaimed under her breath. "I feel sometimes as though I cannot take one more breath in this blasted city."

"I know how you feel," Anna replied. "These walls grow closer with each passing day."

...

Jaheira gave Anna a tight-lipped smile and they hurried back into the city. Anna was about to bid her farewell when Jaheira suddenly spoke again.

"Is that Kivan?" she said, nodding to a figure in the crowd. "What should he be doing here?"

They had little time to wait for an answer. The elf saw them and swept forward quickly, his face more grim than normal.

"By Shevarash, I have found you. Tracking you in these wastes seemed near hopeless but I decided to try."

"Why, what has happened?" Jaheira asked.

"It is Xan," the ranger continued. "He has broken from his dream but he is in great agitation, wandering about and making demands that make little sense. It took all we could do to restrain him from leaving. You should return to the inn at once."

The two women looked at each other in alarm then set off after Kivan, but Anna still called out breathlessly.

"I need to find Finn—"

"Finn is at the tavern, or he was when I left," Kivan called back. "He came seeking you."

Anna felt a little better at the claim, though she still hoped he hadn't been too worried. An evening light was penetrating the streets by the time they reached the Golden Hind. They wasted little time in climbing the stairs and burst into Xan's chambers.

Entering Anna could see what had Kivan so concerned. Xan paced restlessly in the sitting room, his grey eyes looking wild as a caged animal's. Finn and Khalid stood near to hand, watching the scene grimly as Luedre pleaded with Xan in Elvish.

_"My Lord, you must stay," _she said. _"You are not well—"_

_"Well?" _Xan barked in return. _"There are rats in the cellar. Rats! Of course there are rats! We must go to them. There is no time. Give me my blade, I command you!"_

For the first time Anna realised that Luedre held Xan's Moonblade in her grasp, and she stared in near shock. The elven woman hesitated but she held it firm.

_"No. You are not well. We will go and search the cellar for rats, if it would comfort you."_

_"And do you not understand? I must go. There are rats!"_

"What's going on?" Anna exclaimed to anyone who would hear. Finn hurried over to her.

"Thank the gods, are you alright?" he asked, giving her an embrace.

"Yes, but what..."

"I decided to go down to the Throne and see if you were done," he replied quickly. "But they said you were gone, and the whole place was locked down tight. Wouldn't let me in no matter how hard I shouted. I was thinking the worst, so I came here to get some help and found Xan like this."

"There was an attack on the compound...I'm not hurt, though," Anna stammered. "But what's the matter with him?"

"He keeps going on about rats. Says we need to go find the rats," Finn said. "He's gone half-mad, or even madder. Lucky for us he hasn't let loose any magic yet—but maybe you should wait outside."

...

In spite of his agitation Anna couldn't imagine Xan trying to hurt them. Or at least, she hoped he wouldn't. The elf continued his rant, refusing any attempt by Luedre or Jaheira to calm him down. Why was the elf suddenly obsessed with rats? She remembered Henerick Jhasso's ramblings about them—those who went mad seemed taken by vermin. But then the answer came crashing down onto her like water.

"Rats? You mean at the Jhasso's?" she cried out.

That seemed to get Xan's attention. He whirled on her and finally spoke in Common.

"Yes. Yes! There are rats in the cellar. Do you not see? We must go to them at once!"

"Rats, what...at the Jhasso's?" Finn said, confused. "They said something about rats in their cellar. But why would we—"

"It is not rats Xan wishes us to hunt," Jaheira suddenly exclaimed. "Do you know now? What has happened to them?"

"Yes, yes. Rats!" the enchanter continued. "We must go to them!"

"But the Jhasso's won't even let us in the door," Finn said.

"Then w-we shall find a way," Khalid replied.

"Why should we need to go to these people?" Luedre asked. "Whatever befell them, they are little business of ours anymore. Surely it can wait until Lord Xan has fully recovered."

"I'd agree, but he doesn't seem much up to waiting," Finn replied.

Xan stepped up to Luedre and looked her hard in the eyes. She still seemed concerned, but her look faltered and the blade slid slowly out of her grasp. Luedre looked away as he fixed the sword back onto his belt. Xan touched her brow lightly though and she raised her eyes again.

"So we're off to the Jhasso's, then?" Finn said. "Hells. At least we didn't have ought planned for tonight. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

The question seemed directed at no one in particular, but Jaheira responded.

"No, but I am sure of little these days. If we can keep Xan reasonably restrained then perhaps we might have some success...though of what I am not certain."

The sentiment seemed shared by the others though Anna felt the druid's last words carried the most weight. They all donned their cloaks, wrapping them well against the cold and to hide their weapons from prying eyes. Silently they slipped from the inn and Anna took Finn's hand in hers as they made their way into the gathering night.


	95. Steal Your Face

"So what are we meant to do if they won't let us in?" Finn asked as they approached the Jhasso estate. "Smash down the gates? Or are you planning on sneaking in?"

"I would prefer not to resort to housebreaking, but neither does it seem very likely the Jhassos will allow us to enter and search the place," Jaheira conceded.

"We don't even know what we're looking _for,"_ Anna remarked. "Rats in their cellar? We'd seem mad ourselves."

She glanced over at the enchanter. Xan had fallen silent after they left the inn and he made no further declarations, mad or otherwise. He slipped along with the rest of them with his eyes intense and focused under his hood.

"Well, maybe we can just tell them we've taken up a new occupation," Finn grumbled.

The sun had retreated over the western horizon leaving only a faint light of dusk filling the streets. A stray lamp-lighter went about his business, bringing the spark of flame to the lamps that lined the way. Up ahead the Jhasso estate loomed out of the darkness with its windows glistening black as before. The heavy gate was shut and the building seemed all but abandoned.

Anna wondered if they were even at home, but before any of them could speak Xan pulled hard on the bell rope.

"Guess that rules out the element of surprise," Finn remarked. "Unless we go hide in the bushes?"

"I suppose we shall just have to wait and see," Jaheira sighed.

For a long time it seemed nothing happened. Xan stood with his arms folded in his sleeves, still silent in spite of the vexed look on his face. Luedre stood near to hand with her bright eyes surveying the house but she too said nothing.

At last the dim flash of a lantern appeared and bobbed slowly towards them. Reflected in its light Anna could make out the grey beard of the Jhasso's old servant, Toby.

"Here now, what's this?" he said slowly, peering out at them through the gate.

Jaheira cleared her throat and spoke. "Good evening, my man. We thought perhaps there might be an issue with...rats in your cellar."

By her face the druid felt as foolish uttering those words as she sounded. The servant's eyes grew wider but he still spoke slowly.

"Rats? Well, there may be. Can't ever seem to get rid of them anymore. In all honesty I couldn't tell ye. Haven't been down in the cellar in an age."

"Is that not odd for a servant?" Jaheira asked.

"You may say so, ma'am. But I don't ask questions anymore."

"Well," Finn began. "If there's trouble...we might have a look out for the rats. If you want."

Toby raised the lantern and glared at them. Clearly he recognised their band, though what was going through his mind Anna couldn't guess.

"Be that as it may, I don't think the mistress would much appreciate me letting you in. She's been pretty clear on that point—no visitors, and most certainly not you lot."

"And what do you think about it?" Finn asked.

The grey beard twitched. "Lad, I'm beyond knowing what to think. We just stay out of the way and do as we're told anymore."

"But you must realise how strangely the family is behaving," Jaheira said. "We think perhaps there is a chance we might help."

"By looking into the rats?"

"You may say that," the druid replied.

Toby's lantern lowered and Anna could almost see the gears turning over in the man's mind. At last he drew a deep breath and spoke.

"Well, you listen here then. I've worked for this family since their little ones were nought but grasshoppers. And after me wife died they were all the family I had left. I won't be letting anyone into this place with trouble on their mind, no matter what. But...if there's rats, maybe...that's different. Don't want none of the household getting sick, after all."

"We must find the rats," Xan finally spoke. The old man looked at him but he nodded his head.

"Right, well...the family is sat down to supper now. And I doubt they'd have heard the bell from the dining room. You come round to the alley and I'll see you let in. To look for the rats, and that's all."

"Thank you, my man," Jaheira replied.

...

Toby bowed his head slightly but by the look on his face he was still unsure. The others felt little inclined to waste the chance though and hurried around the property to the alley around back. They'd been there once before and their mission seemed no less tense now, Anna thought. After an agonising wait the garden door opened to darkness and the servant stood there without his lantern.

"Come on in now, and be quiet," he said. "The dining room looks out on back and we wouldn't want the missus getting upset by your company."

Anna could see one lone light penetrating the darkness. The curtains were only partially closed and her heart jumped getting a view of the diners, but she tried to remind herself that they could see little of the darkened garden from the dining room.

Mistress Jhasso, Edmund and Celia sat gathered at the end of a long table, slowly helping themselves to the food on their plates. Their faces were stern and they seemed not to converse at all. A middle-aged man she didn't recognise dined with them. Anna wondered who he might be—Toby implied the Jhassos didn't have guests. Waiting on the diners was pale looking young maid who stood in the corner with her hands folded in her apron, looking down at the floor.

Toby led them around the side of the house to the kitchen entrance. A tall, thin matron stood waiting with her hand leaning on a chair as if for support. At the sight of them she drew up straight again.

"By Ilmater, Toby, I do hope you know what you're doing," she said under her breath.

"None more than me," he replied. "This here is Gertrude, one of the few staff left."

"And don't we have our share of it, too," Gertrude said bitterly. "I was the housekeeper once, but now I find myself doing the scrubbing like a common maid. And since Hennie quit I've been the cook as well. If I didn't have Ma to take care of I'd be long gone, myself."

"Just so, just so," Toby said. "Have you got the key to the cellar?"

"I have," the woman replied. A ring of brass keys dangled from her belt but she reached instead into her apron pocket, then gave the key to Toby.

"Renseo the butler took the cellar keys off us awhile back. Said it was to keep Master Edmund out of the wine, though none of us was giving him any. I reckon he forgot that Trudy here keeps a spare set."

"Forgot!" Gertrude snorted. "It's a fine thing for the head of staff. And taking his meals with the family now too, can you imagine? We're waiting on _him. _Good thing this house is like a grave anymore, I'd go red in the face trying to explain that one away."

"Then the butler is the man in the dining room? That is strange," Anna remarked.

Maya had been enough like family that she ate at the table, though when company stopped round she took to her place without a fuss. In her little cottage there was never much call to stand on ceremony. But in a formal estate such as that the idea that a servant would be dining with the family was almost unthinkable.

"Aye, that's him," Toby said. "And if you're going down cellar you'd best be quick. The family don't come into the kitchens much but Renseo might stick his nose in. They're likely to be at table for another hour yet, but I wouldn't want to chance it."

"I still don't understand what all this is for. What do rats have to do with any of this? But if you can find anything at all I wish you luck," Gertrude said solemnly. "I don't know how much more I can take of working in a cursed house."

Toby didn't reply but he handed Finn his lantern and the key. He directed them over to a trapdoor and Finn drew it open with an unnerving creak. Below a stone staircase descended into darkness.

Finn took the lead and one by one they followed him into the cellar. Anna jumped inside her skin hearing the sound of the door shutting with a thud behind them. She tried hard to remind herself that it was merely a cellar they were stepping in to, not some unholy dungeon. But try though she might her nerves refused to listen.

The cellar looked much like any one would expect in a house such as that, though—wine racks lined the walls, barren as they were, and mostly-empty barrels that once held food and sundries were stacked up in the corners. The floor was rather dirty from disuse but there were no rats, nor anything of else of interest to be seen.

"And now what?" Finn muttered to himself. "I don't see a damn thing down here."

"It does seem...empty," Jaheira replied.

"It was a l-long hope, m-my love," Khalid said. "We d-didn't know what we m-might find."

"There are no traces of violence, at least," Kivan remarked, examining the floor. "I see no bloodstains."

Luedre said nothing and looked around with her arms folded over her chest; the expression on her face told well enough of what she thought of their mission. But she cast a worried glance over at Xan who'd taken to exploring the deserted cellar like a curious dog.

"Don't suppose he'd be willing to help," Finn said, looking at him. "Oi, Xan—where are the rats? What are we meant to be looking for here?"

The elf didn't reply and continued shuffling about aimlessly in the corners. Finn let out a deep groan and Anna sighed as well.

"We should have known there'd be nothing. It was too much to hope for. But we should probably leave before the Jhassos get wind of us being here," she said.

Finn opened his mouth to agree but suddenly Xan burst into animation again, tugging hard at a crate.

"Here! Rats!" he exclaimed.

They all hurried to where the elf stood. He managed to pull the crate away from the wall but Anna still couldn't see anything. Kivan leaned down and began running his hands over the stone.

"There is a seam here," he said. "Look! It is a door."

Now that he pointed it out Anna could see it plain as day. She held her breath as the ranger carefully traced over the lines, wiping away the dust.

"A secret passage? That's a lot more clever than I'd have given the Jhassos credit for," Finn said.

"Many of these older homes have secret passages—the nobility can be rather paranoid, and sometimes for good reason," Jaheira remarked.

"But where does it open?" Anna asked.

Xan apparently didn't feel like waiting to find out. He pressed his hands against the stone and uttered a spell, causing the door to swing outwards with the grind of stone on stone. Cool air flowed out and Anna immediately stood back, trying hard to suppress a gag. A foul stench, one far worse than the sewers hung in the dark passage.

"What the hells, did they leave some meat down here and forget it?" Finn exclaimed.

"No," Jaheira said slowly. "Come, and take care."

...

Cautiously they stepped into the passage. Here at last were the rats; Anna instinctively raised her hem as several black shapes scurried away into the darkness. Finn drew his sword and moved on. The putrid smell grew stronger as they went further down the tunnel. It sloped downwards and the uneven stones underfoot made walking difficult. Still Finn pressed on, until at last he stopped cold as if he'd run into a wall.

A horrified cry escaped from Anna's mouth before she could stop it. Finn cursed and charged at the rats who gathered there, sending them scattering before his lantern and blade. With reluctance they fled further back into the passage, not wanting to abandon their business.

Mistress Jhasso, Celia and Edmund were there, lying bound in chains on the floor. Or at least what remained of their mortal shells was on that cold floor; the rats had done their work well. The women's elegant dresses flowed around their bodies and the finery seemed absurdly at odds with the macabre scene. Anna could only hold her breath in horror, unable to make a sound and unable to tear her eyes from the nightmare vision.

It took the others too and none seemed able to speak. But the first sound Anna heard wasn't from their band, but rather the pale and bleeding lips of Edmund Jhasso.

_"They're dead...dead..."_

He kept croaking out the word even as Jaheira leaned over him. Her healing put some life into him but it seemed barely enough.

_"Dead...dead," _he rasped again.

Anna freed him from his bonds and he reached limply for his mother and sister. But they remained still, their unknowing bodies no longer capable of touch. The gap seemed too far and he slumped back with a sob.

"Edmund, what has happened?" Jaheira said to him.

He looked up at her with that pale, shattered face but seemed incapable of speech. His mouth opened but that was all.

"We need to get him out of here," Finn said quickly. "Here, help me—_oh_, bloody hells."

He reached down to Edmund but recoiled at the sight of something lying near his feet. Finn shook his head and went back to lifting the man from the stone. Anna could see what made him step back—a ravaged ball of fur lay still at Mistress Jhasso's side, faithful even to the end.

"They even killed the dog," Finn muttered. "But if they're down here, then who's upstairs?"

"Some kind of illusion magic?" Anna offered limply. Her brain was not working well just then.

"No," Xan rambled. "Rats. Vermin. Can you not see?"

Apparently they did not. The enchanter offered nothing else and Kivan helped Finn navigate Edmund out of the passage. He was far too weak to stand on his own legs and his scarred hands hung limp at his sides.

"They...took our faces," he whispered. "They took..."

Edmund broke off again, wrapped in another spasm of pain that seemed as much mental as physical. Jaheira mounted the stairs and pressed against the trap door but it wouldn't budge. She listened for a moment with a tense look on her face, then rattled the latches hard.

"Locked. And no sound in the kitchen. Silvanus, I fear we may be found out."

"Then they'd be pretty thick to imagine a lock would keep us in here," Finn replied. "Anna, can you?"

Anna stepped forward and cast her spell against the wood with a racing heart. She moved back and let the warriors slip into the kitchen first. Kivan remained in the rear, holding Edmund on his feet with his strength alone. Luedre likewise stood guard over Xan, whose eyes regarded the scene with a lack of interest more often seen on sleepy afternoons before the fire. Jaheira peered into the kitchen and gestured for the others to follow.

It was dark. Toby and Gertrude were gone, and the candlelight had gone with them. Finn carefully waved the lantern around the darkened room but nothing could be seen except the flickering shadows.

"This is just brilliant," he muttered. "Shall we go and have a look?"

"Yes. Kivan, stay here with Edmund," Jaheira replied quietly. "If there is danger do not hesitate to shout. Luedre, perhaps you and Xan should remain behind as well."

"I will stay by my lord's side," the elven woman replied, but Xan seemed to wake from his trance.

_"No_. Rats. I must go...find the rats," he said.

...

Luedre didn't have time to argue. A light flickered in the doorway and the maid appeared carrying a tray filled with dishes. At the sight of them she stopped dead in her tracks, her face wide with fright.

"Who—who are you people?" she said. "Why are you..._Master Edmund? _What's happened to you, sir?"

The maid barely had time to set the tray on the table before the contents would have gone tumbling to the floor. She kept staring at him in shock while Edmund tried and failed to answer her.

"Never mind that for now," Jaheira said quickly. "Where are the other staff? Where is the family?"

"But, _why _are you..." the maid stammered again.

She kept rolling her hands in her apron in a frightened way while slowly stepping back from the group. Edmund managed to muster his strength and spoke.

"Answer her, Daisy," he rasped. "Where are they?"

"Well, sir, the family's retreated to the library like always. The other staff are doing the evening rounds, but...how'd you get here, sir? I saw you, just now..."

She kept shaking her head, seemingly unable to process the ravaged vision of Edmund Jhasso before her.

"Don't ask," he managed. "Just...stay here. There's danger."

"If you say so, I will. But the dining room's not clear yet, sir, and I need to put the lamps out..."

She paused again, but this time her eyes were on Xan. The elf had slowly crept nearer to her and his narrowed eyes watched her keenly. Finn seemed to notice Xan's interest and slipped around to her other side.

"Why's he looking at me like that?" the maid whined. "I haven't done nothing, sir, I haven't."

"No one said you had, flower. He making you a bit nervous?" Finn asked.

"No," Daisy replied, but her face said otherwise.

Xan kept staring at the maid in that intense way, never once breaking his gaze. It made Anna uncomfortable enough just watching him and she could imagine how the maid felt. His conclusion made her feel little better.

_"Rat," _he hissed.

Finn reached for her pale wrist and grasped it hard but the maid managed to wrench herself free. She backed away towards the wall, rolling her hands in her apron in an almost demented way.

"What...what are you doing? Don't touch me! Master Edmund, stop them, please!"

"You've got quite a strong arm for a lass," Finn remarked. "Though I reckon carrying all those trays has built up your muscles a bit."

Edmund had no comment, still leaning hard against Kivan. His scarred face watched the maid and his breathing grew more ragged. Daisy kept rolling her hands in that strange way and pleaded with him again.

"Don't let them hurt me! You were always so nice to me, Master Edmund...remember when you sent that footman off because he wouldn't leave me be? I'm a good girl, I am, I haven't done anything wrong!"

Daisy proclaimed her innocence loudly but her entire manner struck Anna as bizarre. No one had accused her of a thing, but the maid carried on as though she'd been fingered for stealing the silver or having inappropriate dealings with the stable lads. Xan kept glaring at her and Finn moved closer again.

"All right, all right. No need to be upset, now..." he said slowly.

He reached for her but she swatted away his hand with force.

"Get back. Get back from me!" she said, a strange hissing tone somewhere in her throat.

"Now—" Finn began, but his reply was cut short in surprise. The petite maid virtually leaped on him, forcing him back hard against the table as her hands reached for his throat. The tray of dishes went smashing to the floor and Anna shouted seeing her hand straying closer to the dagger on Finn's belt. Just in time he managed to throw her off and drove her into a corner.

_"Bloody hells," _he growled, wiping a smear of red from his lip. "What are you—half wildcat, woman?"

Daisy glared at him with all the look of a predator on her pale face. Her fingers deftly wrapped around Finn's dagger and she raised it threateningly. Finn wasted no time in drawing his sword in return.

"I think you'd better drop that—" he said, but once again the maid was in no mood to listen. Anna's mouth fell open watching her make the long leap onto the table nimbly as any acrobat. She hesitated for a moment then leaped again towards the door.

Quick as she could Anna conjured a missile and sent the bolt hurtling towards her. It caught Daisy in midair and she cried out, losing her footing and stumbling as her feet touched ground. But Anna wasn't the only one quick with a spell; a series of coloured lights burst forth from Xan's hand and the maid collapsed onto the tiled floor.

Daisy rolled onto her back, still somehow conscious in spite of the onslaught. Finn sheathed his sword and hurried towards her, struggling with the impossibly strong woman as she wrestled with him over the dagger. Daisy finally lashed out and struck him hard across the face with an animal cry.

Finn looked almost dazed from the blow but he used it to his advantage. He forced the dagger from her grasp but the motion was too quick and his hand slipped downwards. It sunk into her chest, and the look of horror spread further over Finn's face as the blood which covered them both was not red, but a bright acid green.

_"Fuck," _he muttered, and the word seemed to say it all. He jumped to his feet and stood over the panting maid, staring as she hissed at him like an animal.

_"Demon," _she gurgled. _"Curse you...die..."_

The others gathered around but none said a word as Daisy breathed her last. Even Jaheira made no attempt to heal her wounds, watching instead as that sick green blood flowed from wound and mouth in equal measure. With a final hiss she collapsed back onto the tile, still clutching at the dagger.

In death the maid's pale freckled skin and yellow hair faded away. Her cheeks grew sunken and hollow and Anna could only stare as her skin turned grey as ash. Daisy's features melted like candle wax into nothingness, leaving only two watery blue eyes staring up at them. Her very dress melted to reveal an emaciated, genderless figure with gangly long limbs.

"A rat," Xan said finally.

"Not any rat I've ever bloody seen," Finn replied, shaking himself. "What the hells was she?"

"I do not believe...a doppelganger. It must be," Jaheira said, sounding no less shocked. "How could we have been so blind?"

"Doppelgangers, here?" Anna said, frightened.

She'd heard tales of the shape-changers the same as anyone—monsters who usurped kingdoms and dynasties for their evil designs, often reigning for years before being detected. But they always seemed more like something from legend, not creatures which truly walked among them.

"They took our faces," Edmund repeated. "They took our memories. It was inside my head... _Oh,_ Helm, I couldn't get it out..."

"Calm yourself, please," Jaheira said to him. "We will find the monsters. Somehow...but what of the other staff?"

Edmund shuddered again with a sob, glaring at the dead creature with a mixture of vile hatred and agony. He fell away from Kivan's grasp and collapsed to the floor.

_"Beast! You beast! _They killed my family. They killed my father..." he wailed.

...

Anna looked around the kitchen with wild eyes. More of those monsters were out there, assuming they hadn't fled into the night, and they must certainly have heard the commotion in the kitchen. They needed to find them. Jaheira seemed to feel the same for she spoke forcefully.

"Enough. Kivan, remain here with Edmund. We shall scour the house for these creatures. Xan and Luedre should also remain. He is still not entirely himself—"

"We need him though," Finn interrupted. "He's the only one that can spot these things."

"Perhaps you are right," Jaheira said. "But then, Khalid, perhaps you might stay. Kivan should not be alone here."

"It should be y-you who stays behind, my love," Khalid replied gently. "Edmund still is in n-need of a healer."

"Yes...yes, that is so. But what if you come under attack?" she said.

"If that's the worst these things have got then we'll be fine," Finn remarked. "I just hope they haven't made a break for it yet."

The druid didn't seem entirely pleased with the idea but she could hardly argue. Edmund writhed on the floor, clutching at his torn and bloodied clothes and crying. She helped Kivan lift him up and they settled him on a sack of flour in the corner.

"Very well then," Jaheira conceded. "But do be careful. We will barricade ourselves in here for safety. Knock three times, then five times more when you return."

She gave Khalid a quick kiss and he departed with a smile. The others followed him into the hall and the kitchen door closed behind them.

"Now where to?" Finn asked.

He raised the lantern and peered around. The house was dark and silent but Anna could see a light flickering faintly up ahead.

"There, perhaps?" she whispered. "But I don't know if those things can see in the dark."

"Our eyes can, even if theirs cannot," Luedre said. "Let us find these beasts."

Silently they crept down the empty hall, wary of the darkened doors they passed. They came upon a set of heavy double doors that must lead into the dining room. One was slightly ajar and Finn cautiously pushed it open with his sword. A few candles still burned in the sconces and on the table a candelabra was nearly burned down to the wick. Some stray dishes and the leftover remains of the false Jhassos' supper also covered the table.

"Looks clear," Finn said.

"Wait," Khalid replied.

He drew his own blade and stepped into the room. Walking lightly as a cat he crept around the table, peering underneath the cloth. As he neared the window though Khalid let out a soft cry.

"She is here," he called.

The others came into the room and gathered around the Harper as he crouched down near the floor. The true Daisy lay pale and still on the carpet, stabbed to the quick by the knife that hung from her throat.

"Poor child," Khalid whispered, reaching out to shut her eyes.

"We'll find them," Finn said grimly.

In spite of his grave tone Anna detected a hint of relief in his face, no doubt thankful that it was not him who killed this version of the maid. Khalid pulled the knife from her wound, and they left her lying where she was.

"The other one said the family were in the library," Finn said. "Don't know if that's true, or if it's a trap."

"Or if they are in there at all," Anna replied.

Fortunately they had enough familiarity with the Jhassos' home to find the library in good time. The door was closed but a tell-tale glimmer of light shone from behind the frame.

"What do you think? Worth it?" Finn said low to Khalid.

The half-elf nodded and drew his blade again. Finn tried the door but the latch refused to budge. Before Anna could offer her services he leaned back and delivered a hard kick against the bolt. She jumped back, startled as the door swung wide and slammed hard against the wall. Finn dove into the room as if an army waited in there and the others followed.

...

No army was there though, just the shivering figure of Gertrude the housekeeper.

"Oh, praise Ilmater! I've been so afraid...I came in here to see if the family wanted anything before I left for the night, and Mistress Jhasso struck me cold across the head! When I came to they were all gone and the door was locked from the outside. I don't know what's going on, but something is terribly wrong. Where's Toby, have you seen Toby?"

Gertrude groaned and rubbed her greying head as she leaned against a sofa for support. Her pleas fell on deaf ears, however.

"That depends. What do you think, Xan?" said Finn.

The enchanter said nothing; his expression told all. He raised a finger in Gertrude's direction and she stepped back in alarm.

"What's that elf-fellow doing?" she asked. "He's not about to put a curse on me, is he?"

"You m-may say so," Khalid replied. "We know what y-you are. Tell us where th-the others are, now."

"I don't know what you mean—" the housekeeper began.

"Then how's about I cut into you and see what colour you bleed?" Finn growled. "We're not playing games here, freak. You want to leave here alive you'll answer the man."

Gertrude looked more alarmed still, but then a crooked smile crossed her face.

"You know, dog? You _know? _Your kind are nothing but fools. We are everywhere. But you will not live long enough to accuse another of our kin."

She reached into the folds of her dress and Anna just caught sight of a wand before ducking for shelter behind a chair. A blast of cold whirled like a blizzard into the room, covering the velvet chair and Anna's own clothes in ice. She felt the bite of it against her exposed skin and cried out as her cheeks blistered as if burned by fire. Her hands felt numb and dead but she forced herself from her hiding place to fire an answering volley.

There was no need. Anna watched as Luedre moved with speed towards the housekeeper. Gertrude took aim but Luedre was quicker; her blade struck home and the woman fell to the floor with her head nearly severed from her body.

"Damn, you don't waste any time," Finn said, in half-surprise and half-admiration.

"Should I have let her attack while I thought up a clever retort?" the elven woman said, sheathing her sword. "We do not waste effort. Strike hard and strike once."

"Yeah, well, there's another one down," he replied, watching as the housekeeper's form was replaced by smooth grey skin.

"How many are there, do you think?" Anna asked.

She rubbed her blistered hands together and winced. They were raw and chapped but not white with frostbite, at least. It seemed the others thankfully managed to escape the worst of the blast as well.

"The Jhassos w-were three, and w-we can assume the butler as well. Xan seemed to find n-nothing wrong with this p-poor woman or the manservant when we entered, so there are m-most likely two left," Khalid said.

His own face was cracked and bleeding from the cold but he ignored it. Xan stared down at the headless doppelganger with a neutral expression. Anna noticed he seemed unharmed from the blast; even through his madness he'd managed to conjure his protections.

"Two left and a massive, dark house to search," Finn grumbled. "Let's hope we get lucky. Here, love, why don't you take this—reckon you'd be safer with it than the rest of us."

He picked up Gertrude's fallen wand from the carpet and Anna winced a little at the spatterings of green blood, but she wiped it on her already bloodstained dress and tucked it securely into her bodice laces.

...

They decided to try the upstairs next. They made their way up the wide staircase, their feet making no sound at all on the thick rug underfoot. Methodically they searched each of the rooms in turn but the darkened chambers were empty.

They reached at last Master Jhasso's chamber. The room seemed void as the others—no fire and no signs of life, just a pale moonlight that shone in the windows like a dying sun.

"Clear too," Finn said under his breath. "Reckon we'd better get downstairs and check on the others."

He turned to leave but Luedre stood firm.

"No..." she said quietly. "There is something here. I can feel it. _Heruamin?"_

She looked to Xan. He stood perfectly still but Anna could see his eyes searching the place. What was it they felt? Beyond her own nerves she sensed nothing. Still she decided to take a chance. She spoke a new incantation into the air and felt it rippling out into the corners. Anna's heart virtually stopped as three figures materialised from the ether.

"Well done," the changeling Mistress Jhasso said. "You are not quite as ineffectual as I'd thought."

"They do not impress _me," _the man who'd been at the dinner table replied.

Anna assumed he must be a copy of the butler, Renseo, but her attention was truly drawn to the stooped old fellow who stood between them.

"You're here, you're here!" Toby suddenly called out. "Save me from these demons, I'm begging you!"

The doppelgangers looked at him in surprise but the group needed no urging. Toby collapsed behind the bed, leaving the others a free target. The monsters fought with all their strength and speed but they stood little chance against the armed band.

It was over remarkably quickly. Mistress Jhasso fell to Khalid's blade, her fine gown flowing out around her in a gross imitation of the woman who lay dead in the cellar. Renseo made a dash for the door but Anna's missile laid him low and Finn's sword finished the job. Their bodies reverted to grey and Luedre roughly pulled the old servant from his hiding place.

_"Ow, _missy—what's the meaning of this?" Toby grunted. "Me old hip can't take that."

"And why did they conceal you as well?" she demanded. "Why did you keep silent when we entered the room?"

"They took me hostage!" he cried out. "That Renseo, or whatever he was...he had a dagger pressed into me side. Said he'd gut me like a cat if I said ought. Oh, gods preserve us...what were they?"

He stared trembling at the fallen doppelgangers but Luedre didn't loosen her grip. Xan stepped forward, his head cocked to one side as he stared at the man keenly. Toby returned his gaze, a startled and frightened expression on his wrinkled face. At last though Xan sighed.

"He is not a rat," the elf concluded.

"A rat? I should hope not," Toby muttered. "But will you tell me what madness has taken this place? What did you find in the cellar?"

"The Jhassos. Dead," Finn replied. "All but for Edmund."

Toby slowly pulled off his cap at the revelation, clutching it in his hands tightly.

"By all the gods. I never knew...none of us knew. This lot just ambushed me like, right in the hall. Dragged me up here to do who knows what. But where's Gertrude and Daisy?"

"They are dead as well," Luedre replied without emotion.

The old servant had enough to make up for her lack. The cap began to shake in his hands and tears stained the corners of his eyes.

"Dead? How...oh, no...I can't..."

He fell hard against the bed as if struck. Khalid went to him and helped the old man settle himself.

"This has b-been a terrible night," he said. "But it is over n-now. These b-beasts will plague you no more."

"What's that mean?" he cried in reply. "Dead? They can't all be dead. Sweet little Daisy, the missus...it can't be right."

"Edmund is still alive," Anna said quietly. "But just barely. He needs your care now."

Toby slowly nodded his head, trying to collect himself.

"Aye. Aye. The young master. At least he's been spared to us. Where's he? I should see to him. Reckon he could use a hot drink...and I need a jug of whiskey."

...

They left the doppelgangers where they were and headed back downstairs. The old servant leaned on Finn's arm for support, though he seemed more in shock than in pain. Khalid rapped on the kitchen door the right number of times and Anna heard the sound of something scraping away behind the frame. The door drew open quickly and Jaheira's worried face appeared.

"Silvanus—we have been waiting an age. What has happened? Have you found them?"

"We have," Khalid replied, managing a little smile for his worried wife. "We k-killed the monsters, but I'm afraid the two w-women servants are dead. We m-managed to save the m-manservant only."

"More death, then," Jaheira said solemnly. "But your face...what happened?"

She caressed her palms over Khalid's cheeks and spoke a quick prayer. The skin healed under her touch and he pressed his own hands to hers.

"One h-had a wand, that is all. W-we were not badly injured."

A fleeting smile passed over Jaheira's face and she gave him a quick kiss. Anna stumbled into the kitchen, not much thinking of her own injuries. Edmund was sitting up now and he called over to Toby.

"They're dead," he repeated as the old man grasped his hands. "All of them...they're dead."

"Aye, sir. I know. Poor Gertrude and Daisy, too. But don't you worry none. Old Toby is still here. I may have the rheumatism but I'll see this place put to right again, I swear it."

Edmund smiled but he looked on the verge of collapse again.

"No. I can't...I can't stay here anymore. Not after what happened... They're still down there, Toby...Mother and Celia. I just can't..."

The tears finally came and Edmund's thin frame racked with sobs. With a grunt the old man sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"It's all right, sir, it's all right," he kept repeating.

He patted the younger man's head in a grandfatherly way and Edmund tried to recover some of himself. Jaheira looked at him and let out a ragged sigh.

"It would not be wise for him to stay here tonight, regardless. I have done what I can but he needs nursing—he is running a fever, little surprise. We should take him back to the Golden Hind with us, but we shall have to find a carriage. He would not hold out to walk and it is too far to carry him."

"Finding a carriage at this hour is going to be a challenge" Finn said. "Do any of your neighbours have one we could borrow, Toby?"

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't feel much up to asking," the servant replied. "But we have a carriage we could use."

"Where, Toby? We sold the horses months ago," Edmund remarked.

"Well, not a carriage exactly," Toby admitted. "But it'll do in a pinch."

Edmund looked puzzled but then shook his head.

"Oh, no, not that. We couldn't really..."

"It's all we've got, sir, and it's that or walk. It's still in decent enough nick. But if there's nought else I'd like to be shut of this place, myself. The ghosts will be walking this eve, mark my words," Toby said gravely.

...

It was true, there seemed nothing else to do. Poor Gertrude's body was still undiscovered and the rats were no doubt continuing their feast of the Jhassos. But not even Edmund seemed to have the will to deal with it any further. Carefully they eased the wounded young man out of the house and Toby locked the door behind them. They made their way into a stable in the back of the property, which looked entirely deserted save for one occupant.

Inside a stall stood a dappled grey pony, with a white mane that stuck out like a broom. The animal whickered a little as Edmund hobbled inside.

"Old Snowdrop," he said, caressing the stiff mane fondly. "She must be getting a bit lonely out here. Father gave her to us when we were children. We used to drive her all over our country estate in the summertime. I used to make her gallop just to scare Celia, though she'd never run for long—far too lazy for that."

He laughed slightly, but his face looked pained again and he patted the pony rather hard.

"Aye, she's a good old girl," Toby agreed. "We had to sell off the carriage horses but the mistress said in no uncertain terms that Snowdrop was staying put. Be like selling one of the family, it would."

As he spoke he drew a sheet of canvas off of a lumpen shape, revealing a small two-wheeled cart. It was a child's pony cart, and faded and chipped though it was Anna had to smile at its bright red sides and cheerful green and gold bunting that was painted along the edge. Even to her it seemed to conjure up memories of endless childhood summers.

"I'm going to feel like a bit of a prat riding around in the cart," Edmund remarked, carefully backing the plump pony from her stall.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Master Edmund. Folk'll never see in the dark," Toby said matter-of-factly.

He reached out to help Edmund fix the harness onto the pony but Snowdrop suddenly shied away from his touch, letting out an agitated horse-cry. Edmund managed to calm her though and eventually they strapped her between the bars.

"She hasn't been hitched to this contraption in an age," Edmund said. "I guess she thought her pulling days were long over."

He gave the pony another friendly pat and Toby helped him climb into the cart. His grown legs were far too long for the seat though and he had to dangle them over the side. Toby took up the reins and clucked to the pony. She hesitated at first but her plump little legs decided to move, forcing Edmund to cling to the seat back for balance as the cart bobbed away.

...

They followed the cart out of the stables and into the street, walking slowly along behind the clip-clopping pony like some odd parade. Thankfully the streets were mostly empty in the cold night and few noticed them passing by.

"Are you all right, love?" Finn asked, wrapping his arms around Anna's shoulder.

"I suppose so," she replied.

The warmth of his body felt good and she leaned further into him. Finn smiled and kissed her cheek, and she felt that tingling rush of his own healing flowing into her. She suddenly wished they two were alone in the warmth of their own little room, not out in the cold empty night. More than anything just then she wanted the comfort of his body, to feel him close to her. But the night wasn't yet done and she knew she'd most likely collapse into sleep the moment her head touched a pillow.

After a long, slow walk they reached the Golden Hind. Jaheira bribed the stable lads to take the pony, ignoring the snickers they made over Edmund's grand arrival. Carefully they helped him up the stairs and into Xan's chamber.

Khalid helped him remove his filthy outer clothes then tossed them onto the fire, making it spark up as the once-fine velvet and silk caught alight. Jaheira rang for a servant and ordered up a bath, a pitcher of wine and some thin pottage.

"You should bathe in rosemary oil in case of any...infestations. I'm certain you may stay here tonight," she said to Edmund. "If it does not trouble you?"

She turned to Luedre with an arch look. The elf's face was cool but she shook her head.

"No. He can rest in the other chamber. We are rather used to playing host to invalids by now."

Anna flushed red but she said nothing. Kivan stood by the window staring out at the city for a moment, then drew the curtains shut rather quickly.

"I still do not feel at ease. I cannot feel we managed to kill all those creatures. Who can say how many more are in the city, even now?"

"No way to tell, mate," Finn responded. "And certainly no way to look for them tonight. I should find a patrol and try to explain what happened to the Jhassos. If I can," he added.

"Perhaps that should wait," Jaheira said thoughtfully. "If no one knows their fate we may still have an advantage. Someone sent those creatures to prey on the Jhassos, they must have. We need to discover who."

"Rieltar Anchev. Do you need to ask?" Edmund croaked. "It was always him."

"Did the creatures say that was who they were working for?" the druid asked.

"No. They didn't say anything at all. They just...raped our minds."

Edmund shut his eyes and another look of pain washed over his face.

"Then we cannot know for certain. But I feel Kivan is right...there is more to this. I fear that, too," Jaheira sighed.

"We can't keep it a secret for long," Anna remarked. "Someone is bound to come knocking on their door. Didn't Gertrude say she lived with her mother? And the maid must have had family, too."

"Aye, it's true enough," Toby said. "But maybe I can go round to Trudy's place tonight, tell her mam that she decided to stay over. I just don't know if I can keep from telling her what really happened, though."

"You don't need to go," Edmund said. "Her old mother is probably fast asleep by now. You could go in the morning."

"Nope. No, that won't do," Toby decided. "I won't have that old woman worrying. She'll find out the truth soon enough. Will you be alright here, Master Edmund? I can stop into my mate's for the night, he'll put me up there."

"Sure, Toby," Edmund sighed. "You go along, then."

The old servant bowed to his master, then gave them all a tight-lipped smile before hobbling away again out the door.

"Thank Helm I've still got Toby," Edmund said after the man left. "He's always been there."

"Indeed. But...I do wish to say how sorry we are," Jaheira said. "Though all this we were not able to save your family. It shames me."

Edmund looked away towards the fire, a strange expression on his face.

"They kept us alive for awhile. Bringing us food and things, until they stopped bothering. The rats always came, though...we could fight them off mostly. Celia cried at first, but she stopped... Mother stayed so strong though, at least until her double brought in Spicer. He was yapping and howling...she killed him right there, right in front of us. That broke her. She just...sobbed..."

His body shook again and Jaheira went to him. Anna looked at Finn and he grasped her hand.

"I think we'd better get home," he said. "We'll come round in the morning."

"Very well. T-take care," Khalid said quietly.

None of the others bothered with a good night. Jaheira tended to the heartbroken Edmund while Khalid stood by. Xan paced slowly before the fire and Kivan watched him, still as a statue but for his glittering black eyes. Luedre vanished into Xan's bedchamber without a word to anyone else. Anna and Finn retreated in silence, leaving the pain-filled room behind them.


	96. Paranoia

_I've been on a writing binge lately! A rather long update here but there's some important things happening._

_..._

They shared few words on the walk home and went to bed in the same fashion. Finn curled up close to Anna and by the sound of his breathing he was soon asleep. In spite of her exhaustion though Anna found sleep harder to come by. She lay still in bed, looking up at the darkened ceiling and thinking.

Was it Rieltar who sent the doppelgangers? It seemed hard to imagine those monsters would prey on the Jhassos by chance. And Rieltar was certainly evil enough to enlist the aid of creatures like that. But she wondered if even a lotus-driven madman would make corrupting his competition with intelligent monsters a part of his business practice. Surely there were safer ways of driving the Seven Suns out of business, especially with the deep coffers and long reach of the Iron Throne at his disposal.

She thought too of his involvement in the iron plague, bandit attacks and the hundred other affairs he was rumoured to have a hand in. That madman with the wild eyes...was he keen enough to create the intrigue that had nearly driven Baldur's Gate and Amn into war? Anna knew better by now than to underestimate people, and she knew little of the interests and capabilities of those that had surrounded him. But something about it still didn't sit right.

The only other obvious player was his son. Sarevok Anchev did possess the mind for those sorts of machinations, that was obvious. He had just the right combination of intelligence and charm, and he could easily manipulate his addled father if he so chose. Duke Silvershield himself clearly suspected him of something and he didn't seem the sort of man taken to fancy.

But again it made little sense. If Rieltar had no vested interest in war she could see none for Sarevok, either. What could he possibly hope to gain? He stood to lose as much as any of them if Amn laid siege to the city. The business he put so much effort into would be in ruins and his very life at risk. Was he in fact working for Amnish interests? Possibly, but it didn't seem likely. No—something was missing, but try though she might Anna couldn't figure out what.

Her tired brain finally succumbed to sleep but when she woke in the morning Anna knew what she needed to do. Finn wouldn't like it, and neither did she, but there was nothing else.

"You aren't going back to the Iron Throne," he declared as they sat eating breakfast. "That's mad! The place could be full of those things."

Finn paused with his bread held in the air, looking at her as though she'd announced her intention to be part of the front wave against the Amnish. A dollop of porridge dripped from the bread onto the table and he slapped the crust back into the bowl.

"I know, but I need to go. There may still be something," she said.

"And what's to stop you ending up like the Jhassos, or those wretched servants from last night?"

"I'll be on guard. I know what to watch for. These things must use stealth, taking their victims unawares. I'll be careful. Besides, we can't say for certain if—"

"We can say it well enough," he interrupted. "I'm sorry, but if there's a chance even one of those bloody things is in there I won't stand for it. You're not going."

"It's not really up to you," Anna replied quietly.

She distracted herself by adding another pinch of salt to the porridge. Her cheeks coloured feeling Finn's gaze but she said nothing and neither did he. Finn continued eating angrily, wolfing down the porridge as if he expected someone to wrestle the bowl away. In a moment he stood up from the table and pushed his chair back with a hard thump.

"Right then. If you're going up to the Throne, then I'm going to the Golden Hind. Here's hoping if I see you again, it'll still be _you."_

"Oh, Finn, don't," Anna said, but that bright spark in his eyes didn't fade. He threw on his cloak and gave her a rough peck on the cheek before tromping away out of the room.

She drew a shaking breath and stared at his deserted place at the table. Anna hardly blamed him for being angry, but she wished more than anything that he hadn't stormed away like that. She wiped her stinging eyes as she set the dishes away, wondering if she should change her mind. But she squared her jaw and went about her mission.

...

Anna slipped into her fancy velvet dress and wondered what Trevena would have to say about that ensemble. But there was really nothing else she could wear—her woad dress was stained in blood, her work frock was in patches, and her poor robe was now good for little more than rags. She consoled herself by trying to imagine it would make her more charming, for whatever that was worth.

The Iron Throne seemed to have recovered from the incident the day before although Anna noticed significantly fewer carriages in the stable. Still the guards let her in and she managed to corral a passing servant to ask about Sarevok Anchev. The irritated man disappeared for a time, then bid her to follow him upstairs. He knocked on a chamber door then ushered Anna inside before vanishing again. Anna tried to smile but she was taken aback realising the room was Sarevok's bedchamber.

"I apologise for this," Anchev said. "But I haven't yet finished my toilet, and I thought there was a degree of familiarity between us."

Anna murmured something that she didn't entirely hear. Sarevok was dressed at least, wearing his trousers and a silken tunic. But with his muscular form the clothes clung to him in a way that left little to the imagination. He turned back to the glass and continued working on his appearance.

"I know what you are thinking though—yes, it is rather late for me to rise. Dealing with that affair of yesterday kept me rather busy, as you could imagine. I needed to work late into the night to compensate."

"There are not many with your devotion to business," Anna said.

"True enough. Which is also why there aren't many with our degree of success."

He finished combing his hair and turned from the mirror with a smile.

"But I am most pleased to see you here. In truth I wasn't expecting you at all."

"Well, I agreed to take the job," she said to the carpet. "And I don't like backing away from a promise."

"Now, if all who worked for me had the same ethic we'd have conquered the coast by now!" Sarevok said merrily. The words sent a slight jolt through Anna but she tried to hide it.

He busied himself at the wardrobe and she glanced around the room. The decor was heavy with mahogany wood and deep crimson furnishings that virtually dripped with luxury. A massive bed dominated the chamber, with its towering wooden half-canopy seeming something like a mouth. It hadn't been made up and she thought there were the impressions of two forms in the plump feathers.

But one object did strike her as odd; it stood out from the heavy masculine furnishings like a dancer in a room full of sailors. A flowing statue of a maiden stood on a table, carved from pale marble and decorated with gold and mother-of-pearl. The maiden glanced over her shoulder as she raised the hem of her delicate robe, seeming unawares of the rabbits or small dogs that frolicked at her feet. Anna moved closer to examine it and started at the sound of Sarevok's voice behind her.

"Are you fond of it?" he asked.

"It's beautiful," she stammered in reply.

"Yes, I suppose it is. But I've been meaning to remove it for some time."

His voice had something of a dry tone to it. Anna glanced at him and looked back to the statue.

"I can't imagine why. I've never seen anything quite like it—the style is very unique."

"Just an old thing. No real value to it," he said rather brusquely.

He turned away but Anna wondered why he should keep such a thing in a prominent spot if he had no regard for it. It stood nearly at the foot of the bed, not in some out of the way corner.

"Is it from Kara-Tur?" Anna found herself asking.

"You have an eye for art. It is indeed," Sarevok called over.

"Then it must have value," she continued. "I've heard artefacts from those lands are highly sought by collectors."

"If you desire it, then by all means take it with you. I have little interest in such things. My father bought it as I recall, an impulsive purchase from some travelling merchant whore."

His words sent another start through Anna, but this time because of their obvious insincerity. In spite of his efforts to hide it that statue clearly meant something to Sarevok. She supposed there must be truth in the rumours about that Tamoko woman, after all.

"Well, if you are ready?" he said.

Sarevok set on his cap but his words were still brusque. He made an effort to smile graciously and she did her best to return the gesture.

"Yes, I'm looking forward to seeing what Trevena has in store for me today," she said.

"Actually, I had something else in mind," Sarevok replied. "I do not think there is much for you to do in the warehouse today, and your gown is certainly too fine for you to associate with the rough men who work there."

...

He smiled again but Anna felt her cheeks getting hot. Still she took his offered arm and he led her into an area of the compound she wasn't familiar with. It was on the ground floor and the walls were almost plain for that place, hosting little decoration at all. Sarevok drew open a heavy wooden door and Anna followed him inside.

She looked around in surprise finding herself in none other than a mage's workroom. And such a workroom it was—shelves of books rose up to the ceiling and alchemical equipment of the best quality glittered in the light from the fire. Another wall held enough jars of herbs and components to outmatch most apothecaries in the city. It was spacious and grand and Anna found it hard to fight off a greedy desire for possession.

For one brief moment she entertained thoughts of working there, but the little vision vanished as a woman appeared from a chamber in the back. Cythandria looked equally surprised to see her but she donned her best false smile for the occasion.

_"Anna! _Oh my dear, this is unexpected. How good of you to visit me in my little sanctum. Sarrie never told me to expect company, but he does love his little surprises."

Her words had a rather sharp edge aimed towards Sarevok but he ignored them with a frown.

"Quite. I was not expecting Anna to call myself, but since she has come looking for employment I thought it only right to put her to use. She is most loyal to return after the attack yesterday."

"Of course you are right," Cythandria said. "And _oh, _wasn't that just the most horrible thing? I wasn't here at the time, thankfully—I should have fainted dead away! How did you ever manage it, my dear? You are far braver than I could _ever_ be."

She squeezed Anna's hands but something in the falsely companionable tone reminded her of the way Safana used to speak, and she fought hard to keep from scowling. Cythandria however took little notice.

"But it will be so much fun having another one of the girls here with me. We have a great deal of gossip to catch up on!"

"Yes," Anna somehow managed. "But I never realised you were a mage?"

"Ladies must have occupations_, _as I'm sure you must know," she smiled. "And growing up in Waterdeep it seemed foolish not to take advantage of the superior arcane instructors in the city. However, my mother has never entirely approved of my studies, even to the point of removing my books from the house without my knowing. Fortunately Sarevok was kind enough to create this workroom just for me."

_Kind indeed, _Anna thought—that workroom would make any of the spellcasters at Sorcerous Sundries go green in envy.

"Only the best for my darling Cythandria," he said flatly. "But if you two are settled then I shall leave you. I am late for a meeting with a pair of Turmish twins, which I fear is not nearly as interesting as it may sound. Good afternoon, my ladies."

His mood seemed to improve as he grinned at his jest, and he gave his intended a polite kiss before leaving them behind. Cythandria dusted the sleeves of her gold-trimmed robe and watched him depart with a slight frown.

"So, what have you been working on?" Anna forced herself to say.

_"Hm? _Oh, many things. Always one project or another has grabbed my fancy," she replied lightly.

Anna could almost hear the words _leave here now _buried in her tone but she ignored them.

"I know how that is," she said. "But I'm surprised Sarevok asked for my aid when he had someone of magical talent so close to hand."

"You don't really think I'd set foot in that warehouse, do you?" Cythandria rebuked her. "Those men are one step away from dogs, whether up or down is debatable."

She went to a heavy book that was sitting open on a lectern and began thumbing through the pages as if Anna wasn't in the room. For her part she wished she wasn't.

"Well, I should be quite happy to help you in any way I can. Although...would you happen to have a spare robe? My own has been utterly ruined."

Cythandria looked annoyed but she gestured to the chamber behind her.

"Yes, I have many robes. There is a wardrobe in the back room—take the orange one, if you would. I hardly ever wear it."

The back chamber proved to be a sitting room of sorts, albeit one still stocked with books and magical paraphernalia. Anna found the robe in question and pulling it over her dress she realised why Cythandria rarely wore it—the garment matched the colour of a ripe pumpkin with such accuracy that it seemed more fit for the dining table. But beggars couldn't be choosers and she forced herself back into the workroom.

"So, what would you have me do?" Anna asked.

She tried so hard to feign an air of cheerfulness it almost made her face hurt. Cythandria on the other hand had dropped all pretence.

"Oh, I don't know. You're an alchemist, aren't you? I burnt some blueleaf tree sap into a retort on one of my recent projects—you might see if you can get it clean."

Anna frowned as she turned away from the woman, but reminded herself there were far worse things she could be scraping from the bottom of a beaker. Still she wondered what Cythandria had been trying to concoct—the bright azure sap had an almost sickening acrid odour not related to any tree favoured by the elves.

...

"I am sorry if I've put you out," Anna found herself saying. "I know it can be an inconvenience when people turn up when you're trying to work."

"Oh, that's quite alright," Cythandria replied, sounding more sociable than before. "I suppose I am in something of a mood today. But here, watch this."

Anna turned from the retort in time to see the woman begin an incantation. The air began to ripple and Anna stood back wondering what she had summoned. The bare torso of a man appeared out of the mist, legless except for the ether. He glared at Cythandria with eyes like coals and spoke in a booming voice.

"You have summoned the _djinn_. What is it you would seek, mortal?"

Cythandria glanced at Anna and a crooked grin appeared on her mouth.

"We could use some entertainment, genie. Bring me a slave, a male one."

Anna could only stare and wondered what the woman was playing at. Summoning a genie was risky at the best of times and to call one for such a frivolous request almost certainly spelled trouble. But Cythandria seemed entirely unfazed and the genie bowed and vanished.

Another mist filled the air in his place and Anna's fears grew as she smelled the stench of sulphur. She stepped back as another creature appeared, this one in the form of a copper-skinned man. Man or fiend—two half-moon horns grew from his black hair and a coppery tail whipped in agitation behind him. He saw the two women regarding him and let out a hiss.

"You...wenches...this is the Prime? What binds have you placed me under?"

The man struggled as if bound by invisible chains, but Cythandria merely clapped her hands together and laughed.

"A tiefling! How exquisite. You are our slave, demon-child. What do you think of that?"

He smiled at her, a sinister, feral smile that only one of fiendish blood could manage. A frightening aura vibrated off the man and Anna's breath caught in her throat. Was Cythandria insane? The gods only knew what that creature was capable of.

"Free me, woman, and I will show you," the tiefling responded.

"No, not just yet. You are much more appealing to me bound. See how he struggles?" Cythandria said to Anna. "Such a fine, sculpted form. But perhaps that is something to try. Remove your clothes, demon, and I will turn you to stone. You will make a delightful conversation piece for the garden!"

The tiefling clearly thought little of that but he had no choice. He swore at them as he disrobed in a mixture of Common and a tongue Anna thankfully wasn't familiar with. She had no idea if Cythandria planned to go through with her threat, but she didn't want to find out.

"What are you doing?" she said loudly. "This is mad. Stop this, now."

Cythandria only gave her a mischievous look. "Why, did you want him for yourself? How rude of me not to consider my guest. Very well—demon, this woman is yours. Do what you will."

Whatever bonds held the tiefling seemed to vanish and he turned to Anna with bright bronze eyes. A twisted smile appeared on his face and he leaped for her like a cat onto a mouse. Anna let out a terrified cry, shutting her eyes as she tried to summon whatever protections her frightened brain could manage. She expected to feel the sharp rake of his claws onto her skin at any second, but when she opened her eyes nothing was there but an impatient-looking Cythandria.

"Oh, calm _down," _she said. "You didn't truly think that creature was a threat, did you?"

"Didn't think...?" Anna sputtered. "Are you completely mad? He could have torn me limb from limb!"

She wiped her sweating brow and tried to draw breath again. Cythandria though waved her off with a hand.

_"Pish_, I had him in my power at every moment. Do you mean to tell me you never summon creatures when bored? Back home it was something of a party trick. You truly do lead a dull life," she concluded.

_"Dull!" _Anna shot back, but she found it hard to continue. Her heart was pounding so fast it felt like bursting.

Cythandria began to reply but they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"That will be the guards, no doubt. I shall just have to tell them you saw a mouse..._enter!"_

The door drew open but no guard stood there; a servant entered with Finn in tow, and Anna felt she'd never been happier to see him.

"Afternoon. Everything all right in here? This place smells of rotten eggs," he remarked.

"Yes. We're fine," Anna breathed. "Just some...magic. But what are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I hate to break up your work," Finn said rather half-heartedly. "But we've had a bit of news so I came to collect you."

"Oh? Anything of interest?" Cythandria asked.

She put on her charm again and moved towards Finn with a flirtatious little smile, one he didn't return.

"Nope. Just something personal, you understand," he said shortly.

_"Ah. _A cryptic man, I see," she replied. "But it is terribly disappointing that you have to steal Anna away just as we were starting to have some fun. Perhaps you'd like to stay for lunch? Sarevok should be finished with his tiresome meetings before long—and if not, we can just begin without him."

She laughed lightly and tossed her head. Anna groaned inwardly—she was beginning to understand Sarevok's limited patience with the woman.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Finn replied. "Just give him our best, aye? We'll be seeing you."

...

Anna barely had time to remove the gourd-coloured robe and say goodbye before Finn herded her out of the room. She was more than happy to leave but she could barely wait to ask for the real reason of his visit.

"Has something really happened?" she asked as they left the compound.

"You might say that," Finn replied. "But I'll fill you in after we get to the Golden Hind. The others are waiting."

"Alright. I can't say I'm sorry to be finished with that place. What is _wrong _with that woman?" Anna grumbled.

"Why, what did she do? Your face is red as a beet," he said.

"Never mind," she replied through clenched teeth.

Finn didn't respond and they walked together in silence. She began to wonder if he were still angry at her for that morning, but now she just found his childish reaction annoying. He hadn't even bothered to give her a kiss and he walked some distance from her side.

They found the group, minus Edmund gathered in Xan's chamber. The spare bedchamber door was shut and Anna assumed he was in there resting.

"Well, here we are," she said, warming her hands at the fire. "What is all this about?"

"It's just kind of...something," Finn muttered.

Anna turned to look at him but noticed his eyes were on Xan, who sat in a chair reading for a change. He'd barely glanced at either of them as they came in and now sat reading as though he were entirely alone.

"Didn't Finn tell you?" Jaheira asked. "Edmund was determined to see Duke Silvershield this morning, and though I tried to convince him otherwise he ventured to his estate. His father and the Duke were friends, you must know. He has not returned but we received a summons to see the Duke with no delay. We would have left by now but Finn was insistent we find you first."

"Yeah, I just...didn't like you being alone up there," he replied, scratching the back of his neck in a distracted way.

Anna stared at him blankly but Jaheira spoke again.

"It is just as well—being on your own at the Iron Throne isn't wise. But if you are ready we should depart," she said.

She and Khalid gathered up their cloaks but the elves apparently intended to stay behind. Anna said farewell to Kivan as he was the only one likely to respond, and followed the others out the door.

...

Finn seemed to walk with more animation than before and Anna took him by the arm.

"Were you looking to see how Xan reacted to me just then?" she asked.

The idea made her cheeks colour but his expression couldn't deny it.

"Yeah, I guess I was. I'm sorry. I just wanted to be sure, you know?"

He slipped his arm around her shoulders but Anna didn't feel in a mood to be comforted.

"I can't believe you," she exclaimed. "Did you really think it wasn't me? I never thought twice about you."

"Then maybe you should have," Finn said grimly.

Anna stared at him. "I know all this is frightening, but you can't...we can't go doubting each other every time we walk in the door. Or were you planning on sticking me with a pin every time we meet?"

"Of course not," he said quickly. "Just, with everything...it just makes me nervous, alright?"

"Fine. Fine. Never mind," she replied.

Jaheira and Khalid seemed to have noticed their arguing and they looked back at the two of them. Anna's feet moved on but her eyes stayed firmly rooted on the cobblestones.

"I am sorry," Finn said. "I didn't _really _think—"

"Let's just leave it, shall we?" she remarked.

He fell quiet but Anna's own agitation grew. Not so much from what Finn did, from but the thought he might have been right. With those monsters around how could they be certain any of them were who they appeared to be? But that was a mad, paranoid thought, and she tried her best to drive it away.

...

Duke Silvershield had apparently been shaken enough by Edmund's revelations that he didn't bother to arrange a clandestine meeting, and his note only encouraged them to ring at the estate's tradesmen entrance. A servant led them into a small drawing room that faced onto the back garden. Edmund lay on a sofa, dressed once again in fine clothes, but they seemed too large to be his. His face was still pale and it bore the marks of the rats' treatment in spite of Jaheira's healing.

The Duke paced the floor in front of the fireplace but paused when they entered the room. He dismissed the servant and bolted the door behind him.

"At last, you've arrived. I was beginning to wonder if you'd received my note at all," he said.

"Our apologies, your grace," Jaheira said. "But we needed to locate another member of our group before we could depart."

"Not more trouble, I hope?" he asked anxiously.

"No, my lord, no trouble," she replied.

"That is good. I truly don't know how much more of it I could take this morning. I am a military man and have seen a great deal in my time, but I do not feel ashamed in telling you that Edmund's tale has shaken me to the core. It seems too fanciful to believe."

The Duke poured out goblets of wine for them, and Anna thought she could see his hands shaking.

"We f-feel much the s-same, your grace," Khalid said. "B-but there can be no d-doubt."

"If only there were," the Duke replied, taking a swallow of wine. "I confess I know little of these creatures myself so I conferred with one of the court mages. He told me these doppelgangers are normally solitary in habit, hostile even to their own kind. That a coven of them might be operating in the city is quite extraordinary. It does not bode well for us."

"You think there's more of them, sir?" Finn asked.

"I fear there may be, and that their poison may well have leeched into the highest levels of our government," Silvershield said ominously.

"But you don't mean...Duke Eltan?" Anna said.

"My good lady, that is my fear. It would seem to fit perfectly in many respects. But the High Duke has been repeatedly examined by our best enchanters. If he were one of these creatures it surely would have been exposed by now."

He began pacing again, running a hand through his grey-flecked hair.

"They bleed green, we know that," Finn remarked.

"And I have seen Eltan's blood myself, when his inept physician placed the leeches on him," Duke Silvershield said. "It was as red as mine. And I can hardly ask that he cut himself for our benefit!"

"Perhaps he would if he understood the need," Jaheira said. "I would not hesitate to do so."

"No, but you are not Caruthar Eltan," the Duke sighed. "He is a fine leader, and as good a man as you may ever find. But he is proud. I cannot just confront him with this, not based on nothing more than idle suspicion."

"Have you informed the other Dukes of this affair?" the druid asked.

"Not yet. Foolish as it may sound, I find myself doubting them as well. Seeing how amenable they have been to this Anchev...but Eltan has a way of bending the others to his way of thinking. They may merely be agreeing with him to avoid arguments."

The Duke paused and sighed. He stared down at the fire, his square shoulders now sagging and drooped. In spite of his fine and noble face the weight of troubles was showing his age.

"Well, we haven't got anything more on Sarevok," Finn admitted. "He seems to be all business. And only the demons know what Rieltar was really getting up to."

"Like father, like son if you ask me," Edmund finally spoke. "I never trusted Sarevok and neither did Mother. He's slippery as his father was, just more pleasant about it."

"What would you have us do, your grace?" Jaheira said.

_"Ah_, this talk will be the destruction of us all," he groaned. "I must confide in the other Dukes—I have a duty to do so. But this must be kept secret as possible. Eltan must know nothing of these allegations. And the city already stands on a knife edge, if rumours of shapeshifters were to begin to circulate... Continue as you are for now. I will speak with the others and let you know if any decisions have been reached."

...

A gentle rap sounded on the door. The Duke jumped slightly but called out for the knocker to enter before realising it was locked. He drew open the door to see Skie standing there, looking pale and rather ill in her dark, sombre gown.

"Pardon me, Father," she said, curtseying to him. "I know you said you didn't wish to be disturbed, but I'd wondered if Edmund felt up to a light luncheon."

"Not just now, Skie," he replied, not bothering to ask the young man's opinion. "We still have business to discuss. Is your aunt in the library? Wait with her there until we are finished. We should not be another half hour, I would think."

"Of course, Father. We will wait for you. But...if it is possible, might I speak with Lady Anna?" Skie said, leaning around her father to get a view of the company. "She knows a great deal about fashion and I would like her opinion on a dress."

Duke Silvershield seemed vaguely irritated at her request but Skie spoke with that tone used by girls the land over to bend their father's will, and he agreed. Anna excused herself from the group and followed Skie upstairs in curiosity. The Duke's daughter must know more about fashion than she could ever hope, and she'd hardly want a consultation.

They entered her bedchamber and Anna was surprised to see that a gown was indeed on display. It was a dirt-brown silk cut high in the collar and long in the sleeves, and the only embellishment it sported was a delicate piping of lace around the cuffs. Skie shut the door behind them and gestured to the gown in despair.

"Isn't it just _hideous? _Aunt Deona had the dressmaker craft that poisonous frock for me. I shall look like a matron and nothing else!"

"It's rather plain," Anna agreed, though she still wondered why Skie should wish to share her humiliation with her.

"And after everything that's happened, too. I don't know how I can bear it. Oh help me, but I don't."

Skie pulled a handkerchief from her dress pocket and began wiping her eyes as she paced the floor, gesturing as if the words were too much to form.

"It is horrible," Anna said soberly. "It must have been such a shock to learn the news."

"Oh, terrible, terrible!" Skie sobbed. "Everything was just so happy, then it all came crashing down like the blow of an executioner's axe. So fickle is fate. My heart is breaking, you cannot know."

She threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in her arms, oblivious to the muddy looking silk that lay there. Anna gently removed the garment then sat down next to her.

"No, I can't imagine how hard this must be. I'm sorry, that's all I can say. I wish there was something we could have done."

"Oh, there's nothing anyone could have done," Skie wailed into the bed. "I don't know how Papa found out! But he summoned me into his study...and then...and then..."

Her words were interrupted by a very unladylike snort as she rose up and tried to clean her nose.

"But, Edmund must have told him..." Anna began, somewhat confused.

"Edmund! But he didn't..._oh_, no, I am speaking of Eldoth!"

"Eldoth?"

"Yes," Skie choked again. "Father forced me to break it off with him. I've been in despair ever since...but you didn't know?"

Anna felt like slapping the girl hard across both cheeks, but she only shook her head.

"No. I thought you were talking about the Jhassos!"

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "Another tragedy, my life is so full of them now. That was just horrible beyond words...I can hardly comprehend. Poor, poor Celia! I know they've been murdered but Father won't tell me anything else. Was it robbers?" she said breathlessly. "I live in mortal dread of robbers. Imagine, armed brigands bursting into your home..."

She broke off to blow her nose again and Anna used her chance to change the subject.

"It's difficult to say. But your father drove off Eldoth?"

"Yes. He swore that I would never see him again! I've practically been a prisoner here since then. I can't go out calling and Aunt Deona must accompany me if I go shopping. But the worst of all is that Father said he'd make sure Eldoth left town...and I cannot even speak with him! I wanted to sneak out at night but they've put more guards in the garden. I am in _despair!" _she wailed again.

Anna had little idea what to say. She could hardly feel sorry that the unsavoury fellow had been driven away, but her own guilt in the affair pricked at her. And in spite of her dramatics Skie seemed obviously heartbroken over it all.

"Well...I have heard rumours about him," she began, gently as possible.

"What sort of rumours?" Skie snapped.

_"Well..."_ Anna hesitated.

"Oh, you don't need to answer. I'll bet Papa told you, didn't he? He always enjoys slandering Eldoth. But I knew all about that lady in Waterdeep. Eldoth himself told me—he was very much in love but her father was prejudiced against his poor background the same as mine. He wandered in despair, heartbroken, until at last he came to Baldur's Gate. And then he met _me. _I lifted his heart again, he said. I think it is beautifully romantic, and I hold nothing against him for loving another before me. I don't entertain any foolish maiden's ideals, you see."

"Clearly not," Anna replied, though she hoped her face didn't betray her thoughts.

"But that is why I truly asked you up here," Skie said, leaping from the bed.

She went over to her desk and lifted out a drawer, then pulled out a letter than had been hidden there. She brought it to Anna and laid it in her grasp.

"I'd hoped to bribe one of the servants into taking this, but I fear they would be too easily influenced by Father. But I know I can trust you. Please, _please _take this to Eldoth. I don't know if he's even still in the city, but I must try. You will, won't you? Oh, please do."

Skie implored her with large brown eyes that were now red and puffy. Anna turned the sealed letter over in her hands.

"You want me to take this to Eldoth?" she repeated.

"Yes. He's taken a room in the Elfsong as he performs there so much. _Please. _It would mean so much to me."

"Well, I...what sort of letter is it?" Anna replied, sounding rather foolish.

"A love letter, that is all. A letter telling him of my undying affection," Skie said quickly. "Please, Father need never know. Just take it to him, that's all I ask. But we shouldn't stay up here too long or he might get suspicious."

"I'll...see if I can find him, then."

Skie seemed delighted with Anna's half-hearted promise and she grasped her hands warmly. Anna tucked the letter well into her bodice and the two women ventured back downstairs.

On entering the parlour they found Duke Silvershield had gone. Anna felt rather relieved—she felt guilty with the clandestine correspondence crinkling slightly inside her dress. At least this way she didn't need to look him in the eye.

"Duke Silvershield has gone on to the palace," Jaheira remarked. "And we should head back to the inn."

"Are you coming as well?" Anna asked Edmund.

"No," he said grimly. "Silvershield was good enough to volunteer some of his guards to take me back to the house. I need to..."

Edmund broke off but Anna knew what he meant.

"That means it will be just Deona and I at lunch," Skie said in a forlorn voice.

"I'm sorry, Skie. But I don't really feel up to eating much right now," Edmund replied.

He leaned forward on the sofa and grasped his hair in his hands. Skie drew a breath and nodded.

"Nor do I. But then I shall bid you all fond farewell. And _good luck," _she added with a knowing glance at Anna. Fortunately none seemed to notice.

...

Anna and Finn spent the next few hours in the Golden Hind's common room. The honey roasted pork they ordered was tender and savoury-sweet but Anna couldn't much enjoy it. Amongst all their other troubles Skie's letter wore on her conscience. Should she deliver it, or not? She certainly had no time to be searching the city for that bard. No time and no inclination either; for all her youthful heartbreak Skie would be far better off without a man such as him. But she'd made a promise, weak as it was. Finn seemed to notice her difficulties and looked at her.

"Not hungry?" he asked.

"I suppose not," she sighed.

"Well, you either are or you aren't," Finn replied, and Anna glanced up to see a teasing grin on his face.

"You've made up for me, though—you've picked yours down to the bone," she said, a little smile slipping out in return.

"It's not often we get to eat like this. No offence," he added quickly.

"None taken. If I see another bowl of pottage I just might retch!"

_"Oi, _you mind—I'm eating here," he said in mock-disgust. Anna pursed her lips and tossed a crust of bread his way.

"Cheers. I'll have that and all!"

Anna had to laugh as he made short work of the bread. Finn gave her a warm look and turned his attention back to his plate.

The tavern door opened and a man stepped inside, bringing a chilly breeze into the warm common room. Anna sat up straighter realising he wore the uniform of a Ducal Palace guard. He paid no attention to the pair of them and tromped up the stairs. Anna and Finn waited, wondering, until the man came back downstairs and disappeared again into the street.

They rose up from the table but three cloaked figures descended before they even reached the steps.

"We are going to the palace," Jaheira said from under her hood.

They needed no prompting. Finn tossed a few coins onto the table while Anna fetched their cloaks. Khalid was there as well, but she was rather surprised to see Xan.

"He's coming with us?" Anna said quietly to Jaheira.

"Yes. I think perhaps...he may be useful," she replied.

Anna nodded and the five of them hurried from the inn. They arrived at the palace in short time and were ushered up the usual bewildering number of stairs and corridors. The room they finally entered didn't look like the sort used for public audiences—it was cramped and devoid of windows, and something in the faces of the Dukes that waited there didn't look sociable. Anna was surprised to see Eltan amongst them, and wondered what it could mean.

"We have come as soon as we could," Jaheira said, giving a polite little bow to Duke Silvershield.

"Indeed, but it wasn't Entar who summoned you. I thought you should be witness to this little trial as well."

Anna stiffened as Duke Eltan addressed them in his gravely tones. Finn saluted his commander and the Duke nodded back.

"As I am to understand, there has been some _concern _about me, the nature of which I still don't fully appreciate. But I will never tolerate any man doubting my leadership," Duke Eltan continued.

Duke Silvershield likewise seemed stiffer than normal, and he spoke with even more formality.

"And as I assured you, I never once intended to question your leadership. But given these extraordinary events—"

"Forget it, Entar, you're as skittish as we all are these days," Duke Belt interrupted. "But the gods know if we start turning on each other we're good as gone."

He fiddled with his spectacle chain as always, but there seemed more anxiety in the motion than bored distraction.

"Yes, and that is why I informed Caruthar of your concerns," Duchess Jannath said. "We must stand together in this."

"Quite right, too," Duke Eltan said. "I'm not blaming you, Silvershield. We're in a tight spot now, all of us. But I'd have thought we've been friends for enough years that you wouldn't need to hide something like this from me. I'm disappointed, I have to say that."

Duke Silvershield's eyes snapped. "And I have been your friend, Caruthar. A friend is not afraid to question his comrade's judgement, however awkward that may be. Mute obedience should be left to servants."

"And are you accusing us of such things, then?" the Duchess exclaimed. "I've never blindly followed any man and I'm certainly not now."

She whirled on the Duke with a look that would have made the burliest of sailors back away.

"Perhaps not. But I feel we have been far too trusting of certain elements in our midst, and with war brewing it cannot continue," Silvershield replied.

"That's rich!" Belt snorted. "Aren't you the one who's had adventurers spying for you? You all but admitted it to us. How are we to know what else you've got hidden up your sleeves?"

Anna could only stare as the three continued bickering. She'd gladly have melted into the floor, but the High Duke held up his hand.

"Enough! This accomplishes nothing. Such dirty laundry is better aired in private. If you have tests for me, Silvershield, then proceed. Whatever will satisfy your mind, I'm willing to do."

Anna looked at Xan; the enchanter stood with his hands folded and seemed calm as anything as he regarded the far wall. Jaheira spoke to him.

"Xan, do you...?"

He was quiet for another moment, then finally spoke.

"I sense nothing here. There is nothing at all."

He turned and gazed hard at the High Duke. Eltan faced down his stare without flinching, and Xan turned away with a sigh.

Duke Silvershield looked as though he didn't know what to think. Clearly he couldn't have hoped that the High Duke was a changeling, but in some ways Anna knew that would be the easiest outcome to deal with.

"There is another test, isn't there?" Eltan said. "Very well, then. Look upon this if you will."

He pulled his dagger from its sheath, and Anna flinched as he stabbed it without hesitation into his open palm. A trickle of red blood began to flow and Eltan held it up to them all.

"Are you satisfied now, Entar? Or are there more proofs you'd like to see?"

"That's enough for me," Belt said with a grimace. "Now if you wouldn't mind bandaging that up? Call me soft if you like but I never did care for the sight of blood."

"I'm satisfied," Jannath said quietly.

Duke Silvershield looked at Eltan for a moment, but he lowered his eyes.

"I am satisfied as well. Forgive me, Caruthar."

"There's nothing to forgive," the High Duke said. "I can understand your worries. But next time be man enough to come to me directly."

Silvershield drew upright but whatever retort was on his lips he kept it to himself.

"Well, then. Now that that unpleasantness is behind us, I'd like to be on my way. I'm certain we all have duties calling to us," Duke Eltan said, wrapping his bleeding palm in a handkerchief. "I trust you're prepared for militia duty, Lieutenant? I expect you'll have your hands quite full."

"Yes, sir," Finn replied.

"Good. And one final thing, Entar—I'd appreciate it if you'd keep from using my Fist as your own private espionage force. It doesn't reflect too well on us. Good day to you all."

With that the High Duke departed, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind.

"Here's hoping we don't need to repeat this again," Duke Belt muttered. "I'd best be on my way, too."

"Yes. I am sorry, Entar," Jannath said in a tone of reconciliation. "I never meant to cause you embarrassment with all this. But Belt was right for a change—we do need to stand together. If there's more of these creatures running around the city, we'll find them. But now we just need to focus on the facts."

"You are right, Duchess," Silvershield replied, but his face looked no less grim.

Belt and Jannath made their way from the room but Duke Silvershield remained behind, that heavy, worried expression still on his face.

"Your reasoning was sound, your grace, even if the result did not hold true," Jaheira tried to reassure him.

"Thank you, madam. Perhaps that will be of some comfort to me in the future. I do thank you for all you have done, but there seems little purpose in your pursuing this trail further. The palace shall look into it as an official matter, which would have been better in the first," he said. "But now I have other duties to attend. Good afternoon."

Silvershield bowed politely if briefly, then left them behind as well. Anna could feel the heat of the Duke's belittlement herself and she felt sorry for the man. Sorry for him, and for themselves. What else was left for them to do?

"I suppose we should get back to the house," Finn said slowly. "I've got to report in tomorrow morning, and my equipment could use a once-over."

"Yes, I suppose so," Jaheira replied, though her voice sounded distant.

"P-perhaps an early night w-would suit us as well," Khalid said to her.

"Yes," she said again, though her eyes were on Xan.

The elf stood biting at his thumb, looking deep in thought. He glanced up at them, drew a breath and spoke.

"The snow will fall soon."

"Brilliant," Finn muttered. "Come on love, let's get home."

Anna tried to smile for him and she took his hand, but he seemed too distracted to smile or talk much on the journey back.

...

They made love that night for the first time in a long while, their bodies clinging to one another like the shipwrecked to a plank of wood. Anna could feel that desperation building between them, something they both felt but words couldn't express. Everything seemed lost, inevitable, but in spite of that they had each other. Caught up in her passion Anna felt that more keenly than she ever could, and when her eyes met Finn's she knew he felt the same. There was one rock at least, one shelter left from the tempest.

Anna awoke the next morning to see Finn dressing by candlelight. She stirred and he leaned down over the bed.

"Sorry to wake you," he said, giving her a kiss. "But I couldn't really see much without the light."

"That's alright. It's getting dark in the mornings now," she yawned.

Anna watched as he finished dressing and slipped into his chainmail shirt. He drew the crimson jerkin on over the metal and fastened on his belt. Slowly he took up his sword and set it into the fastenings.

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked.

"No thanks, there'll be a tasty pot of gruel at base. I'd better get moving—it'll be a busy day and the captain wants us there with bells on. Have to look good for the public and all that."

Anna smiled a little and he came and sat on the bed.

"Just promise me you'll stay away from the Throne, alright? I think I'd have some sort of nervous fit worrying about you up there."

"Don't worry, I won't be going up there anytime soon," she sighed. "Like the Duke says there really isn't much point."

"Aye. I suppose not," Finn said. He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and kissed her again. "Well, I'd better be off. I'll probably be back late tonight as well, so don't wait for me if you're hungry."

"Alright," Anna said, and she rose up to take advantage of another kiss before he left her alone.

It was early yet; the cocks were crowing in distant gardens and the thin grey light of dawn was just beginning to colour the curtain. Anna lay in bed awhile longer, curled up amongst the blankets. Finn had built up the fire and there was no real reason for her to get up, but neither could she sleep. She rose and drew on her faded work frock then helped herself to some breakfast porridge.

Flat grey clouds covered the city, and looking out the window Anna wondered if Xan's meaningless prophecy would come true. A drive gripped her that morning though, one not too different from an animal hoarding before the winter's frost. She counted out Finn's wages from the strong box under the bed, marking up a tally of what they'd need to last until next month. He earned a fair salary but she worried that rising prices and their own penchant for unexpected purchases might leave their pockets threadbare again.

But she knew times would worsen before they got better, so she gathered up her coins and went out into the cold markets. She wasn't the only one with such a mission and she found herself jostled at every turn. The markets were busy as an elf-day but the merchants assured her that their lads would have her goods delivered that afternoon.

...

Coming out of the baker's she paused and looked out at the street. Even the peddlers with their carts of bruised, half-priced vegetables were doing a great trade. Little wonder—as she passed by a pair of men standing on a tavern step she overheard a tale that made her throat tighten.

_"It's true, I tell ya. Me mate heard it from a guard who works the caravans. Amn's been attacking villages in the south, just slaughtering folks with no regard at all. Saying they're on Amnish soil! The Dukes did their best to cover it up but they couldn't hide it no more."_

_"Rubbish, that is! The city'd never stand for that. The guard must have had one too many."_

_"Believe what you like, then. But I heard the Dukes was going to give them all the land up to Beregost, maybe even throwing that in as well. Cowards they are, willing to do anything to stop a war!"_

The less Anna heard of that conversation the better, and she forced herself on. Her basket was heavy and she looked forward to putting her feet up at home. But as she passed by an alley a strange hiss caught her attention.

_"Please, mistress—alms?"_

Anna turned to tell the beggar she had no coin, but she stopped in surprise. A well-bundled figure stood there and something about the accent struck her as familiar.

"Why, are you—" Anna began.

She didn't have time to answer. The figure grasped her hard by the arm and dragged her into the alley with surprising strength. Anna struggled between the grip and her heavy basket but she didn't cry out. It was instinct only but she had a feeling that person meant her no harm.

"No guards," the figure said. She pulled down her hood, and Anna once again found Tamoko's strange eyes regarding her with that iron look.

"No guards," Anna repeated. "But why are you here?"

"I wanted to speak. I have words for you," the woman replied.

She glanced around the alley warily, as if even the fat orange tomcat who gazed at the women might prove a threat. But the cat wandered away and Tamoko spoke.

"You can understand. You know. You know what it is like."

"No, I don't..." Anna said, confused by the woman's cryptic speech. "What do you mean?"

"You _do _know," Tamoko insisted. "You love an...an _angry _man too. With the bad anger inside. I know who you are, I have seen you. No one notices me but I see many things. I have seen your husband, too. And I know."

"Know _what?" _she said. The woman's declaration made her rather nervous.

Tamoko let out an agitated noise as if she were trying to relay a point to a dimwit.

"Anger. You know what I mean. We have this in common, so I will speak. You have been to see Sarevok. He is a very angry man, that is true. But he is not...wicked. The anger—it eats at him. It eats into his mind, it eats into his soul. He needs the goodness around him to drive away the bad. But now there is no goodness at all. Only the dark heart, only the anger stays behind. Do you understand?"

Anna wanted to. Those intense eyes were trying to express something important, of that she was sure.

"Why is he so angry?" she asked.

"It is in his blood," Tamoko responded.

"His father was wicked beyond a doubt. But Sarevok is his own man. It's his choice what path he wants to follow," Anna said.

"Rieltar was not his father!" the woman announced. "It is his blood that brings him such anger. It is the blood he must fight against, but he is failing now. I tried to help him but I could not. That anger touched me too. I lost my own, I was...abandoned. And now I have fallen as well."

Anna could only stare at the woman. If she didn't know better she'd have sworn they were the ramblings of a madwoman, but Tamoko did not seem insane. Why would she say Rieltar wasn't his father? And what did she mean about blood? Anna silently cursed the woman's poor Common and forced herself to speak.

"This is no place for us to talk. Please, my home is just a short walk from here. We could talk alone—"

"No, I must go," Tamoko said distractedly. "I wanted to warn you, to keep you from falling too. You understand. There is so much darkness now. I wanted... Do no harm to Sarevok, of that I beg. He must be brought back into the light."

_"How?" _Anna exclaimed, growing increasingly frustrated.

"No more words," Tamoko replied. "I must go."

She drew up her hood again and fled into the street. Anna slowly lowered her basket, watching her go. A turnip fell out and rolled slowly down the alley but she paid it no mind. That woman had answers, she knew it, but all she'd truly left behind were more questions.


	97. Domestic Disturbances

Anna wandered back to the house with her head buzzing like a beehive. What could that Tamoko woman possibly mean? All her rambling about blood... It was unsettling enough, but the fact that she put Finn and Sarevok into the same breath worried her even more. Finn had a temper for certain, but he had none of Rieltar's blood.

She was so distracted that she paid no attention to the fine carriage which was waiting outside the shabby gates. Only when a voice called out did she raise her head.

_"Lady Anna! _Do you hear me?"

Anna nearly dropped her basket seeing one of the figures which floated in her mind made flesh. Sarevok climbed down from his carriage and gave her a strange look.

"Forgive me for shouting. Are you well? You look as if you've seen a ghost," he said.

"No! No, I'm fine," Anna stammered.

"That is good. But it seems I caught you at just the right time. I understand if you are busy, but may I have a word?"

Anna couldn't really say no, so she allowed Sarevok to follow her up the stairs. She dropped her basket on the kitchen table and looked around the cluttered room with a sigh.

"I'm sorry about the state of the place," she said automatically. "Here, please sit."

She cleared a sack of spell components off a chair and offered the seat to him.

"You seem to have opened your own little alchemist's shop in here," Sarevok chuckled. "But I am fine with standing. I merely wanted to present you with a little token."

Anna noticed for the first time he held a parcel under his arm. It was wrapped in the most delicate paper, not the usual brown sort. She took it from him, surprised, and cut open the strings. Anna let out a gasp and drew out the garment with a blank stare.

"Is this for me?"

It was a silly thing to say but the words slipped out before she could stop them. She held in her hands an exquisite mage's robe. It was cut from sapphire and pale blue silk, and trimmed in runes of stormy silver grey. Anna could feel its enchantment even as she fingered the remarkable fabric.

"I did not bring it for Finn," Sarevok smiled. "But can I take by your reaction that it pleases you?"

_"Pleases _me?" Anna began, holding the robe up to her patched woollen frock. "It's beautiful. But I...this isn't one of Cythandria's robes, is it?"

Anchev let out a hearty laugh. "No, indeed! I value my life too much for that. I purchased it from an arcane clothier in the city. An elvish fellow, I'm told he does fine work."

"It's beautiful," she repeated. "But this must have cost a fortune. Why would you bring this for me?"

The words sounded rude but she was too dumbfounded to give him proper thanks. Sarevok though didn't seem to take any slight.

"You have been through a great deal of late, thanks in no small part to me. I only wished to express some of my gratitude. I hope I haven't overstepped my bounds?"

"No, no. I thank you for this. I'm just...surprised."

Not for the first time that day. She managed to give him a shaky little smile and draped the fine robe out onto the bed.

"You are welcome," Sarevok said. "And don't be concerned—I have no trouble in giving generously when it's deserved."

"Perhaps. But I hadn't thought myself deserving of such a gift," Anna remarked.

"I would beg to differ," he said. "But I'm sorry you had to leave so quickly yesterday. I hope there hasn't been some trouble?"

"No, nothing," she replied, her voice cracking a little. "I think Finn is still just a bit nervous about my being there. After everything that happened,you understand."

"Of course. I would think little differently myself. But I hope that doesn't mean you will be staying away permanently? I should be rather sorry if that were the case."

She turned around from the bed and looked at him. He wore a slight smile, but one she couldn't entirely fathom. Who was she to him? None of the others seemed so favoured. None but Finn, at least. Tamoko crept into her thoughts again and Anna nervously looked away.

"I am not making you uncomfortable in some way, am I?" he said quietly.

"No, of course not," she said hastily.

"Good. But I suppose I should take my leave. Is there a chance I might see you tomorrow? I can give Finn his reassurance that my compound is secure as it could possibly be."

"Perhaps, I don't know," Anna said distractedly. "But—would you like to stay for some wine?"

Where those words came from she had no idea. Sarevok seemed surprised as well but he smiled and nodded.

"Yes of course, if I'm not inconveniencing you. I should love to take wine."

...

Anna put the basket aside and poured out two cups of the only vintage they had. It might generously be called palatable but was nowhere near the quality served at the Iron Throne. Sarevok however was polite enough to pretend not to notice.

"I do want to thank you for the robe," Anna managed to say. "It is a remarkable gift. I'm sorry if I didn't seem appreciative."

"That's quite alright. Perhaps being used to a certain standard of living has coloured my judgement as to what is a typical gift."

He sipped at the acidic wine and Anna took a chance.

"If nothing else, I suppose your father would have provided you with a great deal of luxury in your youth," she remarked.

Sarevok scowled. _"Luxury_. A gilded prison, you mean. If you find our compound here to be impressive you should have seen our home in Sembia. No king that ever walked the land had a finer collection than my father. Anything of value he needed to possess. And all who dwelled in the house were also his possessions—just of lower value."

"I suppose luxury is relative," she agreed. "But I still cannot understand how a man could hold such little regard for his own son."

She choked out the words, hiding them in a swallow of wine. Sarevok's lip curled at the remark.

"I was no son to him, I was an object. He saw to it that I had the finest tutors and the training of the best men-at-arms, but he only did so that he might flaunt his superiority above the other men in Selgaunt. It was the same with my mother. He chose a woman of the greatest beauty and finest breeding he could find, but he held nothing but contempt for her in his heart."

"That is very sad," she said.

"If only not loving her was the worst of his crimes—but no. I do not wish to spoil this conversation with such talk," Sarevok said.

He put on that smile again and Anna looked down at the table.

"You may speak of it if you wish. I'd like to hear more about your mother."

She hoped that she'd spoken kindly, but Sarevok seemed to switch moods and he became slightly defensive again.

"There is little to tell. She was a prisoner, a dominated woman. But she showed me the danger of weakness, at least. Because of her I learned to fight against my father."

"What do you mean?" Anna asked.

By the slight twitch in his face she gathered his comment said more than he intended. He gripped his cup and took another swallow of wine.

"You wish to know? Very well. Rieltar murdered her. He accused her of having an affair—as though that hunted woman would ever dream of defying him. He strangled her on my own bed, in my chamber where she'd come to seek shelter from his rampage. I witnessed it all."

Anna stared at him. However wicked Rieltar had been, that was a revelation she never expected.

"But, how did..."

"How did he escape justice? Through the depth of his pockets, of course. He bribed an official to say that my mother took her own life. I knew the truth, but he beat me until he thought I'd forgotten."

"I don't...I'm sorry," she stammered.

Sarevok's eyes burned bright but his face was motionless.

"Do not be. It was one of a thousand other criminal acts my father committed in his life. If she had not been so weak then perhaps she would still be alive."

The coldness of his words struck her, but she wondered how much he meant them. His father, murdering his own mother before his very eyes... Anna could hardly process the horror of it. Was that what Tamoko meant? In the time they'd known him Sarevok never once implied he was not his father's son, not in blood at least. And she could think of no reason why he'd desire to keep up the pretence of relation to such a vile man if it was not true. Perhaps that was the point Tamoko had been trying to make. His blood, his father made him angry. Angry and dark.

"I hope I did not overly disturb you with my tale," Sarevok said, interrupting her thoughts.

"It is horrible," Anna managed to say.

"Yes, forgive me. I should not have related it. Perhaps I should take my leave now, having lowered the mood of this grey afternoon even more. But I would still be pleased if you would call tomorrow," he said. "Not as a hireling, but as a friend. Would you be willing?"

It seemed too hard a request to refuse, so she gave him her promises. Sarevok bowed and departed, and she lay with her head resting on the table for some time.

...

Finn returned after the grey daylight had faded from the sky. He found Anna sitting quietly at the table, staring into the fire.

"Ay up. Are you alright?" he asked, giving her a kiss.

"I'm fine," she replied, forcing herself to smile. "There's supper in the pot."

"Ah, brilliant!" Finn exclaimed, and wormed his way out of his uniform. "Starved, I am. Did you eat already?"

"Yes, some time ago."

It was a half-truth; Anna tried her bowl of pottage but it stuck too much in her throat. Finn eagerly went over to the pot and dipped himself up a bowlful of the vegetable mush.

"Got a hambone, I see," he remarked as he sat at the table. "That'll last a few days."

Anna murmured a reply but he fell silent as he sank deeper into the bowl. She let him eat, watching as he helped himself to a second and then a third portion.

"You are hungry," she said finally.

Finn shook his head. "Aye. Had us working all day, no time for a break. Been running drills in the square outside the Elfsong of all places."

"Elfsong!" Anna suddenly exclaimed.

"Yeah. Why, were you up that way?"

"No, just...thinking of our time there."

Finn nodded and looked back to his bowl. She hated to fib but she'd said nothing about Skie's letter to him or anyone, and the correspondence lay stashed where she'd hidden it in her pack.

"Nothing like trying to train a bunch of fat merchants and layabouts," he continued. "At least the farmer lads in Beregost had strong backs, but these fellows get out of breath after swinging a practice sword for five minutes. No use at all."

"Well, let's hope we won't need them," she sighed.

"Hope and pray," he agreed. "Did you get more ale, love?"

Anna rose up and fetched him a mug from the little cask by the cupboard. Finn drank it down as if it were water and wiped his face on his sleeve.

"That's better. So what did you do today?" he asked.

"Nothing really, just went to the markets," Anna replied.

Sarevok's fine robe was hidden away too; somehow she didn't feel like answering the inevitable questions. She still had too many of her own to deal with.

"Well, I'm glad one of us got a day to rest. Did you hear anything from the group?"

"No, there was nothing."

Apart from the excitement of the morning it had been a dull day, and Anna was glad it was nearly over. They settled back into their usual evening routine—Finn played cards while Anna quickly washed the crocks, then she took out a ball of wool to make some progress on the socks she'd been knitting him. Working with the three needles was never something she excelled at and her brow knotted in frustration as the wool kept twisting and slipping off. But Maya wasn't there to help anymore and she'd just have to manage it herself.

"One of the captains mentioned that the Fist are going to be cutting back on the firewood rations," Finn remarked, looking up from his cards. "I think we're going to have to be a bit more sparing on fuel from now on."

Anna bit her lip. "That's not surprising. Fortunately it doesn't take much to keep this place warm. I need to stop up the cracks in the window frame with some rags, anyway."

Finn nodded but he didn't say anything else. A gust of wind replied instead, rattling the glass as it whirled around the house and making the curtain shiver like a living thing.

...

The next morning brought no snow but rather a driving, frigid rain. It hammered like ice onto the glass and made Anna shiver just by the sound of it. Finn pulled on an extra pair of hose and stared at the window grimly.

"It'll be fun training out in this all day. I'll be half-dead by the time I get home."

"Maybe they'll put it by because of the weather," Anna suggested.

"No chance. If a cyclone came through they'd just tell everyone to get into formation again. But, nothing to be done about it. You can just stay here all day and put your feet to the fire," he said.

Finn leaned over her with a little grin a gave her a kiss.

"I'm sure if I did you'd go green in envy," she said lightly.

"Blue is more like," he quipped. "But I'd better be off. I'll see you later, love."

Finn gave her another little peck on the nose and was gone. Anna listened to the window rattling in sympathy—she'd have given good money to be able to sit in front of the fire all day. But though she'd said nothing to Finn she had her own errands to run.

After much wrangling she finally decided to deliver Skie's note, but the decision didn't sit well no matter which side she chose. Perhaps Eldoth really was just a rogue, or perhaps Duke Silvershield was just being over-protective of his only child. Hadn't Finn said before that the Duke refused to give Skie her own income until she was married, or turned thirty? It seemed rather harsh to Anna; Skie wasn't that much of a child. And as such she ought to have some say over her life, even if it meant the freedom to make mistakes. Still Anna would have felt much more comfortable with her decision if she'd been able to read Skie's letter for herself. Getting on the wrong side of Duke Silvershield was not something she particularly cared for.

Finn hadn't built up the fire and Anna didn't either, instead making do with cold wash water and some bread for her breakfast. It seemed a waste to have a fire when she planned on going out. Anna wrapped her shawl close and tried to force her chilly hands to knit until mid-morning. A part of her hoped the weather would let up but the wind and rain kept blowing, and at last she set down her needles with a sigh. She bundled herself as well as she could and ventured out into the blast.

Little surprise the streets were virtually empty. Fortunately the wind stayed behind her and she managed to get up to the Elfsong in good time. Anna paused at the edge of the square, allowing herself a moment to watch the scene. A group of about fifty men stood on the wet cobblestones looking wretched as drowned cats. They took their turns battering at straw dummies or each other with wooden swords, all under the eyes of the dozen or so Flaming Fist who barked out their orders. One group of men practiced advancing with polearms and their awkwardness made even Anna flinch.

She spotted Finn easily; he'd bravely shed his cloak and was repeatedly trying to instruct a fellow on the proper means of disembowelling a dummy. The dummy swayed and rocked in the wind and the man struggled to land a decent blow. Even from a distance Anna could see the frustration on Finn's face but he carried on with his task. Fortunately he was far too busy to notice her and she slipped around the men into the Elfsong.

...

The tavern was dark and quiet but a fire burned brightly in the large hearth. The large space seemed empty and echoing, a far cry from the boisterous night-time crowds that gathered there. A few stray patrons sat near the fire but none looked like the man Anna sought. She pulled down her dripping hood and approached the barkeeper instead.

"Morning," the man said briefly. "If you're after the barmaid's job it's been taken, sorry."

_"Ah_, no," Anna replied, tugging on her rough wool dress. "I'm actually looking for someone—a bard named Eldoth. I was told he lodged here."

The barman snorted. "Him? Aye, he's here, but I'm not sure for how much longer. Been falling behind on his bill, and the cocky son of a bitch won't work for free. The landlady will chuck him out on his arse before long. He's upstairs, I reckon—never shows his face before noon. Why don't you go on up and shift him? He'll like that, I bet."

The barkeep pointed the way and Anna climbed the stairs grimly. She was beginning to regret her mission again, but she forcefully rapped on Eldoth's door. No one responded. Anna knocked again and this time a low drawl came through the wood.

"Unless that's Eloise you can shove off," the voice said ungraciously. Anna preferred not to know who Eloise was, and she spoke clearly.

"Eldoth? We need to talk."

"Who's _we?"_

"Just open the door," Anna said impatiently.

She heard a curse, some shuffling and finally the click of a bolt. Eldoth peered out at her through red and narrow eyes, looking considerably less handsome than usual.

"Oh. It's you. What do you want?" he asked.

"I have something for you, if you'd care to speak with me," Anna replied.

Her words were frosty but some of that languid charm drifted over his face.

"Of course. Please forgive my less than chivalrous tone, good lady—I'm afraid I had a rather late night. If you'd kindly give me a moment to dress I will meet you in the common room. Perhaps you'd care to start us on a round of drinks while you're there?"

Anna's mouth narrowed and she didn't reply. She stepped brusquely down the stairs and chose a seat near to the fire but which still allowed for some privacy. No barmaid approached her and she had little intention of ordering a round.

Some long minutes later Eldoth finally made his appearance. The bard was washed and combed but his eyes couldn't hide the illness he obviously felt.

"No wine?" he asked while sitting down.

"No," Anna replied. "Here, I've brought this for you."

She pulled Skie's letter out of her dress where she'd put it for safety against the wet. Eldoth looked at it in curiosity but he took it from her and broke open the seal. As he read a smile appeared on his tired face, and it grew wider until he folded up the note and set it into his jacket pocket.

"Ah, I cannot thank you enough for this! Such a delightful letter from my beloved. It has warmed my heart on this hideous day."

"What does she say?" Anna asked.

Eldoth waved a finger at her. "Now, I would never ask to know the contents of your romantic correspondence. It is private, I'm sure you'll appreciate. But I feel in the mood for celebration—_oh, barkeep!"_

He called out loudly to the man behind the bar. The barkeeper glared daggers at him but took Eldoth's order for a pitcher of wine.

"I don't have any coin," Anna lied, thinking that Eldoth intended for her to pay.

"That's quite alright," he said generously. "I have a tab here, you know. My services are always in demand and they shower me with rewards, lest one of the other inns poach me from under their noses."

His sentiment was the complete opposite of the barkeep's, but the man slapped Eldoth's wine and two goblets onto the table without comment. The bard poured Anna a glass then one for himself, and he leaned back in his chair with a groan.

"That is just the thing," he said, looking at the goblet in satisfaction.

"I'd imagine you'd be used to late nights with your profession," she remarked.

"True, but some nights are later than others," Eldoth smiled. "Ah, my dear, will you lighten your face? I cannot stand to see a frowning woman. Nothing is more guaranteed to turn an attractive lady into a frump."

Anna felt more like smacking him than smiling, but she did her best.

"I'm rather surprised to see you here, though," she began. "Skie implied that the Duke intended to make you leave town."

Eldoth made a face. "Yes, I did have some muscled goons hinting it would be best for my health if I left Baldur's Gate forthwith, but I paid them little heed. Such are the difficulties we are faced with, you see."

"You and Skie?"

"Yes," he smiled again.

"I must admit, I have wondered if your intentions towards her are honest," Anna found herself saying.

Eldoth seemed rather surprised, but he grinned again.

"And I cannot truly blame you. I have experienced all this before. No offence my dear, but you of a certain class always view bards in the worst possible light. We are rogues, dishonest and charming, always on the lookout for wealthy women to seduce. And I cannot deny there are some unscrupulous fellows who do just that. But I love my precious little swan—Skie is a radiant delight with a heart like a fairy's. I know I can be quick with my tongue at times, but I would never dream of doing her wrong."

He raised his goblet and gave her a sincere look.

"But what of Eloise?" Anna asked.

His eyes widened and he burst out into a hearty laughter.

"Oh, no! Mistress Eloise is a rotund, grey-haired matron from a tavern where I occasionally perform. She's been rather slack in giving me my dues of late and I've demanded payment. Please don't say I'm being accused of carrying on with her, I don't truly think I could cope with the image!"

Eldoth carried on laughing and the other patrons glanced their way. Anna felt her embarrassment rising and she stood up from the table.

"Forgive me, then. I shall be on my way."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Don't run off, you haven't even finished your wine," he said.

The bard gestured to the table but Anna couldn't bear that glint in his eyes.

"Just the same," she replied. "Good morning to you."

She headed for the door, still hearing the sound of Eldoth chuckling behind her.

...

Anna wrapped up again and skulked around the square to avoid any chance of Finn noticing her. She couldn't see him but didn't doubt he was caught up somewhere in the increasingly unhappy-looking group of men. Thankfully the rain had tapered off but the cold winds were still high and Anna struggled to walk upright against them.

Still she roamed the streets, uncertain of where to go next. Anna had worn her work dress that morning, mostly to protect her one remaining decent garment from the rain, but also as some kind of mental excuse not to visit the Iron Throne. Why was Sarevok so keen for her to visit? And what could she possibly say to him? Perhaps she should bring up her meeting with Tamoko; that would certainly make for a lively conversation.

Unconsciously though her feet managed to take her that way. She was nearly numb with wet and cold by the time she reached the compound but she stayed across the street, rubbing her hands and gazing at the building from under her hood. It sat like a monolith, a fortress in its own right. Was Sarevok in there? Was Cythandria? So many secrets that building held. And even on the inside she seemed to grow no closer to any kind of answer.

"Is that Lady Anna? Why are you lurking out here, my dear?"

A voice near at hand made her jump like a nervous wretch. Anna whirled to see Perthwaite the healer standing there, equally well bundled in his plain grey cloak.

"I'm sorry, I was just—wondering if Sarevok is at home," she fumbled.

Perthwaite smiled. "I could not tell you. However I was just going into the Iron Throne myself, so perhaps we could find out together?"

He offered her his arm and Anna found herself taking it. Perthwaite held her rather close, whether as protection from the weather or to keep her from fleeing she didn't know. He guided them past the guards and into the compound, where he summoned a servant.

"Master Anchev is in a private meeting," the servant replied.

"Ah, that young man will ruin his health with so many meetings," Perthwaite clucked. "Very well. Will you kindly tell him he has company? We shall be waiting in the blue parlour."

The servant bowed and went on his way. Perthwaite directed them up the stairs into a room which Anna noted as the place where the assassin had struck. The fine rug was gone, replaced by another, and that was the only evidence of the violence that had taken place there.

"I'm sorry, it doesn't make you uncomfortable waiting here, does it?" Perthwaite asked. "We could find another chamber easily enough."

"No, it's fine," Anna said.

She seated herself on the sofa and took the wine he offered with some gladness. The heat of the fire tried to warm her numb skin and she shuddered as the two forces did battle within. Perthwaite settled in a chair near to her. He took a slow drink of wine and spoke.

"You are shaking. I hope the weather is not affecting your health—I gather it has not been strong of late."

Anna looked up in some surprise but she remember the man was a healer.

"I have been poorly, but I'm feeling better now. But I've spent a good deal of time outdoors today and you know the weather isn't pleasant."

"No, indeed, but one can never be too careful with one's health. A friendly word of advice from an old man," he smiled. "Though if you'd like I could offer you a consultation as we're waiting. Pardon me for saying so, but your throat sounds rather rough."

Anna suddenly coughed. She hadn't been aware of it herself, but now she could feel her throat growing thick and sore.

"Yes, you're right," she said, massaging her neck distractedly.

"And your head must hurt. A headache can be a terrible thing, I know," the man purred.

Anna shut her eyes tight. She could feel that familiar pounding building up behind her temples. Her headaches never had subsided from when that golem attacked her all those months ago. She could see that cave again, that hideous fleshy beast as he slammed her without mercy into the rock wall. If it had struck her once more she'd have been dead.

"It does hurt..." Anna muttered. She set down her goblet and tried to rub away the pain.

"Oh, dear, oh dear," Perthwaite said softly. "I feared as much. Here, why don't you lie down on the sofa?"

He set out some cushions for her head and Anna gladly lay down. She shut her eyes feeling the man's wrinkled hands massaging her temples. The touch was surprisingly soothing and he spoke in a mellow voice.

"Is that better?"

"Yes," she whispered.

The pain melted away, becoming bland and soporific as a warm bath. But Anna jerked her head as she struggled to stay awake.

"Don't fight it, now," she heard Perthwaite say. "There are no assassins here today. Just relax, my dear. You are perfectly safe."

...

He said so, and Anna felt it was true. Everything drifted away into a dreamlike bliss and she had a sensation of floating on water. It was beautiful and calm, but suddenly another voice broke into her dream.

_"Finish this quickly, old man." _

Anna opened her eyes. A tower stood over her—no, it was a man. It was Sarevok Anchev, but his eyes didn't smile. They were cold as frozen rock and she found them frightening. She tried to rise from the sofa but that soothing voice came again.

_"Patience, I beg. When have I ever failed you?"_

_"Do you wish me to answer that question?" _the hard voice came again.

_"That was not my fault. I was not to blame. Must you still remind me of this?" _the soothing voice said, but it sounded more agitated than before.

_"The dead place their own blame. Now finish your work."_

Anna felt frightened again, but she couldn't move. She tried to command her limbs to rise from the sofa but they were dead to her.

_"Now, now," _the soothing voice said. _"Just look at this coin. Isn't it pretty? It's almost as pretty as you."_

Anna turned her head slightly to see Perthwaite holding up a silver coin. It _was _pretty. It shone bright as quicksilver in his palm and it fascinated her. She watched as it moved deftly between his old fingers, flipping over and over again without stopping. In all her life Anna could want nothing more than watching that coin.

_"Good now. Look at me, my dear."_

Reluctantly she broke her gaze from the coin and looked up into Perthwaite's eyes. He was smiling at her, a gentle, tender smile, like a father or grandfather. Her own lips twitched in response and she felt herself fading again.

...

_"Oh, what—?"_

Anna rose up from the sofa with a start. For a moment she struggled to remember where she was, but she noticed Perthwaite regarding her from his chair.

"You've been asleep," he said with a quiet laugh.

"Asleep? How?" she asked, confused.

She rubbed her eyes with a groan and the healer came over to her.

"The cold got to you, I'm afraid. You said you just wanted to rest your eyes, but in barely a minute you were sound asleep," he said.

"Oh, Chauntea...I feel like a fool. Has Sarevok been here?" Anna moaned.

"No, no. None but me saw you. Don't trouble yourself, I dozed as well. It is just that sort of afternoon."

She looked up to see the man smiling at her in a friendly way. Anna smiled back.

"Even so. What time is it?"

"I believe I heard the bells ring three times awhile ago," he responded.

_"Three?" _Anna exclaimed. "It wasn't even noon when we arrived. How could I have slept so long?"

"You must have been tired," he shrugged. "I would have woken you, but I didn't have the heart. You looked quite peaceful."

"Well, I can't wait anymore. I'm sorry about this—tell Sarevok I was here, but I need to leave," she said distractedly.

Anna rose up from the sofa but Perthwaite held out a hand.

"Are you certain? I'm sure our host won't be much longer."

"No, I need to leave," she said.

Suddenly she was frightened. Her heart raced as if something were chasing her but she couldn't understand why. She took her cloak down from the rack and hurried away with barely another word to the startled old man.

The cold air seemed to clear some of the fog from her head and Anna walked along cursing herself. Falling asleep in the Iron Throne? Why not just doze off in a lion's den? No matter how tired she'd been it was foolish beyond belief. She could remember lying down with her head resting on the cushions, but little else. What had she been thinking? But it was over now, at least.

Anna hurried home against the wind and tried to put her foolishness behind her. She built a fire for the cold room and made up a pot of stew for her hungry stomach. She was almost thankful she'd said nothing to Finn about going to the Iron Throne; she'd never live that down.

...

He came back late again and once more Anna sat and watched him eat. She watched him slurping up the stew with a chunk of brown bread, inwardly cringing at his total lack of table manners. Sailors had better habits than Finn. And he'd been raised by monks? Finn wiped his face with the back of his hand a let out a belch.

"So, what did you do today?" he asked, reaching for his ale.

"Nothing," Anna said.

"Wish I'd been doing nothing," he said grimly. "I'll have the influenza soon, wait and see!"

"I've being doing _nothing _since we came to the city," she snapped. "You don't need to rub it in."

Finn looked at her in surprise. "Sorry, then. You want to swap jobs tomorrow, feel free."

Anna seethed in silence. How dare he imply she was some sort of layabout? As if she had a choice. Except for the times when some madman was trying to kill them she'd been a virtual prisoner in that grim place. She'd left her home and her livelihood to follow him up north, and sometimes she wondered why.

"I reckon you haven't had much chance to do any washing lately," he continued. "But I'm fresh out of tunics and I've been wearing the same socks for days. Things are starting to smell a bit ripe, if you know what I mean?"

He tried to make a joke but Anna just scowled at him.

"I'm not the maid. Do it yourself if you're so concerned."

"Is everything all right?" he asked, giving her a look. "You're acting like you're pissed at me for some reason."

"Do you always need to resort to vulgarity?" she shot back. "And no. Why bother?"

She ignored Finn's stare as she rose haughtily from the table and went to peer out at the dark city. Anywhere else—she'd have given money to be anywhere but that room. Finn could be so infuriating when he chose. Anna never did the washing before she met him; it was too menial. Her hands were never chapped raw from lye soap and boiling hot water, her back had never ached from leaning for hours over a tub. She felt his hands on her shoulders and jumped.

"Come on, love—what's wrong?" he said, wrapping his arms around her.

"Will you just...let go of me?" Anna exclaimed.

She wiggled free of his grasp and turned to him. Finn looked at her with a mixture of confusion and hurt on his face.

"Sorry..." he began.

"Oh, you're always sorry," she replied. "I just don't want you pawing at me right now. Why is that so difficult to understand?"

"Fine. Fuck it, then," he growled back. "If you don't want me here, I'm going down to the pub."

Finn took up his cloak and stormed out of the room, giving the door a slam for good measure. Anna tossed her head, glad that he was gone, but soon another feeling drifted over her. Why had she spoken to Finn that way? He hadn't done anything wrong. She thought of running after him but the window rattled in the frame from another blast of icy rain. Anna's throat grew thick but she cleared away the table and went to bed alone.

She lay in the darkened room until Finn came home. He pulled off his clothes and dropped them on the floor as usual, then crawled into bed in silence. Could he not even apologise, Anna thought as she wrestled some of the blankets back from him. But then he'd probably been soothed by the attentions of some whore of a barmaid, entirely forgetting about his wife. She scowled into the darkness at the thought, listening as his unrepentant snoring filled the room. But Anna was too tired to stay angry and eventually fell asleep herself.

...

Finn only gave her half-looks the next morning and she replied in turn. His expression looked angry whenever he glanced at her. What right did _he _have to be angry, she thought to herself. She was the one who was always put-upon, not him.

"Will you blow out the candle when you leave?" Anna said, turning away from him in bed.

"Sure thing," he replied.

His tone was emotionless and bland, and he didn't even venture to give her a kiss on the way out the door. It just proved he wanted a slave more than a wife, Anna thought bitterly.

After he left the snarls gradually untangled from her mood and she considered getting up. Another dull day, but at least the wind had died down somewhat. Anna lit a fire in spite of the threat of rationing and sat eating a bowl of lukewarm pottage, wondering idly to herself why she'd been so angry.

A knock on the door surprised her, and when she opened it she was even more surprised to see Jaheira.

"Good morning. What brings you here?" Anna asked.

Jaheira frowned and she stepped back slightly under the druid's gaze.

"We've only come for a chat," she replied. "It seems we never call on you and Finn, and it's rather rude."

Anna looked at her blankly, wondering why in the world she would suddenly choose that morning to begin making social calls.

"Well, come in," Anna said. "But who else is with you?"

She didn't really need to ask. Khalid and Xan had been lurking in the hall and they entered the room in silence. Anna stepped back again; she'd known them long enough to realise the expressions on their solemn faces weren't exactly cordial.

"What's going on? Why are you really here?" she asked.

"We just wanted to have a little look at you, love," another voice replied.

Anna glanced over Khalid's shoulder, surprised again to see Finn step into the room.

"Shouldn't you be on duty?" she chided him. "And what do you mean, have a look at me?"

"The Fist can wait," Finn said grimly. "Just let Xan look at you, alright?"

"Why, you think something's wrong with me?" she said.

Anna stared at them all in disbelief. There was only one reason they could be there—they thought she was a monster.

"You haven't been acting right, not since last night," Finn continued. "I'm just a bit troubled, that's all. Don't worry, it's not like he's going to hurt you."

Anna though shook her head, feeling her anger rising again.

"No, I won't! Why should I? You think I'm one of those creatures just because I wouldn't do your laundry? How much of a selfish bastard are you?"

She retreated to the corner of the room and glared at them all, but her worst looks were reserved for Finn. He didn't even _trust _her. And now he'd roped in the others as well.

"Anna, please—" Jaheira began.

"No. No. You think I'm one? Well, look at this!"

Anna grabbed the sharp pair of scissors from her sewing basket and jabbed the needle-point into her skin. The pain of it caused her anger to ebb, but only for a moment. With tears in her eyes she held up her bleeding hand to them.

"There. It's red. Are you happy now?" she choked.

Finn stared at her like an idiot with his mouth hanging open. Jaheira and Khalid looked surprised but Xan just kept gazing at her levelly.

"You didn't need to do that," Finn said. "Have you entirely gone mad?"

"Oh, go to the hells!" she spat back. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just fed up with all this. Is that so difficult for you to understand? Now, go—get back on duty before they clap you in chains and cause us even more problems. I swear, I don't even know why I bother with you."

She wiped her eyes and began distractedly looking around for a rag to bandage up her bleeding hand. Anna was so angry at Finn it made her stomach hurt. How dare he? How dare he come there and accuse her of being a beast? He didn't love her at all. And what's more, she didn't love him.

"Anna—" Finn began.

"Didn't you hear me? Just go! I don't even want to _look_ at you!"

She practically shrieked out the words, and they all stood staring at her as if she were some kind of freak. At last she could bear it no more. Anna grabbed her clay mug from the table and sent it flying towards Finn's head. He ducked with a curse and it shattered into bits against the wall.

"Silvanus, this is absurd," Jaheira cried. "Will you restrain her?"

Finn began to advance on her and Anna's reflexes kicked in. Her hands glowed but before she could let loose her spell Khalid grabbed her. He wrestled her arms back and forced her down onto her knees. Anna let out a cry of pain and shrieked like a banshee.

_"Let go of me! Let go of me! It's all his fault, can't you see?"_

"What's the matter with her?" Finn shouted, struggling to be heard over Anna's cries.

"Xan, please—calm her, at least," Jaheira shouted back.

The elf had been standing to one side, regarding her silently throughout the ordeal, but now he swept forward and placed his long fingers on Anna's temples. She jerked her head and cried again, desperate to look anywhere but those eyes. Xan was stronger though and she soon found herself locked in his gaze.

The room vanished and suddenly she was somewhere else. Anna recognised the place—it was the parlour at the Iron Throne. She was laying on the sofa but she wasn't asleep. Her eyes were open and the vision was clear.

Sarevok was leaning over her. She was afraid of him, but he wasn't the one she feared the most. _The old man. _That...that _healer. _He was speaking to her in that pleasant voice of his. He made her see just how much Finn took her for granted. It made her angry. Perthwaite was right—she hated him.

But then her head started to hurt. It was wrong, all of it... There was something else. No, _someone _else. Xan was there and she could feel him like something heavy in the air. It hurt...he was breaking her mind. Anna was helpless, paralysed as the vision shattered like glass. Everything broke apart and the shards of memory whirled in her confused mind.

But for the briefest instant another vision was there. _Xan... _She was on the floor, locked into those eyes again. Was it the Iron Throne? No...it was the Golden Hind. Why was she...? But then she saw it. The image broke again, this time revealing a nameless tavern. Finn was there, standing dark and horrible above a cowering crowd. Something black was flowing from him and it made her heart stop in terror. Anna wanted to run but she couldn't move. She tried to cry out but only a strange wailing noise filled her ears. Mercifully the vision broke again and this time it shattered completely.

...

"Is she all right? What the hells did you do to her?"

Anna's eyes blinked open and she stared up at Finn. He wasn't horrible anymore—his mouth was open and his face was pale with fright and worry. He leaned down and drew her into his arms, and slowly Anna realised she'd been splayed out on the floor.

"Her mind was taken," Xan said levelly. "I needed to bring it back."

"And you couldn't have done it more gently?" Finn said. "Gods' sake, she was screaming!"

Finn laid her on the bed and his voice was shaking. Anna just stayed still, feeling too numb for speech.

"Do you mean she was charmed?" Jaheira asked Xan. "Do you know by who?"

"Yes, I saw. It was the Iron Throne."

Xan rubbed his eyes as if they hurt. He spoke quietly and slowly and his own voice had a dreamlike quality.

"Iron Throne?" Finn burst out. "I knew we couldn't trust that bastard. But when did it happen? She only started acting strange last night."

"I went there. Yesterday," Anna croaked.

She rubbed her own eyes and groaned. So she hadn't fallen asleep at all—that old man had put a spell on her.

"You went back there?" Finn cried again. "What in the hells did you do that for?"

Anna gave him a look but she didn't respond. Finn just clenched his jaw and took her hand, caressing it tightly in his own.

"F-foolish it may have been, b-but at least we know for certain they are n-not benevolent," Khalid said.

"That's one way of putting it," Finn replied, and gave Anna's hand another squeeze.

"But what was the reason behind it?" Jaheira asked. "Clearly they must have sought to turn Anna against us, but to what end?"

"I don't know, but you can bet I'm going to find out," Finn growled. "I say we pay them a little visit. Who's with me?"

"I cannot blame you for wanting to storm the place, but I do not think that is wise," the druid replied. "Whatever their intent it may be best for them to think they've succeeded, for now. In the meantime I think Anna should return with us to the inn. She may need someone to watch over her, in case of any further...complications."

"That's probably a good idea. Are you up to walking?" Finn asked.

"No...I want to stay here," Anna said quietly. "I'm alright. I just need some rest."

She felt mentally and physically unable to move from that bed, and more than anything she just wanted to be alone.

"Alright. I can always get one of the lads to tell base that you're sick," Finn said. "I'll stay with you."

Anna heard heavy boots in the hall. Two of their neighbours burst in and looked around the room warily.

"What's going on up here? We heard shouting," one said.

"It's all right, Halsen," Finn replied. "Anna's just not feeling too well right now."

"I should say not! About gave my wife the fits, that noise did. Are you sure everything's alright?" he said.

"Aye. Do me a favour though, won't you? When you report in tell the captain I needed to stay and look after her."

"Don't think he'll much like that," Halsen remarked. "But I'll let him know."

They departed with another look at the strange company and shut the door behind them. Finn still had hold of Anna's hand and she squeezed his back.

"You don't need to stay, not if it's going to get you in trouble. I'll be fine here," she said.

"I'll stay. Unless, you don't want me to."

There was still some lingering hurt in his voice. Anna tried to smile and squeezed his hand again.

"Well, if you believe you can manage..." Jaheira said hesitantly. "Send for us if there are any further problems. And if you feel up to it, come by the inn. We will have a great deal to discuss, I am sure."

She reluctantly said goodbye and Khalid followed suit. Xan said nothing as he swept out the door after them, but Anna couldn't take her eyes off him. Something else...there was something else. _You've been charmed_, he said, but somehow it never even occurred to her that the enchanter might have been the one who did it. That vision of Finn in the tavern hung in her mind but it was so obscure, so surreal that it might have been a dream. Yet an unsettled feeling told her it was no dream.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Finn asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Anna nodded. "I think so. I'm...I'm so sorry for the things I said."

"It's alright. I know you didn't mean them," he replied. "You had me worried for a minute there, though."

She glanced up to see a flicker of a smile pass over his face. Anna reached up and caressed his cheek.

"Well, it wouldn't kill you to rinse out your own socks for a change," she said.

Finn laughed a little. "Right, you've got a deal. Anything to keep the crockery in one piece."

"Oh, gods—that cup was full of wine," Anna groaned, raising up slightly to see the red stains that trickled down the wall.

"It doesn't really make the room look worse for wear," he joked. "Don't worry. I'll clean it up."

"I do love you. You know that," Anna said quietly.

Finn nodded and she thought his eyes were turning red. She rose up from the bed and drew him into a deep embrace. They sat that way for a long while, just silent in each other's arms.

...

The warm silence lingered on for the rest of the afternoon. Somehow they both seemed too exhausted to talk. Anna felt queer nerves vibrating in her belly, and rather than lessen they only grew worse. She tried again and again to recall that vision of Finn in the tavern but it would never hold. It slipped away from her grasp like a wet fish and left her more frustrated than before. Anna said nothing of it to Finn though. She knew there was only one man who could answer her, but what the enchanter might be willing or even able to say she had no idea.

But worst of all it was unsettling how easily Perthwaite's spell had manipulated her. Jaheira was wrong—he hadn't turned her against _them_, it was only Finn. But why? The old man had taken the niggling irritations she had with her husband and turned them into a sea of anger. He'd driven a wedge between Anna and the man she loved with all the ease of a woodsman chopping a block in two, and it made her feel sick inside.

Towards evening another knock sounded on the door. One of their neighbours was there with a letter. Finn shut the door after he departed and turned it over in his hands.

"This is the Duke's seal, isn't it?" he asked.

The letter did carry the Silvershield family crest stamped into the metallic wax, and Anna looked puzzled as Finn.

"That's rather unlike him to send an open note. What does it say?"

He carefully broke open the seal and sat on the bed so they could both read. The bold, elegant handwriting was the same as the one used on the Duke's anonymous note, but the words written there made Anna's throat catch.

_'Lieutenant Finnigan—_

_I am aware of your complicity in this most vile betrayal, and there are no words to describe my outrage. That an officer of the Flaming Fist should be involved in such a thing grieves me to no end. But I am a fair man and would at least give you a chance to explain your heinous behaviour. If you do not wish to immediately face the persecution of the law then come to my estate this evening, after the ninth hour. I will be waiting._

_—Lord Entar Silvershield, Grand Duke'_

"What in the..._hells?"_ Finn exclaimed. "What's he on about? When have I betrayed the Duke?"

"I..._oh, no!" _Anna gasped.

"What? You know something about this?" he asked.

Anna felt her face burning hot. "Yes, perhaps, I...I think this might be my fault."

In a shaking voice she tried to explain about the letter Skie had entrusted to her. Finn looked surprised at first but then a scowl spread over his face.

"Bloody hells. You get up to anything else yesterday that you haven't mentioned yet?" he said angrily.

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "But I didn't think... I don't understand how he even knows about this. You don't—you don't suppose she's run away with him, do you?"

"I wouldn't put it past her, not with that slimy bastard egging her on," he said grimly. "And you can bet if the Duke thinks we had a hand in it then we're in for some trouble. Skie's not eighteen and by law she'd need her father's permission to get married. I'm sure he'd rather lock up Eldoth but we'll do just as well."

"Oh, what have I done?" Anna wailed. "How stupid could I have been—"

"Look, don't worry, alright?" Finn said quickly. "We'll talk to him. Put a little charm on him, and hopefully he'll decide to go easy. _Er, _sorry."

Anna looked up startled at the word 'charm'. If only she could blame that act of foolishness on a spell, but this was entirely her own fault.

...

The hours never crept by so slowly as they did that night. Anna invented a hundred nightmarish scenarios in her mind, imagining how she finally allowed that rogue Eldoth to snare a prize, and how Skie's powerful father could make their lives hell in repayment. Finn tried to soothe her but Anna could tell he was no more pleased with her actions than the Duke. But at last the temple bells struck nine times and they made their way to the Silvershield estate.

Neither of them felt comfortable approaching from the front so they picked their way into the darkened alley behind the house. Finn was about to ring when he paused, leaning down to examine something in the darkness.

"What is it?" Anna asked.

"It's the bolt...the lock's been smashed right in," he said.

It was true. Even in the thin light Anna could make out the splinters in the wood where the lock had been battered away. A clanking noise came from the cobblestones as Finn gave the fallen lock a kick.

"That's not good," he muttered. "Just better hope the Duke doesn't blame this on us, too."

They walked silently into the dim courtyard. Although the curtains were drawn Anna could see light coming from the house, and as they approached the back door she noticed it was ajar. Finn held out his hand to stop her.

"I'm not much liking this," he said quietly.

"You think burglars?" she whispered back.

"Don't know. Let's find out, eh?"

With a flopping heart Anna followed him into the estate. Wall lamps threw a flickering light over the corridors, but they found the library, dining room and parlours to be empty. Anna supposed there must be servants somewhere, but perhaps they'd retreated to their own wing for the night.

Only one room was lit, and by the heavy ornate desk Anna assumed it must be the Duke's study. But hiding behind the silver writing set and glittering glass lamp she noticed something strange. Duke Silvershield was there, resting his head on the desk as if he'd fallen asleep.

"Finn..." Anna breathed.

"Just stay there," he replied.

Anna didn't move as Finn approached the desk. He held out a hand, then hissed a curse into the silent room.

"He's...he's _dead."_

_"What?" _Anna replied. There was an edge of desperation in her voice as that statement sunk in.

"He's been stabbed, there's blood everywhere," Finn groaned. "He's dead."

He looked up and an expression of fear washed over his face. Anna still felt paralysed.

"What are we going to do?" she said in a small voice.

The Duke, murdered on the very night he summoned them there? It couldn't be right. Something was wrong. But suddenly Anna thought of Skie.

"Was it...an assassin?" she said. "But what about the others?"

Finn broke from his trance. "Come on. We need to see if they're alright."

...

He charged up the staircase and Anna followed him. She directed him to Skie's chamber and they burst inside without bothering to knock.

No lamps were lit but a low-burning fire lent some light into the room. For a moment Anna thought the chamber deserted, but perhaps her mind was slow to process the vision that her eyes rested upon. Skie was there. She lay on the floor before the fire, her soft ringlets flowing around her shoulders. Her eyes were open and her mouth parted as if some word were on her lips. One pale arm rested delicately across her chest, grasping vainly at the dagger that was buried there.

Finn shouted something that she didn't hear and went to the girl's side. Anna couldn't move. Her stomach felt sick. Skie lay still as she had during that awful play and Anna half-expected her to leap up with a laugh. But Finn looked up and the expression on his face made her feel even worse.

_"Get out," _he growled.

"What?" Anna replied.

"We need to get out. _Now."_

Anna couldn't argue as he seized her by the arm and virtually dragged her down the stairs. They left Skie where she'd fallen; her lips were frozen forever, and whatever name they tried to speak in the last they couldn't know. Finn pulled Anna from the house, out through the garden and back into the alley.

"We need to tell someone," she finally managed to say.

"No. No we don't," Finn said quickly.

"But—"

"Don't you get it?" he hissed. "That dagger in her chest—it was Fist issue. We've all got them. Fuck, I should have taken it with me."

He paused for a moment, breathing hard, looking back at the estate. Anna tugged on his arm.

"You think we were set up?" she said desperately. "But how?"

"I don't know. But is it a coincidence?" Finn remarked. "The Duke summons us there with an angry letter, then ends up dead? Maybe. I don't know. But I'm not going to hang around and find out. No one knows we were here. Someone...someone will find them. We just...let's get home."

His voice was shaking and Anna's stomach churned harder. The weight of it was too much to bear and her mind mercifully refused to deal with the images of the night. She held tight to Finn's hand as they hurried like thieves through the darkened streets, leaving the bloodied house behind them. For the first time in her life Anna truly feared what the morning would bring.


	98. Tolling of the Bells

A neighbour opened the gates at their knock but Anna felt something accusatory in his watchful eye. It was only her imagination but she still found herself looking away. The secret that burdened them would sweep through the city before long, and there was little they could do.

They made their way upstairs slowly. Finn shut and bolted the door while Anna sat on the bed, not bothering to take off her cloak. Suddenly a jolt went through her body and her hands began to shake.

"They'll know, Finn, they'll know...what are we going to do?" she whispered.

"They won't know," he replied. "Nobody saw us. We'll just...have to come up with a story of why we went out, that's all."

He sat down and wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders but Anna could hear the uncertainty in his voice. She'd never known Finn to want to hide. But then they'd never stood the chance of being accused of the murder of a Duke, either.

"But what about his letter? Baz brought it up, he might have noticed the seal—"

"Might have," Finn interrupted. "But maybe he didn't. Just to be safe, though."

He took the Duke's letter out of his pocket and fed it to the fire. Finn worked it with the poker until it was nothing but ash but Anna felt no better.

"It doesn't matter, does it? You were right, someone set us up. They must have. We won't get away that easily," she said.

Finn turned around from the fire and looked at her. The low flames gave him a strange appearance, half in light and half hidden in darkness.

"And it doesn't take much to work out who," he said. "Anchev must have his fingers in it. All that going on about his father—it was him all along, wasn't it? He was goading the old man on, playing him like a harp. And we—I went along with it just the same. We all danced to his music."

Finn slammed the poker down hard into the rack, sending out a clattering sound of iron hitting iron. Anna jumped at the noise.

"But why though?" she asked. "What does he really want? War?"

"If it's not what he wants, it's sure what he's going to get. I don't know. It all seems mad. And why keep dragging us into it?" Finn groaned.

He sat back on the bed and squeezed Anna tight. For a moment Jaheira's accusations of Cyric fluttered in her mind. Could Sarevok really just be mad, bent on chaos for its own sake? Tamoko said the darkness had taken him. Maybe she was right.

"We don't know for certain it was him," Anna felt the need to say. "Maybe he played a part, but there could be others too. We just don't know. Oh, Chauntea—the days keep getting darker and darker. Some mornings I'm afraid, I'm afraid that the sun won't rise at all... Isn't that foolish? But I can't help it."

He ramblings broke off into a little, childlike sob. The sun always rose, but it never seemed to bring illumination anymore. It was always thin and grey like some unseen clouds were covering the sky. Winter was nearly on them but Anna had never known a winter like this. It felt like her soul was shrinking from the loss of the light.

"It scares me too," Finn admitted. "I think about you here, and Imoen there, and I don't know what to do. I wish Gorion was here to tell me. Used to drive me into fits being bossed around by him, but I'd give my right arm to talk to him now. Stupid kid...I was just a stupid kid who should've had his arse kicked all the way into a turret."

In spite of everything Anna laughed a little at the image.

"What do you think he'd say, if he was here?"

"Don't know. He used to say that evil hides from the light, but he didn't say what to do when the torch went out," he sighed. "It doesn't matter, anyway. Gorion couldn't help even if he was here. We've just got to do the best we can."

Anna shook her head, but her next words caught in her throat.

"Finn—what will we do if they find out?"

"They won't. That's all, they won't."

He kissed her hair and smoothed it back from her temples. Anna shut her eyes and drew a slow breath, wishing she could share his false optimism.

...

They went to bed and Anna drifted into a fitful sleep. It was broken by a sharp pounding on the door in the small hours, and she struggled to keep her breath as Finn answered the knock. Fortunately their neighbour only wanted to rouse Finn to his duty. He dressed and left the room in a rush, saying nothing to her. There was really nothing to say. After he left Anna laid her head back onto the pillow, knowing full well what had summoned the Flaming Fist in the middle of the night.

Finn didn't return and Anna found sleep impossible. She rose before dawn and sat with a cup of watered wine, staring at the fire and wondering where he might be. Another rap sounded on the door, this one much quieter than the last. Anna recognised the knock and called for Ella to come in.

"Morning. Wasn't sure if you'd be awake," Ella said.

Anna turned round from the table at her entrance. Ella didn't have her boys in tow as usual and she looked like she'd had as much sleep as Anna.

"I couldn't really sleep," she replied.

"Nor me. I can't remember the last time they called Mick out in the middle of the night," Ella said. "It's got me worried, I can tell you. None of the lads are back yet and the men here don't know any more than I do. What do you think's happened?"

Anna looked into her troubled eyes and looked away again.

"I don't know," she said quietly.

"I'm thinking it must be Amn," Ella replied. "Maybe they've sent ships up the river. Everyone said they might."

She began pacing the floor, clutching distractedly at her old woven shawl. Anna pulled out a chair for her but it took the woman a moment to notice.

"It could be," she said cautiously. "But I suppose we'll have to wait and see."

"Aye. We're always waiting," Ella said. She sat down at the table but kept fiddling with the tassels on her shawl. "And the gods know they can never tell us a thing. We're always the last to hear anything. Mick could have to leave at a moment's notice—we wouldn't even have a minute to say goodbye."

Anna bit her lip and looked down at the table. Ella's stoic cheeriness had vanished leaving a pale imitation of her behind. The woman pushed her uncombed hair from her face and took a sharp breath.

"Well, it could be nothing. A false alarm," Anna offered.

She knew it wasn't the truth but felt the need to comfort her somehow. Ella only shook her head.

"No, not this time. I can feel it. You ever get that feeling, like you can taste something on the wind? I get that now. Something's happened. Mick's going to get called up, and Ilmater help me but I don't know what to do."

Anna looked at her in surprise as the tears started to brim over. She reached over and squeezed her hand.

"It'll be all right. We just have to trust that somehow—"

"No, you don't know," Ella interrupted. "We've got another little one on the way. I've not even told Mick yet...meant to save it for a surprise. It'll be one hell of a surprise now, aye?"

She let out a rough laugh and Anna felt her cheeks turn pink.

"Oh. But I'm sure he'll be happy just the same...besides, everyone here will help. I'll help. You don't need to worry about that."

"No, just worry about losing me husband," Ella shot back. "Just worry about my babies starving to death in a siege, worry about Amnish bastards killing the whole lot of us... I'm sorry. Must be the little one getting to me already. I always turn into a blubbering wreck."

She wiped her eyes and tried to laugh but Anna could think of nothing to say.

"I'll talk to Mick when I can," Ella continued. "See if he minds us moving back into me mam's place. She takes in boarders, but most of the merchants have left town and she's got plenty of room. Reckon I could get some geese to earn a little extra money. I used to keep geese, you know, but there's no place for them here."

Anna nodded and the two women fell silent. Suddenly Ella roused herself with a jerk.

"But what am I doing here palavering? Lonny will be waking up any moment and fussing for his breakfast. Take care of yourself, dear."

"You too," Anna managed to say. Ella adjusted her shawl and hurried in silence from the room, but her words hung in the air after her.

...

The sky had broken in the night and a pale dawn finally came. The scattered clouds rushed towards the east, driven by winds up high. They were grey and heavy-bottomed with rain or snow ready to cast down on some unfortunate soul. Anna sat at the window watching them until she heard Finn's boots in the hall.

She stood up anxiously but his expression told her little. Finn bolted the door then came and wrapped his arms around her.

"It's alright," he said.

"What happened?" she whispered back.

"When they found the Duke they called out the Fist. Eltan wanted us all on alert before he broke the news. I reckon we'll be hearing the bells before long. But nobody's asked me any questions. It's going to be alright."

Anna drew a deep, shaking breath. It seemed impossible that she could feel such relief given all that had happened and all the troubles that were about to begin, but she couldn't help it. At least their names would be clear. That was something.

"What have they said about the Duke and Skie?" she asked.

"I haven't heard much. They're calling it an assassination, that's all I know," Finn replied. "But there's been no mention of any Fist being involved. Honestly, I think all fingers are going to be pointing straight at Amn."

Anna nodded slowly. "Well. Do you want some breakfast?"

"Aye, just a quick bite. There's not going to be any training today but the captain wants us down at base, ready in case there's any trouble."

"What sort of trouble?" she asked while stirring up the fire.

"No telling how people will take this," Finn said. "Could be a riot for all we know. You might be best staying at home today."

Anna said nothing about his grim conclusions. She made up a pot of porridge and they ate in silence until the first bells began to ring. Out across the city she could hear them, the sharp chimes battering against one another as they reverberated in the cold morning air. She looked up at Finn and he swallowed hard.

"I'd better be going. You'll be alright here, aye?"

It seemed a strange question to ask; if she wasn't, she'd be no better off anywhere else. But Anna only nodded and Finn kissed her goodbye.

In spite of his warnings Anna knew she couldn't stay in that room all day. She put away the breakfast dishes then hurried from the house. The man on the gate repeated Finn's caution but she was determined to go out. Anna slipped through the side alleys, doing her best to avoid any gathered crowds.

Unfortunately there was no way to avoid the palace on her way to the Golden Hind. Anna paused and caught her breath in surprise at the number of people in the square. Men and women of every description pressed up against the walls, churning and frothing like a boiling stew. The palace gates were shut and the noise of the mob roared in her ears. Some people were angry, others frightened, but their voices called up as one.

She was about to move on when a flash of red on the rampart caught her eye. Several mercenaries of the Flaming Fist appeared and after some trouble managed to quiet the crowd enough to be heard.

"Good people of Baldur's Gate!" a mercenary cried. "I can assure you the Grand Dukes are safe and under our protection. There is no truth to the rumour that High Duke Eltan was also killed—assassins penetrated his home last night, but by the bravery of his guards and the Duke himself they were driven away. We believe the suspects may still be in the city, but we ask you not to panic. Civil disorder will help no one—"

_"Aye? Well if you can't find 'em, we will!" _A man shouted, but the mercenary was too far off to hear. Those around him gave their assent and Anna could hear little else of what the Flaming Fist officer had to say. In truth she'd heard more than enough.

...

Anna arrived at the Golden Hind breathless, but not from the journey. She found the door locked and had to ring to be let in. She hurried up to Xan's rooms and Jaheira answered her knock.

"You took a chance coming out this morning," she said. "Is Finn on duty?"

"He is. They called him out last night," the mage replied.

She stumbled over the words—Anna had no idea how to begin with the truth of what happened the night before.

"I am not surprised. Silvanus, this will be the end. Damn them all!" she exclaimed.

Jaheira pounded her fist into her palm for lack of anywhere else to put it. Khalid looked over at her but his tight mouth remained closed.

"What do the Harpers say?" Anna asked.

"We are about to find out," Jaheira replied. "Dermin is not in the city but there are others we may speak with. Hopefully they will be able to forgive our recent _misunderstanding."_

She almost hissed out the word but Anna had little desire to get involved in another Harper spat. She didn't bother to take off her cloak and she stood rather awkwardly in the centre of the room. Jaheira drew on her wraps and Anna flinched at the look she gave her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Fine," Anna replied. "I haven't had any more...trouble."

A dull headache had been building throughout that morning but she felt no mad urges, at least.

"That is good. By the Oak Father, we have enough trouble on our hands. Khalid and I must go out and I'm not certain what time we will return. But you may stay here if you wish."

"Who is here?" Anna said reluctantly.

The two half-elves were the only ones in the room and both bedchamber doors were shut. Anna feared some uncomfortable conversations but Khalid spoke.

"Only Xan. Kivan is out in th-the city and Luedre has left on other d-duties. Jaheira h-has seen to Xan and he's resting now."

"Well. I might stay and warm up before I leave," Anna replied.

"Very well, but do take care when you venture into the city," Jaheira reminded her. "I have a feeling this will not be pleasant. We'll try to contact you later. Has Finn said anything?"

There was an odd tone in her voice and Anna looked at her.

"About what?" she asked.

"He is in the Flaming Fist. I thought perhaps he may have heard something."

Anna choked a little but she shook her head.

"It's an assassination," she replied.

"Yes," Jaheira said grimly. "But let us hope the true culprits are punished. Come, my husband, if you are ready."

Khalid finished strapping on his weapon and gave Anna a little smile before the couple departed. Was there meaning in Jaheira's words? Anna couldn't see how she might know, but her own guilty conscience ate at her. She should have said something. But the Harpers would surely find out before long.

...

The fire was pleasant in the silent room and Anna lingered longer than she intended. The placid, proper lounge felt something like a cocoon, a shelter from the madness and anger that was flowing around the city. The lace-edged curtains were stiffly pressed and various cushions sat at attention on the chairs, their silky tassels gleaming in their muted colours. If only there were such peace, but the room might as well have been a dream.

Anna thought of the Duke, but mostly her thoughts turned to Skie. Such an innocent, foolish girl—why did she need to die? She was no harm to anyone. It was foul and cruel, and whoever killed her must have crept up to her room in full knowledge of the horrible act they were about to commit.

She thought as well of Eldoth. Could he have played a hand? He could easily have gained entry to the estate, and to Skie's chamber itself. But loathsome as the bard was Anna still struggled to believe he might actually resort to murdering his lover.

The click of a bolt broke her from her thoughts. Anna turned to see Xan standing in the doorway and she rose to her feet. But she said nothing as the weight of those strange eyes fell on her.

"Have the others gone?" Xan said at last.

"Yes," Anna replied.

He walked past her and poured himself a goblet of wine from a decanter on the side table. Anna thought of leaving, but somehow the thin elf seemed like a great barrier between her and the door. She needed to get past him, in more ways than one.

"How do you feel?" she managed to say.

"I have a headache," he said shortly.

"So do I," Anna murmured in reply.

"Why are you here?" Xan asked, turning back to her.

She was surprised by the question, but then he had been ill.

"Have you heard the news?"

"About Duke Silvershield? Yes, I know," he sighed.

"There was nothing we could do."

The words carried more of an edge than she'd have liked but Xan didn't respond. He went and sat in a chair by the fire, staring at the flames and sipping his wine.

"Nothing, or perhaps everything?" he said quietly.

"Where is Luedre?" Anna asked.

The goblet twitched slightly but Xan didn't look up.

"She is gone," was all he said.

"I'm surprised," she said cautiously. "I thought she'd have wanted to stay with you."

"What we want has little in common with duty," he said.

"That is very true," Anna sighed in return.

Xan said nothing else to her, still staring into the fire in that odd way. His voice sounded hollow but he seemed capable of more words than he had of late. They were alone, and Anna knew there would never be a better time. But a fear of what she didn't know shook within and she struggled with her words.

"Xan..."

It took him a moment to respond to his name.

"Yes?" he finally said.

"You remember yesterday. When you broke the spell."

"Yes," he said again.

"There was...something else. Some other vision. You must have seen it too."

Anna went and stood before him, breaking his view of the hypnotic fire. Still he looked through her as if she wasn't there.

"I have seen many visions," Xan replied.

"But I want to know of this one," she said. The heat was growing too much and her face began to turn hot.

"What do you want me to say?" the elf asked.

"The truth. Tell me the truth."

Xan finally looked up at her. His grey eyes were sharp and she struggled to comprehend what was written there.

"I do not know the truth," he said.

"You know. Of course you know," Anna said, her voice rising. "You did it—it was you. _Lle naa luhtar. _Do you remember that? In the sewers, you told me I was charmed. But it was you. You did it...there was no one else."

She felt her body begin to tremble. That violation, stripping her mind bare—what could be his excuse? She thought of what Perthwaite did to her and it only heightened her anger. Edmund said those creatures had raped his mind. She understood now what he meant.

Xan looked away again. "I do not know the truth," he repeated quietly.

"Oh, don't lie to me!" Anna burst out. "Why, why would you do this? I thought we were friends, comrades at least. _Why? _You always spoke so highly of your code_, _your fine elven ethics. Where were they? Tell me, now."

Anna bent over and grabbed the arms of his chair, pushing his own aside in the process. A rage slipped over her, one not unlike the anger Perthwaite had given her for Finn. But this was from no spell.

Her motion caused Xan to splash wine down the front of his robe. He glared at her but made no attempt to move.

"Foolish girl," he hissed. "I only wished to protect you."

"Protect me from what? My own memory?" Anna cried again. "I don't...I can't see...it was Finn. He was...I don't know _what_ he was. It's all I can see. But you know, you must know. Tell me—please tell me. What is the truth?"

Hot tears began to sting her eyes and flowed over her already burning cheeks but still Xan looked at her, immovable and impassable.

"I do not know the truth," he said.

Anna let out a cry and jerked backwards. His arrogance was unbelievable; how could he sit there and continue to lie? Xan knew the truth. He just didn't feel that she had any right to it.

"You are—you are a monster," she choked. "Just don't...don't ever speak to me again. Don't even look at me! You have no right. None at all."

Xan's gaze turned from her back to the fire. He took a slow sip of wine, acting for all the world as if she'd never been in the room. Anna let out another angry cry of frustration and fled down the stairs in a rage. How...how could he do this to her? She truly was just nothing to him—they all were.

...

Anna was so tense that when she felt a hand on her arm she pushed it hard away without even looking at the person who stopped her. But she heard Kivan's voice and forced herself to turn around.

"Anna? What has happened? What is wrong?" he said.

She looked at him but her mouth could form no words. Anna wiped her eyes and shook her head, but that was all she could manage.

"Come back upstairs," Kivan said, but Anna suddenly shook again.

"No! I won't," she blurted, then freed herself from his concerned grasp and hurried out into the street.

The cold morning, the sights and noises of people in the streets, they might as well have been a dream for all Anna saw of them. She felt completely lost. She wanted to scream out but kept it locked within. The wind dried the tears on her cheeks as she made her way through the city, and soon she found herself once more outside the Iron Throne. If she couldn't find answers one way, she would find them another.

As she approached the gates she felt a hand on her arm again, but this time the grasp wasn't gentle.

"Where are you going?" Kivan's angry voice rasped. "You cannot think to go into that pit of demons."

"You followed me?" Anna replied. "But I don't care anymore. They can only hurt me if I let them. I need to know, I need to find out."

"Find out what?" the ranger said. "That they are murderers and thieves? We know this already. What has happened to you?"

"What's happened? What's _happened?" _Anna exclaimed, but she forced herself to lower her voice. "Don't you see it doesn't matter anymore? They keep moving their pieces while our backs are to the board. We need to stand up. The Duke is dead, I saw him lying in his own blood—"

She broke off and Kivan looked at her strangely.

"What do you mean, you saw?"

Anna drew a sharp breath; there was little point in hiding the truth any longer.

"We were there...Finn and I. The Duke had summoned us to his estate. We found it broken into...we found Silvershield and his daughter dead. We just left them... We didn't know who to tell. But someone wanted us there, we're sure of it. It couldn't have been a coincidence."

Kivan stared at her, a look of shock on his normally expressionless face.

"And no one knows of this?"

"No, just Finn and I. We were so afraid that someone would accuse us... But it's Anchev. It must be. He's playing some part in this, and if we don't find out it will be too late."

"But what do you plan to do? You cannot just confront this man. He is a snake and no truth will pass his lips," he said.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know."

The cold breeze was beginning to settle her anger. What was she doing? Did she plan on storming the Iron Throne by herself? Grimly she thought that she'd picked up a few of Finn's habits without realising. Kivan was right, she had no place there.

But Anna forced herself to restore some of her composure—one of the guards on the gate had noticed them and came in their direction.

"Good morning to you. Is everything all right?" the man said.

Anna could see little of his face under his helmet, but she nodded and tried to smile.

"Yes, my man. But this is a dark day for us all."

"Quite right on that, ma'am," the guard whistled. "But I thought I recognised you. Master Anchev said you were free to enter at any time."

Anna felt alarmed; Sarevok had been expecting her. And if she left now he'd certainly know she called.

"I...is he at home?" she fumbled.

"Yes, ma'am. He's not been out today and we've been given the word—no traders. Not that many merchants have stopped by, mind you. Everyone's keeping close to home."

Anna glanced at Kivan. His face had turned to stone again.

"I do not think we have the time for visiting. There are other places we must go," he said.

Kivan had offered her a way out, but that keen drive took over again.

"I suppose, since we are here, we might call in on Master Anchev," she said, trying her best to avoid the elf's eyes.

The words sounded ridiculous—what other purpose could they possibly have had for lurking outside his gate? But the guard only nodded and allowed the pair of them inside.

"I hope you have spells memorised, _mellonamin," _Kivan said as they crossed the courtyard. "This is a dangerous venture."

"Not nearly enough," she breathed. "But you didn't need to come. You don't even have your bow."

He always seemed strange without that constant accompaniment, like Ajantis without his armour. Kivan scowled and laid a hand on his belt.

"I have my dagger, and that is all I need. Walk with care, now, and let us not overstay our welcome."

...

They found the compound empty. A servant approached them almost stealthily, seemingly afraid of the silence herself. She offered to take them upstairs but Anna said that they would wait in the downstairs parlour. The closer to the exit, the better.

"What will you say to the man?" Kivan remarked when they were alone.

"I really have no idea," Anna replied.

She forced herself into a chair—it wouldn't do to look too nervous. Kivan folded his arms and remained standing, looking still and hard as the statues that lined the corners. Anna jumped as the door opened but she tacked on a smile.

"Good morning. It is good to see you," Sarevok said. He kissed her hand and Anna smiled wider.

"Yes. I hope we are not disturbing you on this grim day."

"Not at all. I am thankful for the company. But we have not spoken in some time, have we Master Elf?" Sarevok said. "It is Kivan, is it not?"

"It is," he replied, his black eyes giving him a hard look.

"A pleasure, I am certain," Anchev said in a rather dry tone. "I'm surprised to see you, but I suppose it is not very safe for ladies to be out on their own on a day such as this."

"Not very safe for anyone," Kivan said.

"No, indeed. Finn is on duty, I take it? The Flaming Fist will certainly have their hands full with this ugly business."

Anna only shrugged. "Yes, they woke us up early this morning. But whatever keeps him out of my hair isn't entirely bad."

She was thankful that Sarevok had turned to inspect the fire. He'd expect her to hate Finn and she needed somehow to keep up the ruse.

"No troubles at home, I hope?" Anchev asked.

"Nothing I wish to speak of," she replied coolly.

"That is good. In truth, I'd hoped you might share with me some of your wisdom—Cythandria and I are to be wed soon, and I have little experience with happy marriages," he smiled.

Anna glanced up at him but quickly looked away. How he could even manage such a line with a straight face was beyond her.

"Is she here?" she asked instead.

"No, she spent the night at home. Whilst her family is aware of our intimacy they do insist on keeping up proper appearances. Hypocritical tongues love nothing more than a scandal, you know."

Sarevok smiled again and Anna felt an involuntary blush rise to her cheeks. He seemed in an almost impish mood that morning and gleefully rubbed his hands together.

"But I should see to my guests. Perhaps it is rather early for a strong drink, but I have recently acquired a rather remarkable shipment of Cormyrian brandy. I'm sure it would delight us both to sample something so close to home. Are you game?" he asked.

Anna had resolved not to eat or drink anything, but when faced with the question she could hardly refuse.

"Yes, but only a drop, please."

"Excellent. And you, Master Elf? I know it is not a patch on the excellent wines crafted by the elves, but I hope you would find it palatable," Sarevok said.

Not surprisingly Kivan refused. Sarevok poured a snifter for himself and Anna then sat in a chair near her. He glanced up at the motionless ranger from over the brim of his glass.

"You may sit, Master Elf. There is no need to stand at attention like a guard. I'm certain Anna is quite safe here."

The ranger had been hovering around Anna since Anchev entered the room, but he made no move towards a chair.

"I prefer to stand," Kivan said bluntly, and Sarevok shrugged.

"As you wish. But I'm certain we all have gossip on our minds. Have you heard the Flaming Fist speak anything of this tragedy? Apart from the official palace announcements we have been left in the dark."

"Finn told me nothing," Anna replied. "And all I have heard is that assassins have struck."

She took a sip of brandy and choked at the keen flavour of the alcohol. Such strong drink was never to her taste, no matter how fine the blend. Sarevok slowly nodded his head.

"Dear me. It is a pity he could not tell his wife more," he said. "But I suppose the ties of duty keep him bound."

"I suppose they do," she said.

"I heard Duke Eltan was struck as well," he continued. "The assassins must have moved on to him after finishing with unfortunate Silvershield. I heard as well that the villains have not been caught."

"I have heard the same," she remarked.

"I wonder...so many people out prowling in the night. Do you think it likely the perpetrators were not seen?"

Anna forced another sip of brandy. "If they were then none have mentioned it."

"Or perhaps people see what they wish, and forget the things they prefer not to see," he concluded.

Anna looked into the fire again. What sort of game was he playing? Did he expect her to mention the Duke's letter? She didn't see how he could even know of it, unless he was more certain of his hand than she thought.

"The villains will be caught soon. That much is certain," she found herself saying.

"Yes. Yes, they will," Sarevok said.

His words sounded almost casual and Anna began to feel increasingly uncomfortable. She looked up at Kivan but his face told her nothing. She tried to think of an excuse that could get them to the door, but a servant's knock sounded before she could think of anything. He carried a letter on a silver tray and presented it to his master. Sarevok broke open the seal and read with interest.

"This is unexpected," he announced. "Duke Eltan has summoned me to the palace. I cannot think why."

"What, today?" Anna said, equally surprised.

"As soon as I am able. I would ask you to accompany me, but no doubt this will be a private meeting. Of course you are welcome to stay the afternoon here—we have a fine library and my staff could prepare for you an excellent luncheon."

"Thank you, but no," she said, feeling rather relieved. "I'm certain Kivan wishes to be on with his business, and I shouldn't much enjoy staying here alone."

"Ah, but that is no trouble. Perthwaite is here, if you do not mind the company of an old man."

The mention practically drove Anna to her feet, but she declined gracefully as she could.

"No...give him our regards, but we should be on our way," she said.

"As you wish. But perhaps you would like to join Cythandria and myself for dinner tonight? We would always appreciate the company," Sarevok offered.

Anna could feel a vice tightening closer and she shook her head.

"No thank you. No doubt Finn will be expecting me at home."

"If you say so. Although you might wish to strive for more independence. A kept woman quickly loses her polish, especially one kept in a room the size of a henhouse," he remarked.

The point hit rather too close to home and she tossed her head.

"You are very right," Anna replied. "But for tonight I shall decline. With the troubles it is likely for the best."

"Yes, of course. But do not forget to call on me," Sarevok said.

He took up her hand and laid a gentle kiss there. Her small hand was lost in his large palm, but his fingers caressed hers delicately for a moment. In spite of his finely manicured nails she could feel the rough calluses that came from handling a sword and it sent a shudder running through her. Anna flushed and looked away, wondering if her attempt at a smile would fool even the simplest of men.

"We should leave now," Kivan said.

"It appears your handler is eager to depart," Sarevok said to Anna. "But do not forget."

He looked at her and there was something in his eyes that she would prefer not to see. But she tried to smile again and followed Kivan from the compound.

...

"I do not think you should return there," the ranger said when they were free.

His tone was grim and flat but Anna couldn't disagree.

"What does he want with me?" she asked, more to herself than Kivan.

"I could see what he wanted, though I doubt it would end there," he remarked. "Stay away from him. There is little telling what wickedness he would have planned this time."

Anna fell silent. She knew he was right but a part of her needed to know. How could she possibly be of interest to him? He didn't need her. But then, he didn't need any of them. None of them had wealth or power or influence. And however much she didn't like to admit, Anna knew she could hardly touch the beauty and style of the woman he already held on his arm. Perhaps this is what drew the fly into the spider's web—a distinct lack of purpose, no obvious intent.

Kivan walked her home through the nearly empty streets. The mobs had dispersed and the few people they passed moved quickly on their way. Everywhere markets and shops were shut but the taverns were packed with people. No doubt the rumour mill would be turning more and more over repeated pints of ale, and Anna wondered what the conclusions would be.

Her heart flopped as they approached the house—the gates were wide open and a pair of wagons waited on the street. Red liveried men moved quickly to and fro, shouting things that Anna couldn't hear.

"Oh, Chauntea, what's happened?" she whispered.

Supposing they'd come to arrest her? Kivan took her arm and led her into an alley.

"I shall go and try to find out. If you hear me signal, then run."

He lit off before she could argue. With baited breath she watched as Kivan approached the men. He spoke with some of them and Anna left her hiding place seeing a tall man running towards her.

"Gods, Anna, where have you been?" Finn asked.

"I'm sorry, I just went to the Golden Hind," Anna replied as he wrapped his arms around her. The other destination could wait.

"I'm just glad you're back. Listen, I've got to leave," he said quickly. "We've been ordered out onto the southern road. The Dukes are stepping up the patrols. I don't know when I'll be back."

Anna stared at him.

"You're leaving?" she squeaked.

"Aye, I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do, I can't go against orders. It looks like this might be it."

His face twitched into a little smile but his eyes were pained. Anna still struggled for words.

"I don't...you don't know when you're coming back?"

"I'm sorry. Just...try to look after yourself, alright? Maybe you'd be better off taking a room at the inn with the others. I don't know. Just...try."

Finn clearly didn't know what to say any more than Anna. At that moment it seemed their lives had gone up in smoke. A mercenary shouted his name and he gave her a kiss before turning away.

She followed him back up to the wagons where the men were loading their gear. The families were standing off to the side watching helplessly as her. Anna noticed Ella; her eyes were red but her tired face was expressionless.

In another moment the last bag was stowed and the last hurried farewells were said. Anna could hardly process Finn's lips on hers, and she didn't hear their parting words. She tried to hold him but she couldn't. She watched as he took his place with the mercenaries then watched as the wagons began to clatter away. Finn gave her one last look and he was gone.

...

"Are you all right, _mellonamin?" _Kivan asked her.

Anna broke her gaze from the empty street with a start.

"No," she said. "No, I'm not."

Kivan laid a hand on her shoulder and tried to give a comforting look. But the elf's talent for silence was well-received; there were no words she could manage just then.

He left her and Anna drifted back upstairs. None of her neighbours spoke, they all seemed dazed as she. She wandered into their empty room that had been left in chaos from Finn's hurried packing. A jolt went through her seeing Sarevok's fine mage robe spread out on the bed; Finn must have found it searching through her bag for something else. Where did he think she got it from? He knew as well as she that they had no money. But he'd never asked, and now she wondered if she'd ever had a chance to tell him.

The empty afternoon slipped by. Anna lay on the bed, still wondering if she were caught in some bad dream. She still expected Finn to come home as always, to hear his boots in the hall, to see his cheerful eagerness to devour yet another bowl of bland pottage. But he wouldn't be coming home that night. She was alone.

The dusk gathered but Anna didn't bother to light a candle or stir up the fire. She lay with her cloak around her in the chilly room, listening to the eerie silence of the house as it teased her ears. But suddenly a noise broke through the silence—it was a bell, a crier's bell.

Anna had no desire to hear the news but dutifully she followed her neighbours out onto the street. They marched along after the clanging bell until they reached the square. All the people of the neighbourhood had gathered around and their chattering rang in Anna's head. The crier mounted a step and began to read from a scroll in a booming voice.

_"Let it be known to the citizens of the great city of Baldur's Gate, that in light of the most heinous murder of Duke Entar Silvershield and the political tensions which now abound, the Council of Four has ruled to bypass the usual vetting of a month and a day, and have appointed a new Duke. Master Sarevok Anchev has gladly taken up the mantle of service to our fine city, and by the grace of Helm and all other gods of goodness and righteousness shall begin his reign as Grand Duke without delay—"_

Anna heard nothing else of what the man said. She felt like she'd been struck dumb. Sarevok, a Grand Duke? The Dukes were chosen from the most prominent citizens of the city, that was true, but surely there were a dozen or more men and women who might have filled the role. Anchev was nearly a stranger, and one tied to a criminal organisation no less. Why elect him?

His deep pockets no doubt played some role—with the Iron Throne in his command Sarevok would be the wealthiest man in the city by some length. But the remaining Dukes surely could not be so desperate for coin, even with the threat of war.

It all seemed so absurd that Anna wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry. She tried not to overhear the chattering of the people around her and wandered back to the house in stunned silence.


	99. Lost and Found

The dark and cold forced Anna to stir up the fire but no thought of food crossed her mind. Sarevok Anchev, a Duke? A keen sense of emptiness hit her and she wished with all her might that Finn would come home.

She spent the evening in hope that Jaheira might try to contact her, but she heard nothing. Anna sat at the table and tried to work out what she could possibly do. She clung to the vain hope that Finn might return after a few days, or even a fortnight, but a part of her feared the worst. Still, nothing had been declared, and although the kettle was boiling near the brim it still hadn't spilled over. She needed to hold on to that for as long as she could.

Anna managed to sleep though she kept waking with a start. In the darkness it took her a moment to realise that Finn wasn't lying next to her. That empty space left a void that was more than physical and she touched his unused pillow softly. The silence seemed oppressive and she crept from bed to make sure the bolt was still fastened. But at last the morning came and she tried to face the prospect of the day.

She wandered into the streets with no particular destination in mind. In most respects the city seemed returned to normal—the shopkeepers were sweeping down their steps and the market traders busily unloaded goods from their carts as usual. The daily parade of charwomen, labourers and sailors all passed her by as they went about their business. But the streets had a hushed atmosphere to them as if people were listening for something. Anna felt that way too, and she dreaded what the announcement would be.

Anna decided at last to visit the Golden Hind in hopes of hearing some news, but another sight caught her eye. Up above the buildings she caught a glimpse of the Temple of Helm, with its great dome shining in the thin sunlight. Ajantis—with everything that had happened she'd nearly forgotten his burial rite. They all had, it seemed, and it shamed her to think that she'd abandoned her friend. In haste she changed course and hurried up to the temple.

...

Given the hour Anna was rather surprised to see a fair crowd of patrons making their devotions. Most were guards by the look of them, though the sight of a woman in Flaming Fist colours brought back Anna's pain. She understood why they were there that morning, and she made a silent prayer herself that the Watcher would remain strong.

The only priest was busy at the altar and she hung back waiting for him to complete his rites. He seemed too distracted to notice her but at last Anna managed to catch up with him.

"Excuse me, but I was wondering if Sir Ajantis has been cleansed?" she asked.

It seemed a rather weak question somehow and the cleric looked at her.

"Yes, he has. His cleansing was two evenings ago."

"Oh," Anna replied.

Another wave of guilt hit her. She could hardly be blamed for missing his rite but now she'd never have a chance to properly say goodbye. One more person she cared for had gone, and Ajantis would never return.

"But the knight of his order who claimed his remains is still here," the cleric announced. "Perhaps you'd like to speak with him?"

"Yes, if he doesn't mind," Anna said. "I just wanted to pay my respects."

"Of course. Please, follow me."

He led her into the private section of the temple which by now was familiar to her. They entered that same parlour where she and Ajantis had spoken, though now it was dim from the lack of sunlight and the stained glass windows were dull. Two men were seated by the fire and the older of the two rose from his chair.

"Pardon my intrusion, sir, but this woman wishes to speak with you about Sir Ajantis," the cleric said, bowing to the man.

"Of course. Thank you, Brother. How may I assist you, good woman?" he replied.

The priest left them and somehow Anna struggled for words. The man who faced her was dressed in a robe typical of the south, and in spite of his older appearance she found herself almost intimidated by him. He was tall and broad-shouldered as Ajantis was and she couldn't keep the gaze of the keen eyes that regarded her.

"Forgive me for intruding...I was a travelling companion of Sir Ajantis. I'm sorry to say that we missed his rite—we meant to come, but so much has happened... I just wanted to say goodbye, really."

The man kept regarding her with a look that would put schoolmasters to shame, but when Anna glanced up again she saw his face was kind.

"Then I am very pleased to meet you. Ajantis spoke highly of you all in his letters and I know he regarded you as friends. I am Sir Keldorn Firecam, Ajantis' uncle and Paladin of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart."

Anna blinked. It was hardly surprising that his uncle should come for him, but to suddenly be faced with the man Ajantis had spoken of almost reverently gave her pause. She clutched at her dirty dress and curtseyed to him.

"And I am honoured to meet you, Sir Keldorn. Anna Whitehaven, and I place myself at your service."

"Indeed?" the knight replied. "Then you must be the lady of Cormyr of whom Ajantis spoke. It is I who place myself at your service, my lady."

Anna turned red as the knight bowed formally to her, but she remembered to bob in reply. At the announcement the younger man rose from his place on the sofa and also gave her a stiff bow.

"And this is my squire, Anomen Delryn," Sir Keldorn said, noticing the man at last. "He has accompanied me from Amn on this most grievous of journeys."

"My lady," the man replied, and scraped again.

Anna bowed to the man in return but she was somewhat surprised by his title. Squires were usually adolescent boys, yet he seemed older than Finn. But perhaps it was the immaculately trimmed beard which gave him the appearance of age.

"I am glad that Ajantis could be returned to his family," Anna said to the knight. "But it must be hard time to make such a journey."

"Indeed," Sir Keldorn said. "Given the political situation we thought it expedient to enlist the aid of the Cowled Wizards and their magic, rather than make the journey on horseback. We would have departed by now but we wished to seek formal permission from the Dukes lest our presence be considered suspicious."

"Suspicious!" Squire Anomen snorted. "It is this city that has been underhanded in their dealings, not our fair country. The lies they have spread—why, Amn should strike a blow simply to retain our honour!"

"That is enough," Sir Keldorn said firmly, and the man looked down. "We are not here on matters of politics. We can now only pray that the leaders of both countries will act in the name of true justice, not petty revenge. But if you would pardon me a moment, my lady, I must return to my chamber. There is something I wish to retrieve."

...

The knight bowed and left Anna alone with the squire. He gave her what she thought was almost a snide look but she tried to brush it aside.

"I shall be glad indeed to be done with this place," Squire Anomen remarked. "You will need the mercy of the gods if Amn does decide to call out their forces."

"We shall all need their mercy then, squire," she replied.

"But mercy is not intended for the guilty. The judgement of Helm will be swift, I have little doubt."

"And what are you implying?" Anna said. "Baldur's Gate is not the guilty party here."

"So you say that Amn is?" the squire returned. "All our attempts at diplomacy have been rebuffed, and the sheer arrogance that this frontier nation could be of such interest to us is staggering. With all due respect, my lady, Amn has far more important concerns than conquering this coast of monsters and rogues."

Anna only frowned and looked away. Arrogance? She'd been in the room less than a quarter of an hour and she could already feel it radiating from the squire. He was noble of face, but there was something in the angle of his nose and the cut of his mouth that suggested one who too easily found fault with all the gods' creations.

"If it is all the same to you, I would prefer to keep my thoughts on Sir Ajantis," she said firmly.

"Yes," Squire Anomen replied. "The news of his death brought many tears to the halls of the Order."

Surprisingly his tone implied that he was not one who shared their grief, and she looked at him.

"And so it should," Anna said. "Sir Ajantis was the only knight of your order I have ever met, but if his standard is a measure of those that serve then it was a loss to the world indeed."

The squire didn't reply but his nose wrinkled as if he smelled something foul.

"Did you have issue with Sir Ajantis, squire?" she asked.

"Nay, my lady," he said. "He was truly as fine a warrior as any man could hope to be."

The dry tone was unmistakable though and Anna felt herself growing irritated.

"He was the finest of knights, and a good friend. He saved my life at great risk to his own. Ajantis' duty never faltered, and you should feel honoured to have known him."

"Yes, _honoured,"_ Anomen scoffed. "So says every man in the Order. But some of us are not so quick to forget a scandal simply because a man has departed this earth."

"What do you mean?" Anna said sharply.

"Forgive me, it is not appropriate to speak of such things in the presence of a lady," he replied.

He bowed his head but looked away with that superior expression still on his face, almost as though she were a child who should know better than to ask.

"And I won't tolerate any accusations about him, not in this place," she remarked. "Ajantis was guilty of no scandal, of that I'm certain. You do your fallen comrade a great disrespect by suggesting such a thing."

"As you wish it, my lady. But I will say that the family of his intended must be greatly relieved," he added.

"And what exactly is _that _meant to imply?"

She'd had quite enough of the squire's snide remarks. How could he actually stand there and speak of Ajantis in such a way? Even if he wasn't fond of the man it seemed impossible he should speak so rudely of him to a complete stranger. And given all the things that had happened of late she was even less inclined to tolerate it.

Squire Anomen's lip curled. "I cannot blame you for defending his honour. But all within the halls of the Order were aware of his...inconsistencies, though few were willing to call attention to the truth. But I say again that we should leave off this conversation. It is not appropriate for your ears."

"And you would dismiss your own remarks?" Anna cried. "You've slandered my friend, one of your own brothers-in-arms, even as his ashes are barely cold. Do not worry about my delicacy, Squire Anomen. If you have words then speak them."

She glared daggers at the man, challenging him to speak. He folded his arms and his nose wrinkled again.

"Very well, if you insist. I am speaking of unnatural behaviour. Of a fondness between two men which went beyond the normal range of brotherly affection, and strayed into foul and immoral acts. Do you understand what I mean?"

Anna's mouth fell open. The squire stood there, erect and upright as he spoke those words without shame. Without even thinking her hand flashed out and she delivered a hard slap across his mouth.

"You _dare?" _she sputtered. "How... You are nothing but a vulgar_...peasant!_ How could you even speak of such things?"

Squire Anomen reeled back, surprised by her attack, and for one moment it looked like he might return the blow. Anna almost wished that he would for it would give her a chance to unleash another assault. Her stomach twisted into a knot and she struggled to see through the red haze that fell over her eyes.

"Believe what you like then," Anomen said instead, rubbing the tender spot on his cheek. "But we all knew the truth."

"What truth? You are perverted for even mentioning it," she exclaimed. "And you represent an order prided on its decency? Little wonder you haven't taken the title of knight!"

That blow seemed to strike home harder than her slap, and the squire's mouth clenched in anger. Anna's own rage simmered over but before she could speak a hard voice penetrated the room.

_"Squire Anomen! _What is the meaning of this?"

They both turned to see Sir Keldorn standing in the doorway, glaring at his squire with a look that would have melted even the sternest of men. Anomen's cheeks turned red under his beard and he bowed to his master.

"Forgive me, Sir Keldorn. I am afraid my discussion with this fine lady turned heated, and I apologise."

He bowed to Anna but she found little remorse in his words. The knight seemed equally unimpressed.

"We shall speak of this later," he said tersely. "But I have noticed that my shield has not been polished as I commanded. You will attend to it, and afterwards you will retreat to the temple to meditate on your duties to Helm."

"But I did polish your shield this morning, Sir Keldorn, along with your other—" the squire began, but Keldorn interrupted him.

"There is a small amount of tarnish in the corners, Anomen. To attend to such things without due care is to not have attended to them at all. Now leave us."

Squire Anomen flushed again, though not from embarrassment. He bowed once more to his master then departed the room.

...

"Forgive me, my lady. I hope my squire has not been filling your ears with scurrilous gossip?" Sir Keldorn said to Anna.

"No," she replied quietly. More than anything she wanted to forget his hateful words.

"I do apologise for him. He has enough of his father's blood to tax even my patience at times. But Sir Ryan sees potential in him, and I respect him enough to keep Anomen as my squire, however trying he may be," Keldorn added with a sigh.

Anna only nodded. She had no knowledge of the people whom the knight spoke, but she thought this Sir Ryan must be a determined optimist.

"But allow me to present you with a token," he continued. "This belonged to my nephew, one of his few personal possessions that he did not sell to feed the poor. I believe that you should have it."

Sir Keldorn opened his palm to reveal an emerald ring, stamped on either side with the Ilvastarr family crest. Anna recognised it and she shook her head.

"You are very kind, sir, but I could not take this from you," she said quickly.

"It is a family ring, one passed down from father to son for generations," Keldorn said. "But the gods did not see fit that Ajantis should produce an heir, and sadly his line is no more. I would like you to have it in remembrance of him. I am certain his mother would agree."

"But surely it should remain with your family," Anna said, still hesitant.

Sir Keldorn smiled gravely. "We have much more than a ring to remember this son of our house. My nephew spoke most warmly of you, my lady, and of your decency and honour. Consider it a token from a friend."

He passed the ring to her and Anna felt its weight in her hand. She watched the green stone sparkling for a moment then clasped her fingers around it.

"Thank you, Sir Keldorn. I...am more honoured by this than you could know," she managed to say.

Anna bowed to the knight, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes. But he only smiled.

"Of course. But if you would like I shall escort you to the crypt. Ajantis' ashes are there, waiting to make the journey home."

Anna nodded and took the knight's arm. Ajantis' ring was too large to fit securely on her finger and she kept her hand firmly closed around it. The metal grew warmer and warmer under her grasp, as if Ajantis himself approved of the gift.

Sir Keldorn led her into the stale crypt, down to a room that held a number of simple clay urns on pedestals. He approached an urn in the corner and bowed to it as if Ajantis were there in the flesh.

"Here are the remains of my good nephew," he said. "All that is left of him in this world. But that is not correct—we are always left with more. I shall leave you to pay your respects."

Sir Keldorn bowed to her and left the chamber. Anna smiled after him; in spite of his formality she could see why Ajantis favoured him so.

She turned her attention to the urn on the pedestal. A small likeness of the Ilvastarr crest had been painted onto the urn, the sole feature to distinguish it from the others in the room. Like the others it had the seal of Helm stamped near the brim and the lone eye gazed out at her from within the centre of its gauntlet.

Anna wondered if Ajantis could see through that eye now. She'd wondered before if the dead kept some bond with their former lives, even as they dwelled for eternity in the realms of the gods who fostered them. Perhaps he could sense her there. She hoped so.

"I don't believe what he said about you," Anna whispered to the urn. "You were the most decent of men, and you would never be caught up in such things. And perhaps...perhaps you are united with your lover even now. You could not give yourselves to each other in this life, but perhaps there is hope in the next. I pray that for you."

She paused to wipe away the tears, then held up his ring.

"Your uncle gave me this...he is a fine and noble man, just as you said. I hope you don't mind me keeping it. I will always treasure this, I swear. My friend...if you can hear me, could you pray for me now? I need that. I never did know how to ask for things for myself, but I—"

Anna stopped, realising that she was babbling. The urn remained silent and still in the cold room. She let her fingers caress its brown sides, feeling the little imperfections the potter's craft had left behind. Her friend was gone. He would serve eternally at Helm's side but no longer would he be at hers.

And yet she took some comfort in Sir Keldorn's words. Ajantis would always be with her, and he would never leave. For one moment she felt his presence, saw his face smiling out at her. He was there and she smiled back.

"Go well, my friend, wherever your road," Anna whispered.

Her throat was too thick to say anything else. Silently she prayed for him but she knew there was no need. Ajantis had his reward, and it brought her a little happiness even through her pain. Once more she touched the urn and left the stillness behind her.

...

Anna managed a brief goodbye for Sir Keldorn before departing the temple. Slowly she walked the streets, gazing at the emerald that glistened like a sea of deepest green. It caught the light in little flashes and reflected even her own face.

Looking at herself in that distorted way gave her a strange sense of being, as if watching herself from a distance. She saw how very tired her eyes were, and it was a look that seemed to penetrate down into her very soul. How long it had been since she left her home? And yet there she was, with her feet moving slowly over the grey cobblestones and the sky a ceiling of grey above her. Strange as it all was, this was her new reality and the other might as well have been a dream.

A faint brush of cold caressed her cheek and she looked up. Specks of white had begun to fall from the grey sky—not proper snowflakes but rain that had congealed into ice. They bounced away from her cloak and gathered in the gaps between the cobblestones. Anna shuddered and made tracks for the Golden Hind. Her argument with Xan still made her blood boil but she'd just have to move past it.

The inn door was unlocked that morning as the threat of civil unrest seemed past for now. Anna decided to chance that Jaheira might be in her room, thus avoiding the need to look the enchanter in the eye. She knocked lightly and Khalid opened the door.

"G-good morning," he said.

Khalid gave her one of his shy smiles and as always she found it easy to return.

"Good morning. I just wondered if there'd been any news," Anna said.

"Not that w-we'd wish to hear," he replied. "But p-please come in. Jaheira is out b-but she should return b-before long."

Anna accepted his invitation and went to sit in one of the chairs by the fire. Their chamber was small but homelike, as homey as it could be with stray bits of armour and weaponry carefully laid out on display. Anna smiled slightly thinking she and Finn weren't the only ones with an unusual married life.

Khalid offered her a cup of wine then sat down in the other chair. He sipped his own drink but his eyes seemed distant somehow.

"What did the Harpers have to say?" Anna asked.

He shook his head. "They say they are w-watching the situation. If S-sarevok is considered illegitimate they m-may move against him. May."

"That doesn't sound like a great deal of help," she remarked.

"No."

"But what about you and Jaheira? Are you...back in the fold?"

It was a personal question but Anna didn't see any way around it. Khalid slowly nodded his head.

"We were n-never truly out. One d-does not leave the Harpers so quickly. It is a c-commitment for life, much like a m-marriage. It takes a g-great deal to truly sever that bond."

Anna sighed deep without realising, and Khalid looked at her.

"Are you well?" he asked.

Her mouth opened, and for a moment no sound came.

"Finn is gone," she managed to say. "He's been sent south on patrol."

"I see," Khalid said quietly.

"I don't know when he'll be back," Anna replied, a little choke hiding in her voice.

"Jaheira and I have spent m-more time apart than I care to remember," he said after a moment. "Once w-we were separated for n-nearly a year. It was a difficult time."

She looked at him in surprise. "I'd have thought the Harpers would keep you together, considering."

"N-not always. The c-call to harp must b-be served first. We think of the others as f-family, s-so we are not ever truly alone."

"But none of them are your wife," Anna replied.

"No, indeed," Khalid said, and a little smile crept out from his mouth.

"But how do you cope with that?" she said. "I can't... I didn't get married to only see my husband leave, especially not... He might never come back. I might never see him again."

The finality of those words suddenly hit her. She understood now the despair in Ella's voice, that sense of hopelessness. Finn was married to the Flaming Fist and their own partnership came second. In all her dreams of marriage that thought had never occurred to her.

"Cope? I am s-still learning," Khalid said. "It n-never becomes easier. B-but we all do what we m-must."

Anna had no answer for that. At least Khalid and Jaheira had both agreed to join the Harpers, but she had never signed on for the Flaming Fist.

"Do you ever think of retiring?" she asked. "Of leaving the life. You've served the Harpers for a long time, haven't you?"

"Many years, yes. B-but this is our life. I accepted that a l-long time ago."

Something in the tone of his voice made her think that wasn't entirely the truth. Anna knew little of Khalid's background except that it was not a particularly happy one. His elven mother had been a concubine to a wealthy Calishite merchant, and she didn't gather it was a love match. Perhaps Khalid had longed for a simple family life. Did he change his mind when he met that strong, green-eyed druid? But if Khalid had one trait it was constancy, and Anna knew he would follow on to the end.

"Kivan told us of what h-happened," Khalid said.

Anna started at the change of subject. He glanced at her but there was more concern than reproach in his look.

"I don't know what to do now any more than I did the other night," she replied. "But no one has accused us, at least. I'm thankful for that."

"Yet if s-someone went through this trouble to f-frame you, then they w-will not stop," he said seriously. "Do you b-believe it was Anchev?"

"There is no one else it could be," Anna said, looking at her hands. "If he hadn't charmed me I might still doubt. But now he's a Grand Duke... Could this have been his plan all along? An elaborate plot to seize power?"

"Perhaps," Khalid said.

"Yet it will do him little good to be Duke of a ruined city. Perhaps he will steer Eltan away from war? But why—this still makes no sense."

Once again she sought the missing piece, and once again she failed. To bring the countries onto the brink of war just to acquire a seat of power seemed too foolish an act for the level-headed Anchev. Could he now try to stop it? The idea was new and it gave her a little hope. Precious little, for she knew that Duke Silvershield's murderer would still need a scapegoat.

"I think I'll return to the house," Anna said suddenly. "Give Jaheira my regards."

"Are you c-certain?" Khalid asked.

"Yes. I can think nothing more of this today," she sighed. "If you have news, or come to a plan let me know. But I'd rather be at home now."

He seemed to understand, or in the least didn't offer argument. She said farewell to Khalid and made her way back to the house. Anna found the gate unlocked and unguarded as it had been that morning; with the troubles sparing manpower to guard a house must have seemed like a luxury to the Flaming Fist command. It worried her, but then she knew by then that whatever was coming would find her, lock or no.

...

Anna spent the next few hours sitting in silence. She glanced at Ajantis' ring that she had set on the table, watching the emerald shine in the light of the fire's embers. She tried not to think of Finn, or Sarevok, or anything, but thoughts kept drifting back. The whole afternoon settled into a dreamlike blur, neither here nor there.

The sound of heavy boots on the stairs made her heart leap, and for one wild moment she thought that Finn might have returned. But the hard pounding on the door told her otherwise. Anna undid the bolt only to be greeted by three Flaming Fist mercenaries she didn't recognise.

"Can I help you?" she asked, calmly as she could.

"We are to search this room. Stand aside if you would," one said to her.

"Why, what—"

"Stand aside, ma'am," he repeated.

Anna's heart stuck firmly in her throat but she did as the gruff officer commanded. The mercenary stood at her side, and she watched as the others looked under the bed and searched through the cupboard. They stamped about on the floorboards in an odd way, then shook their head at their captain.

"Nothing here, sir," one of the men said.

"What is this about?" Anna finally managed to ask.

"When was the last time you spoke with your husband?" the captain asked in return.

"Finn? It was yesterday...he left yesterday with the men. But why? What's going on?"

In spite of her efforts to hide it a panic began to grip her. They knew. They had to know. What else would call them there?

"And you have seen nor heard from him since?" he demanded.

"No," she stammered.

Anna couldn't bear to look into that hard gaze. At any moment she expected the irons which hung on the man's belt to be fastened around her wrists. There was no way out now.

"I may remind you that lying to an officer of the Flaming Fist is a very serious offence," the mercenary continued.

"I'm not lying!" Anna cried.

Her face turned bright red and her hands visibly shook. Not surprisingly the officer wasn't convinced.

"So I will ask you again—where is your husband?"

"I don't know," she choked out. "I haven't seen him. But he's done nothing wrong! We didn't do anything wrong."

"I would hardly call abandoning his duty 'nothing wrong'. And if you have seen him you are obligated to tell us, marital bond or no," the officer said.

Anna looked up at him and tried to steady her voice.

"Abandoning his duty? Why—"

"Lieutenant Finnigan absconded from his patrol last night," he said impatiently. "It would be a grave enough issue under normal circumstances, but with our added pressures it can be described as nothing but cowardly. Rest assured, command will deal with him harshly when he is found."

She just stared at the man. Finn abandoned his patrol? Anna could only shake her head, not knowing what to think.

"We shall leave you for now," the officer said. "But again, I strongly encourage you to report his presence should he return to the city. In the meantime we will be monitoring you closely. Good afternoon."

The mercenaries tromped out of the room the same way they arrived, leaving Anna standing dumbfounded. Surely even Finn, hot-headed as he was wouldn't just abandon his duty. He was proud of his commission, she knew that.

But then a terrible thought gripped her—what if he hadn't abandoned the Flaming Fist willingly? Supposing, just supposing someone had finally found their target. He had no rogue stone to save him this time, and Finn could be lying dead in the woods with his command none the wiser. Anna clasped a hand to her mouth and let out a soft, frightened cry.

...

She paced the floor realising there was no way for her to know the truth. No one there could answer her. But the more she thought of it, the more the second conclusion wore on her mind. And as much as she feared to set foot in that place Anna knew there was only one man she could speak with.

The Flaming Fist compound looked even greyer underneath the slate coloured sky, making the stone walls look as if they were built from dirty ice. Anna had little idea if the man she sought would see her, or if he was even in the compound, but she had to try.

"I'd like to speak with Captain Dessander," she said to the guard.

"Do you have an appointment?" came the expected response.

"No, but I think he'd see me. My name is Anna Whitehaven, and he knows who I am."

The guard looked dubious but related the message to a comrade. She stood waiting for what seemed an age, shifting her weight from one foot to another as she looked up at the great gate. A shout came from within and Anna had to stand back as it swung open to allow a dozen mounted mercenaries to clatter away into the city. But finally her response came and a mercenary directed her to follow him into the compound.

He led her up endless stairs to the captain's office. The captain looked something like a chained bear behind his desk, with his wide shoulders hunched over his work and his beard growing long. He looked up at Anna with sharp eyes and dismissed the mercenary.

"Well?" Captain Dessander said.

"Finn..." Anna replied.

It was all she could manage but the captain knew well her meaning.

"Do you know where he is?" he asked.

"No, I don't. There were guards at the house today, they said he'd abandoned his post, but I can't believe it," she blurted out.

The captain's beard twitched. "I'd like to not believe it myself, but I have word that he took his horse in the night and fled. He's not been spotted on the road but if he even had a mule's sense he wouldn't be caught there. It's a hanging matter if they catch him, you know. The Fist doesn't take kindly to deserters."

The words struck her like a knife and Anna shuddered.

"But he didn't...he couldn't have," she said.

"What makes you so sure?" he replied.

"Just...he wouldn't do that. I'm worried, Captain. I'm worried that someone might have hurt him."

The words sounded desperate, and they were. Captain Dessander frowned.

"Bolt that door," he told her.

Anna did as commanded and approached the captain's desk. He unlocked a drawer and she watched as he pulled away a hidden panel, revealing a thin piece of parchment. Captain Dessander slid it over to her and she slowly took it in her hands.

"Tell me now. What do you make of that?" he asked.

It was blotting paper, so thin as to almost be translucent. Anna could see the traces of ink where they'd been pressed onto a letter and she tried to read the backwards script. As she read the lines her heart turned cold again. Anna placed the paper back on the desk and looked at the captain with a frightened stare.

"One of my captains found that in Duke Silvershield's waste paper basket," Dessander said low. "Thankfully he had the sense to bring it to me. Would you mind explaining it?"

"Sir, I—" Anna hesitated, but she forced herself to draw breath. "The Duke summoned us to his estate that night. We found him dead in his study, but we...didn't report it."

She found it hard to read the captain's reaction. His beard stayed still but his eyes were burning bright. He raised his big fist swiftly but held it in the air, letting it fall slowly back to his desk.

"Vai told me Finnigan might be trouble," he said through clenched teeth. "Damn but the woman had no idea how right she was."

"Sir, I swear to you, we had nothing—" Anna said quickly.

"Save your breath—if I thought Finnigan murdered the Duke I wouldn't have wasted time clamping him in irons," the captain interrupted. "But this paper, combined with the fact that a Flaming Fist dagger was found buried in Skie Silvershield's chest doesn't look good. And then the cheeky bastard decides to go out for a little stroll... You realise what kind of spot this puts me in? Eltan could haul me up on treason just for keeping this little treasure to myself."

"But you kept it," she said.

"Aye, because in spite of what my eyes are telling me, my instinct says that Finnigan had nothing to do with it. Why break in when the Duke invited him there? And why murder Lady Skie as well? The Duke's sister slept through the whole bloody thing across the hall, there couldn't have been a ruckus. But you could tell me one thing. What's this letter about? The Duke doesn't sound too pleased in it."

Anna looked into those sharp eyes then looked away again.

"It was my fault, sir. Lady Skie had a lover that her father had forbidden her from seeing, and she asked me to pass him a letter. We thought...maybe...that she'd arranged to elope and her father found out. But I don't know why he'd blame Finn for that."

She hadn't thought much of it before, but it did seem strange the Duke's anger was directed towards Finn. If Skie had confessed she surely would have mentioned her name instead. Dessander leaned back in his chair, those eyes still upon her.

"I see. And who's this mysterious lover of hers?"

"His name is Eldoth Kron. A Ruathym bard, staying at the Elfsong Inn."

"I'll be sure to have him looked into," Captain Dessander said. "But you need to understand this—your Finnigan has run out of rope. He's gotten his hands dirty one too many times and even I'm starting to ask questions about the lad. I don't think he murdered Silvershield, and I don't think he was suicidal enough to take on Eltan's guards afterwards. But if he's gone on the run I can't protect him. He's on his own now."

Anna nodded. "But, if you knew about this letter why didn't you mention it to Finn?"

Dessander looked grim and stashed the paper back into its hiding place.

"Because it would have been a bit inconvenient, let's leave it at that. And next thing I know Eltan has ordered a hundred men out onto the road, Finnigan included. There wasn't time."

"So you think someone was trying to frame him, too," Anna said slowly.

"I'd rather keep my thoughts to myself on that one," Captain Dessander replied. "And I don't think you should stay here any longer. If your man turns up I'll be sure to let you know."

Anna didn't much care for the ominous tone behind those words, but there was nothing else she could say. She said farewell to the captain and walked slowly back to the house.


	100. The Runaways

_100 chapters! And to think I planned this story as a quick run through. Well, not much longer to go; another hundred thousand words should cover it! Kidding. Thank you too Alice for your review_. :)

...

In spite of everything Anna was determined not to spend another afternoon brooding in silence. It would help nothing, and wherever Finn was she could only petition Chauntea for his safety. The goddess of the earth could hear his footsteps, and if he was dead...but Anna tried to shake away that thought.

She chopped up a cabbage for the nightly stew and then set herself to another task, examining Sarevok's robe. She'd never even tried it on as a niggling worry told her that it might be cursed. But in chanting over the runes Anna found the gift was nothing more than it appeared to be—an exquisitely crafted mage robe. She folded up the sapphire material and put it away, wondering again at the enigmatic man who gave it to her.

The sky grew darker while Anna ate her supper. She tried to keep her thoughts from Finn but it was a vain attempt and she soon gave up. She stood at the window for awhile, watching as night slowly conquered day. Eventually she sighed and drew closed the curtain.

She had just lighted the candle when she heard footsteps on the landing. A quiet but insistent knock followed and she went to the door, wondering. Drawing open the bolt she was surprised to see Edmund standing there.

"Good evening. I'm not interrupting, am I?" he asked.

"No, not at all," Anna said. "Please come in."

Edmund pulled down his hood and she noticed he wasn't wearing his usual standard of clothes. He was dressed in simple garments with a worn look about them, the sort of second-hand clothing temples often passed out to the poor. By his face he was still recovering from his ordeal, something Anna could easily understand. She cleared her supper from the table and offered him a drink.

"Thanks," he said, gladly taking a cup of wine. "One good thing at least is there's no one around to tell me not to drink anymore."

He laughed a little but it had a bitter edge. Anna tried to smile and joined him at the table.

"How are you managing?" she asked.

"Not good, really. Is Finn not here?" he said.

"No, he's been called up on duty."

Anna had little desire to mention the rest and Edmund only nodded.

"I thought he might. Hope it all works out, but I forgot what hope meant a long time ago. I'm sorry," he said, interrupting himself. "It's just been hard lately, you know."

"I understand," she said.

Edmund was quiet for a moment and she left him to his thoughts. He leaned his elbows on the table, his hands slowly grabbing and releasing the hair at his temples. When he spoke though his words surprised her.

"Toby is gone."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He's gone," Edmund repeated. "We were meant to go to the temple today...to see to Mother and Celia, you know. But he's not in the house and he never made it to the rite. He was there this morning, then he was gone. He never even mentioned leaving."

Anna stared at him. "Where do you think he might be?"

"I don't know. He'd never have missed the funeral. I was there on my own...we wanted to keep it private. But he's not in the house or the stables, and I can't bring myself to look in the cellars. It's like it's happening all over again."

He spoke the words with an almost impossible levelness. Anna rubbed her mouth, trying to think.

"I can't imagine. We could go find the others and search the cellars for you, if you like."

"You can do what you want," Edmund replied, suddenly righting himself. "That's why I stopped by. I'm leaving town tomorrow. The house can rot for all I care—Anchev owns the deed now, anyway. I haven't got a thing left, but I've gathered all the coin I can manage and it's enough for a ship's passage south. I'm leaving this cursed city forever."

His voice cracked and Anna looked at him in sympathy.

"I can't say I blame you. But what about Toby?"

Edmund reached into his battered jacket and pulled out a ring of keys.

"You can take these. Just mind that Anchev doesn't have you taken down for trespassing. It's _his _place after all. If you can find old Toby...tell him I said goodbye. But I just can't deal with this anymore. I suppose I should get back to the inn, really," he sighed.

"Where are you staying?" Anna asked.

"Some flea-ridden tavern in the docks. Suppose I'd better get used to it, it'll be my life from now on," Edmund said ruefully. "But my ship's setting sail at first light and I won't spend another night in that house."

"You don't need to leave just yet. I'm on my own, too—do you want to go for a drink? There's a pub just up the lane that brews some decent ales," Anna said.

She had a sudden desire to escape the quiet room and it was a genuine offer. A little smile flickered over Edmund's pale face, but he only shook his head.

"No thanks. I'd kind of like to be on my own tonight. But...I did want to say thank you for all the help you've given me. Given us. Didn't count for much in the end, but...I appreciate it."

He stared down at the table, and she thought how different he looked from the self-assured, fashionable young fellow she first saw leaning casually up against a fireplace. Now he was the last survivor of a ruined family, entirely alone in the world. She tried to imagine him sailing off to strange lands and it worried her. But she only reached over and squeezed his hand.

"I wish we could've done more, too," she said quietly.

"You did more than anyone else," Edmund replied. "But I should be going. You'll look after yourself, won't you? Silvershield, and Skie...I can hardly believe. There's bad trouble brewing here, and it won't be long before this place explodes."

"And it seems we're destined to be caught in the middle," she said. "But we'll do what we can."

Edmund picked up his bag and they said a brief farewell. Anna slowly shut the door after him, listening as his footfalls retreated down the steps. She felt pity for him but his mention of the servant's disappearance weighed on her mind. Toby seemed loyal as an old hound and she could imagine nothing that would cause him to not attend his mistress' funeral rite. She couldn't blame Edmund for wanting to run far away from his troubles, but now his troubles were her own and she didn't know what to do any more than he did.

She had his ring of keys, but no intention of searching the Jhasso estate on her own. And although she knew it was the wrong decision Anna merely sat back down at the table and tried to occupy herself with her knitting.

...

The hours crept by, counted out in droning tones by the temple bells. Her usual bedtime came and went but Anna still sat by the fire, thinking. The sound of bells striking twelve times finally stirred her from her thoughts and she began to prepare herself for bed. As she went to hang up her dress though she paused, startled to see something lying on the floor in front of the door. It was a scrap of parchment and she grabbed it up quickly.

_"Meet behind the market," _was all it said, but Anna recognised the handwriting. Her heart pounded as she struggled to get back into her dress. How long had that note been there? And had Finn been foolish enough to actually come back to the house? For her part Anna would take no chances. She threw on her cloak and cast a spell of invisibility over herself, then hurried quietly from the room.

A miserable mix of rain and ice was falling from the black sky, but Anna silently thanked the weather for helping to keep the streets empty. She reached the market in good time and her eyes scanned the shuttered stalls. Not even a stray cat was to be seen in the night. Her spell wore off and she walked slowly while still trying to keep herself partially hidden.

She caught the sight of movement in the corner of her eye, but when she turned there was nothing. Cautiously though Anna walked in that direction only to see another flutter of motion enter an alley. She drew a deep breath and followed into the narrow, darkened street.

"I was starting to wonder if you'd come," a voice said, and Anna threw her arms around the speaker.

_"By Chauntea, Finn_—where have you been?" she croaked.

"I'm sorry. I was almost hoping you hadn't found out."

Finn wrapped his arms around her in turn. He was nearly soaked through from the rain but to Anna he seemed to radiate heat. He was alive, and that was all that mattered at that moment. But the moment was all too short.

"So you actually deserted, then?" she asked. "I didn't want to believe it."

"I did," Finn growled. "We were camped down for the night when a messenger rode through with the news. I decided there and then I wasn't going to fight in Duke Anchev's war."

"But they'll hang you now," Anna said desperately. "I spoke with the captain today. He won't help you. What are you going to do? What are _we _going to do?"

"You're going back to the house," he said. "Maybe I shouldn't have sent the note, but I just wanted to see you again. I'm going to do it, Anna."

There was a strange tone in his voice and she pulled back, trying to see him as best she could in the thin light. Finn caressed her lips with his thumb and she took him by the hand.

"Do what?" she said.

"I'm going to find Anchev, and I'm going to kill him."

Anna felt almost like he'd struck her over the head. His words were so level they frightened her all the more.

"Kill Anchev? You can't—"

"Just watch me," he interrupted. "It's all down to him, all of this. If he's dead it'll end. I don't care what happens to me anymore. And if I have to die to see that bastard sent where he belongs, then so be it. You'll be safe then. It's the only thing left to do."

"Have you lost your mind?" she hissed, fighting hard against her rising panic. "You can't just go and kill a man. And how do you know this will end? Duke Eltan seems as much a part of this as anyone—are you going to kill him too? Assassins already tried once. You can't do this...I won't let you."

"It's the only thing left," Finn repeated. "There isn't anything else I can do."

Anna seized his hands but they seemed limp to her as if the man within had already gone. Such mad folly, all of it... She wished with all her might they could just go back to the house, to leave the rain and cold behind, but there was no way out of that trap. Finn pulled her close again.

"I don't want you getting mixed up in this," he began.

"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" she cried.

"If I do manage to escape after...you can consider yourself a free woman," he continued, touching her wet hair. "You don't need to be bound to me anymore. Just...go and live."

"You have gone mad," Anna choked back.

"You're right," Finn said quietly.

Anna shut her eyes tight and clenched her jaw as hard as she could. Finn kept caressing her in that loving, yet strangely detached way. She knew he'd made up his mind.

"No, Finn, no. What about Imoen?" she said suddenly. "What about Candlekeep? She's in danger there and I can't help her. We'll...go together. We'll find her and the three of us can leave. We'll leave the coast behind. Maybe the Fist won't find us. We can get away..."

Her words sounded mad as his own and she let out a sob. Finn's caresses stopped.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do about her. Khalid and Jaheira...they can help. Imoen will hate me forever for this, won't she?" he said, letting out a rough laugh.

"No," Anna said, wiping her eyes. "We can't stop this war. You know that. It's past that now, and there's nothing we can do. We failed—but we can still look after each other. We need to find Imoen."

"But I couldn't get to Candlekeep," Finn hesitated. "There's no way. The Fist are all over the road now, it was all I could do to get back into the city. If you go it'll have to be without me."

"No, listen..." she said. Her mind began working at a frantic pace and her words stumbled over each other. "Listen... I can sell that robe. The one Sarevok gave me. It must be worth a small fortune... I can trade it for a scroll of teleportation. We could get to Candlekeep in a heartbeat. Please, Finn—if you love me at all, don't do this. Just...don't."

_"If _I love you? Anna, you're the only thing in the world to me. But, I..."

He paused and she heard the crack in his own voice.

"If we go, we're going together," she replied.

Her voice managed to find a firmness that belied the chaos swirling in her head. Finn was silent for a moment and she let him think.

"Imoen," he said.

"She needs us," Anna repeated. "She needs you. _I_ need you. Don't waste yourself on Sarevok. Please. It's what he wants."

"But they're looking for me now," Finn said. "If they catch us together—"

"Let me worry about that," she interrupted. "If you can hide for another day, I'll take care of it all. I'll meet you back here tomorrow after nightfall. Please...please just do this for me."

She looked at him intently and he caressed her cheek. Even in the darkness she could see the lost look in his eyes, one that must've been reflected in her own. But thankfully he nodded and leaned his head down to kiss her.

"Alright, then. Together," he said softly.

...

Anna left Finn and wandered home in a daze, barely remembering to cast another spell of invisibility on herself. Her brain burned inside her skull like her fever had returned but some animal sense allowed her clarity. She sat up until the small hours crouched in front of the fire with her spellbook, working frantically to build up her store of spells. Just before dawn she dragged her exhausted body into bed for a precious few hours sleep.

The curtain was light when she opened her eyes. For one moment Anna's mind was blissfully empty, but then it all came back to her like a wave. For a moment she imagined herself in the kitchen in Beregost, with Maya scolding her with every curse and _I told you so_ she could summon. She had been right, but what did it matter anymore? Either way Anna would have nothing left.

The Amnish army would burn through Beregost and lay siege to Baldur's Gate, and there was little doubt which side would be the victor. If Anna was even left alive at the end of the conflict she'd be homeless, impoverished and worse still, alone. Better to cling to the one thing she had left than to wait for it all to crumble into ashes.

Stoically she rose from bed and put on her good dress. Looking like a woman of some importance would help with her bargaining; arcane merchants were generally even more concerned with appearances than most of the breed. Her face stayed grim in the glass as she bound up her dirty blonde hair into a series of coils and braids. She didn't have enough pomade to style it properly and it left her with a slightly dishevelled look, but she only tossed her head at her reflection.

Anna had no paper to wrap Sarevok's robe so she folded it carefully into a cloth sack. Her good mantle was still somewhere within the Iron Throne and her old cloak would look absurd, so she went without wraps into the cold morning air. She found her way to Sorcerous Sundries and managed with a little spell to gain entrance to the wealthier shops on the upper level.

She let out a grim chuckle though thinking of the last time she'd been there; Imoen trying on robe after robe, each more expensive and elaborate than the last, with Xan trying heroically to ignore her fashionable musings. Considering all that had happened that day it seemed strange that Anna should look back on the memory and see the innocence in it. But it had never occurred to her at the time that things could be much, much worse.

Anna knew a husband and wife owned the arcane garment shop, and she also knew the husband was far easier to deal with than his lady. She hoped he was attending the stall that morning and thankfully her wishes came true.

"May I help you, madam?" he said formally. "If you've come seeking magical vestments there is no finer place in the city, I can assure you."

"I am familiar with the quality of your merchandise," Anna replied, trying a smile. "But I am here to sell today. I have an excellent robe that I'm certain would be of interest to you."

"Indeed?" the man said. "We are quite well stocked at the moment, but I'd be willing to look at it for you."

Anna didn't much care for the sound of those words, but she followed the merchant back into the shop. He laid the robe out onto a counter and examined it with a strange lens that made the runes appear to change colour. He nodded his head as he went, fingering the fine silk in approval.

"This certainly is a robe of the highest quality," he remarked. "Veleron's work, if I'm not mistaken. I'm surprised you'd wish to part with it. But I'm afraid I could only accept it in trade today. It's the slow season and we don't expect to make a journey to Waterdeep anytime soon. And of course with all the troubles...I'm certain you understand."

The merchant smiled apologetically but Anna could see the hawk behind his eyes. Secretly she'd feared the robe's quality might actually play against her; few merchants would have the pockets to buy it outright and with war looming gold would be of more worth to them than merchandise. But Anna was desperate and more than willing to haggle.

"Yes, I understand. It is the only reason I'd be willing to part with such a fine thing myself. But surely it must have worth to you? You may name a price."

The man's moustache twitched. "It could certainly be an investment. I doubt Belinda would be pleased, but I could offer you all of a thousand gold today."

Anna choked silently—she knew the robe could easily be worth three times that. And she also knew even a thousand gold might not be enough to buy a scroll of teleportation. She drew a deep breath and shook her head.

"A thousand for such a fine item? I purchased it for four, and you can see it is in pristine condition. Surely you could offer me two thousand and still guarantee yourself a large profit."

The lie came out easily and she felt no regrets. The merchant cocked his head, looking at the robe dubiously.

"On another day I would gladly take your offer, but times are difficult and I cannot be assured of selling it on anytime soon. Yet you seem like a gentle lady and I will be generous. Thirteen hundred, and that is my offer."

Anna heard that little air of finality in his voice that told her further bargaining wouldn't be accepted. She bit her lip and stared at the robe, feeling a heat beginning to rise. If she couldn't buy the scroll then all this would be for nothing. They would have to escape the city on foot, and she didn't want to imagine how long it would take to reach Candlekeep by travelling through the wilderness, especially with winter bearing down.

"If I cannot change your mind—" she hesitated, but a voice behind her spoke.

"If it is gold you require, then I shall buy the robe. I have already purchased it once, what is another time?"

...

Anna whirled and she could feel the blood drain from her face. Like some demon risen from the ether she saw Sarevok Anchev standing there, his strong arms folded across his chest as he gazed at her reproachfully.

"I could offer fifteen hundred," the merchant began, suddenly fearing the loss of a sale. But Sarevok held out his hand.

"Fifteen hundred? You rob this woman. Still, it is your robe. Are you going to take his offer?"

Anna stood rooted to the spot in shock, but she shook herself and turned to the merchant.

"Fifteen hundred? Yes, we have a deal."

"Very well then," the man hesitated, and took her offered hand. "I shall see to my strongbox. Perhaps if you'd like to call back in an hour?"

Anna nodded, trying to keep her eyes from Anchev. Her face began to burn again and the merchant snatched up the robe and disappeared into the back. Sarevok cleared his throat and spoke.

"If my gift was not to you taste you might have said. I admit I am rather slighted to find you here selling it."

"Why are you here?" Anna demanded, turning to look him in the eye. "You are not even a mage. How did you get past the guard?"

He smiled. "All rules have their back doors. But I confess to some duplicity of my own. I had come to call on you but I noticed you leaving the house, and I had my driver follow you here. Not very gentlemanly of me, I admit, especially as you have even forgotten your cloak on this cold day."

Anna looked away but Sarevok stepped nearer.

"Tell me, though—why were you so intent to sell the robe? I know you do not live in the finest of conditions, but I did not think you were destitute."

"There is very little coin in my pockets now," she replied. "I felt the need to gather what I could."

"That is understandable. But you might have come to me first—I am always willing to help a friend," he said.

"And are we friends?" Anna flashed at him. An almost amused look passed over his face but Sarevok smiled again.

"I had thought so. Pray tell me I have done nothing to fall from your good graces, Lady Anna."

He was mocking her again, and she knew it. What answer could she possibly give him? She tossed her head and looked away.

"Forgive me. I am finding life quite...difficult at the moment," was all she could say.

"I would imagine. Has Finn been called out on duty? It would be very hard to be left on your own at a time such as this."

Anchev stepped nearer again and she felt the force of his presence. If he had the power to turn her to stone she would feel less inclined to look in those eyes.

"Yes. I am...very alone," she replied.

"That will hardly do," he said low. "My carriage is waiting. Perhaps you would like to return with me once your business is settled? I am a busy man but I would gladly take the time to hear your troubles."

Anna felt the touch of leather as his hand closed around hers. Sarevok's grasp was gentle, yet it still felt like iron. She stepped back and pulled her hand away.

"I should have thought you would be entertaining Cythandria," she remarked. "And your betrothed does seem inclined towards jealousy."

Sarevok chuckled. "Oh, I would not worry too much about her. She will be quite happy attending to her own affairs. As long as the title is hers she cares little where the rewards may be scattered."

"And what reward do you think I seek?" Anna said.

Even through the heat in her face she managed to look up at him with a challenging stare. Sarevok pursed his lips.

"My lady's choice, of course."

Anna felt almost ill, and for one moment she feared that Sarevok was laying another spell on her. She forced herself to draw a breath.

"You surprise me," she said quietly. "You have stated again and again that you had no feelings for me beyond friendship, and yet..."

She couldn't bring herself to complete that sentence, but Sarevok took her hands once more.

"I could hardly say otherwise with your husband in the room, but I have found you desirable indeed. Can you tell me the attraction is not mutual? You have been flushed like a maiden the entire time we've been speaking. And forgive me, but I know desire when I see it."

Anna felt as though she might burst. She'd never thought for a moment that Sarevok desired her; he barely seemed to desire his own intended. What did he truly want? One arm slipped around her waist and a word suddenly broke from her mouth.

"Tamoko," she said.

_"What?"_

He seemed more startled that she could have imagined and released his hold on her waist. Anna looked up into his eyes and repeated the name.

"Tamoko. I know of Tamoko. She was your lover, too. And you abandoned her."

Sarevok stepped back from the accusation, and his face went from shock to anger.

"How do you know of her?" he demanded.

"I have spoken with her," she replied haughtily. "She told me the truth."

Told her, no—barely even hinted. But Anna felt she knew enough of their relationship to strike the point home.

"Then you have heard no truth at all," Sarevok said, and his voice had a cold edge. "She was possessive, mad. I had little choice but to rid myself of her. What things did she say?"

He grasped her hand again but this time the touch wasn't gentle. It hurt but Anna refused to give up the game.

"She told me enough to make me ponder whether I would wish to be your lover. And today, I'm inclined to think not."

Sarevok's glare turned to stone and for a moment Anna regretted her bold words. Desperately she tried to remind herself that he would hardly do her harm in the middle of a shop, but she still cursed the lack of patrons. Sarevok breathed deep and spoke slowly.

"Then Tamoko is still in the city. Where is she?" he demanded.

"I do not know where she lives," Anna replied.

"You would lie to me, woman?" Sarevok burst out.

He yanked her arm hard and Anna let out a frightened cry, but he steadied himself and let her hand fall.

"I do what I must to protect myself. And I think it best if you leave me now," she said, her own voice shaking.

She turned away and Anchev drew another deep breath.

"If you wish. But before I go, please tell me I have your forgiveness. The mention of my former lover upset me, that is all. It was a tempestuous affair that ended badly, and I regret it. I can assure you however that whatever she told you is a fabrication. I have no intention of—" he paused, as if unsure what his intentions were. "I can offer you protection, Anna. Remember that."

"Protection from what?" she asked sharply.

"You must have heard of my new title. And I have heard of other things. Rumours concerning your husband, for one. I could shield you from scandal, and quite probably worse fates. But I would feel little inclined to go through such difficulty to help one who is not a friend."

Anna felt a quake go through her body. "And am I to understand that my close friendship is required for this protection?"

"I would not put it so bluntly," Sarevok said, the smile returned to his face. "But do think on it. You may welcome a shielding embrace very soon."

Anna looked at him. He knew about Finn—but she wondered too how much exactly he did know. Certainly she had no intention of filling in the details.

"I will—consider your offer," she said primly. "Perhaps you are correct. Finn is gone, and he has left me with little but shame. I will...contact you when the time is right."

"Then I could ask for little more," Sarevok smiled. "And I look forward to hearing from you."

He took up her hand in a kiss and Anna forced herself to smile at him. Sarevok bowed and left her staring after him. As soon as he found the stairs her legs let go under her, and the merchant was surprised indeed to find her curled up like a child on his shop floor.

...

After repeatedly assuring the man she was well Anna forced herself to carry on with her business. At last a bit of fortune smiled on her; the spell merchant she visited seemed in a hurry to finish up his affairs and flee the city, and he was welcome to taking a discounted price on a scroll of teleportation. Anna hurried home clutching her treasure as if it were worth more than all the gold in Faerun, for to her it was.

The entire way though she stayed mindful of who might be behind her. Sarevok had made her paranoid, and the Flaming Fist captain's warnings that she would be watched made her fearful even more. She shied away anytime she saw a patrol in red on the streets but if the mercenaries noticed her they made no show of it.

The door of the house was unguarded but Anna's own chamber door was still locked. She set the leather tube with her scroll down on the table and began pacing the room like a caged animal. Noon, it was barely noon. The hours till nightfall seemed interminable. Where was Finn now? Still hidden, she hoped.

At last she forced herself to quit pacing and change into her work frock. She should pack, but apart from her spellbook and some food there was little which needed to go in her bag. Distractedly though Anna realised that she had no food that was up to a journey. Perhaps she could make some oatcakes? It seemed a good way to pass the time, and her nervous hands flew as she patted the moistened oats into little rounds and set them on a stone to bake in the embers.

The cakes were ready all too quickly though and Anna put them on the cupboard to cool. Still hours to go before darkness. She'd need to tell Jaheira and the others something, but she couldn't think of what. She planned to send them a note—there was no way in the world she could tell them her plans face to face.

The distance between that table and the Golden Hind with its lace curtains and cosy fires seemed like a hundred miles just then. Would she ever even see them again? She wanted to go to them, to beg for their help, to even just feel the comfort of friends. But they couldn't help, and they would soon be lost to her, too.

Absently she picked up the leather tube and unrolled her precious scroll. Anna didn't need to examine the runes to know it was a difficult spell. Teleportation magic was some of the most challenging to master—one word said out of place, one momentary lapse in concentration could see the caster materialise inside a wall or a rock, assuming they made it in one piece at all.

Her instructors at the academy revelled in telling the acolytes horror stories of mages who reappeared without limbs or burst into shredded balls of flesh after failing the spell. So effective were they that Anna declined to take the study any farther than books. She'd regretted her fear as the years went on but now it was too late. She had to cast the spell no matter what.

...

Somehow that interminable afternoon came to an end, and the light began to fail in the sky. Anna mechanically packed her few things and wrote her note. It was simple, unadorned, and kept to the facts as much as she could manage. She related Edmund's tale of the missing Toby and ended with another warning to stay clear of Sarevok Anchev.

Anna folded it twice with Edmund's keys inside, and sealed it with a heavy dollop of wax. She waited until the sky was entirely dark then gathered up her pack. Anna cast one more glance around the dingy little room that had been their home, then left it behind forever.

On her way she stopped into the tavern to bribe one of the lads into delivering her note. She hated to trust such an important thing to one of those boys but there wasn't much choice. Anna tipped the lad well, hoping her letter would find its intended destination, then made her way through the back streets to the market.

It was dark and still as it had been the night before, but with a sigh of relief Anna saw movement. She met Finn in the alley and a distinct odour came to her nose as she embraced him.

"Sorry if I smell a bit rough," he said. "I had to camp out in the sewers. Not the best place but at least it's private. Have you...got everything?"

"I have," she replied.

"You don't need to do this, you know," he said suddenly. "I've been thinking today. We don't need to—"

"We do," she said, quietly interrupting him. "You were right on that. There isn't anything else left."

"Just to run away," Finn said.

His voice had a flat tone, but Anna felt herself beyond the call of honour or duty just then.

"You already made that choice," she reminded him.

"I reckon you're right," he said slowly. "Maybe I'll feel differently when we're all on the road. But now I just feel like we're letting that bastard win."

Anna said nothing, thinking about her encounter that afternoon. Anchev would win no matter what, she knew that. Whatever he had planned they couldn't stop him. It was over.

"I should see to this spell," she said quietly.

"Alright," Finn said, clearing his throat. "Just remember to steer clear of the monastery, it's warded against teleportation. You—do know what you're doing with this, don't you?"

"I'll manage," Anna replied.

There was no confidence in her voice and less in her heart, but she was determined. Anna pulled a candle from her pack and lit it with a spell, then handed it to Finn. She took out a small sack and laid down a thin layer of powder in a circle around them.

"Now, just...let me read," she said.

Finn stood close by her and held up the candle so she could see the parchment. Anna drew a breath and began calling out the runes, watching as they sprung into life on the paper. They glowed with a brilliance that far outstripped the pathetic candle but she carried on. She'd never been to Candlekeep but this spell didn't require a particular mark. Anna let the magic take over and she felt a sickening jerk as the world around them began to fade.

Darkness surrounded them in an airless void. Anna could no longer feel Finn next to her, he was formless as she. Time itself seemed to come to a standstill and for one awful moment she feared they were lost. But terrifying as it was Anna forced herself to somehow move through that darkness, to guide them to their destination. At last a spark of light came to her eyes and the darkness began to lift. Finn was still standing next to her with the candle but the parchment had vanished from her hands.

...

"Bloody hells," he muttered. "That was a trip."

"I'm sorry," she said, struggling to get her heart working again. "But...are we there?"

They both seemed intact at least with no explosions or missing limbs. Beyond the candle she could see nothing but darkness, yet it was an ordinary kind of black. The scent of a forest came to her nostrils along with another smell, the briny tang of sea-spray.

"Come on," Finn said, and she followed his lead. Anna could clearly hear the murmur of the sea now as it battered against invisible cliffs. Up above the naked trees she finally noticed several spots of light shining like yellow stars. They were square, not round—the lights of a tower. Finn regarded them and suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Fook me—I'm home," he breathed.

"And Imoen is in there somewhere," Anna replied.

"I'm home..." he said again, almost not hearing her response.

Anna squeezed his hand but neither of them said anything else. They emerged from the trees and she could see the outline of pale walls against the black sky. Although she could make out little in the dark she thought Candlekeep seemed smaller somehow than she'd imagined. The turrets penetrated the air but they looked lower than the Ducal Palace. But a stray thought at the knowledge that fortress contained was enough to make it loom large as a giant.

"We'll have to make camp out here," Finn said. "They pull up the drawbridge at night."

"But didn't you say Candlekeep had a village?" Anna remarked. "They must have an inn."

Further down the cliff side she could make out a sociable little collection of lights that promised food and a bed. Finn cast his glance there and it turned hard for a moment, but he shook off whatever was troubling him.

"No... We don't know what's going on here. Could be any sort of trouble, and for all we know the Flaming Fist might be there. We'll just have to rough it for tonight, if that's alright with you."

"I suppose you're right," Anna sighed.

The wind from the sea was cold and the thought of sleeping under that dark sky didn't appeal. But Finn looked around and gestured back towards the woods.

"There's a little bit of shelter though, if I can find it—an old ranger's shack. The old ranger left the world years back but his hut's still there. This way, I reckon."

Silently she wandered along after Finn, tripping and stumbling over invisible sticks and bracken. He had his work cut out for him shielding the candle from the wind and didn't seem to notice her trials much. He'd been silent since they arrived though and she couldn't much blame him. In truth, she felt little like talking herself.

Somehow he managed to find the cottage in the darkness, relying more it seemed on a boyhood sense of his old home than his eyes. The log walls seemed sturdy even though the door's leather hinges had rotted away, letting the wood fall from the frame to the floor. Finn ushered her inside and lifted it off the earth, trying to set it back into place as best he could.

"I think there's some wood in here. It should still be dry," he remarked.

A small cord of moss-covered wood was stacked up by the stone fireplace. Finn pulled out a few sticks and a pair of spiders scurried for cover. Anna grimaced but was thankful they were nothing larger. The wood was so dry it caught without the need for kindling, but the curl of smoke backed up from the chimney and rolled into the hut.

"Reckon the chimney must be blocked," Finn said. "Sorry about that."

"There's holes enough in the roof," Anna replied, glancing up.

The departed ranger's chairs were made from carved logs and she sat down wearily. The strain of teleporting made her feel as though she'd walked twenty miles. There was a rough table but the bedstead had no mattress to speak of, having been plundered by generations of woodland creatures for their own nests.

"Did you bring much to eat?" Finn asked, sitting down across from her. "I haven't had a proper bite in days."

"I have oatcakes and a skin of wine, not much else," Anna said, idly rummaging in her pack.

"Better than me—I've just got a bit of dried meat in my bag. I didn't really have time to raid our stores before I left."

He tried to laugh but it fell flat.

"What happened to your horse?" Anna asked.

"I left her in a farmer's yard outside the city," Finn replied. "I had to steal a rowboat to get across the river. That was a bit of a ride, I admit. The current's a lot faster than it looks—I landed about a mile downriver from the city."

Anna made a quiet noise in reply. She shared out the cakes and Finn traded her for a few bites of dried, salty meat. It wasn't the first time they'd dined on meagre provisions but now she wondered how they expected to get more. They were criminals and could expect to find few friends on the road.

_Criminals. _They'd been hunted, attacked, falsely accused—but never had they been so outside the law. Always in her heart Anna had known they were trying to do what was right, but now? Whatever Anchev's machinations it couldn't cover the fact that Finn was a deserter, and she'd chosen to go with him. And now that they'd made their escape the reality of that struck hard. She was a wanted woman and there would be no more safety for her.

"You all right, love?" Finn asked.

"No," she replied.

He didn't ask further. They drank sparingly from the wineskin, just enough to slacken their thirst. Anna had no idea if the old ranger had a well but she didn't care to ask. She unrolled the blankets from her pack and Finn did the same.

"It'll be a hard night sleeping," he said.

He sprawled out against his bedroll and unlaced his boots. Anna left her dress on in spite of her desire to be free from her bodice. She lay down in the blankets and Finn snuggled up next to her.

"Sure you'll be warm enough?" he asked.

"I'll manage," she said.

Anna rested her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart. He pulled her closer and they were silent for a time.

"Finn...what are we going to do?" she asked finally.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, and the day after that...and after that," she whispered.

"I don't know. I suppose we'll just have to play it by ear."

He began to caress her shoulders gently. Anna knew that touch, but she shrugged off his arm.

"Not tonight," she said quietly.

"Alright. I suppose it's not the most romantic moment," he admitted. "In spite of everything though...I'm just glad you're here. I love you, Anna."

She smiled a little and shut her eyes, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder. The warmth of Finn's body was comforting but it couldn't remove the fears that were growing inside.

...

She awoke to see patches of sunlight filtering through the holes in the roof. Anna sat up; the fire was dead and Finn was nowhere to be seen. She didn't have much time to worry though as a glove soon reached around the door. Finn appeared from behind the wood, carrying a clay bowl in his off hand.

"Morning," he said cheerfully. "I've just been doing a bit of scouting. I got us some water from the stream—not exactly a bucket, but it'll have to do."

Anna smiled at him as she drew on her boots. Despite being stiff and cold she felt more relaxed that morning. Finn was right—they were together now, at least. Now all that was left to do was liberate Imoen.

"Did you see anything?" Anna asked while laying out a sparse breakfast.

"Nothing obvious, but then I could hardly walk up to the gate and have a chat. But I suppose we'll have to do just that, won't we?"

"I've been thinking—maybe I could go," she said. "No one here knows my face. Maybe I could get to the village and have someone send a note to the fortress? Surely there must be someone there they'd let in."

"Maybe, but what could you say?" Finn remarked. "We get our share of travellers here but not many that just show up on foot. Most are more of the noble sort."

Anna rose up and dug into her pack. Stuffed in there was her good velvet dress—she'd thought perhaps to sell it some time, but now she was glad she'd brought it.

"I could pass for a noble in this. Perhaps a lady robbed by brigands? Surely anyone would have sympathy."

Finn let out a laugh. "That's a bit devious of you, love. It might work, but they'd never let you in the fortress without a tome of knowledge no matter what happened. How are you going to get in?"

"I won't need to. Imoen lives at the inn, doesn't she? If I could get a note through somehow...I'll think of something. Assuming she's allowed out at all," Anna admitted.

The plan was full of holes but it seemed like the only thing they could do. They had no idea what sort of danger Imoen might be in, and a direct approach wouldn't be wise. Candlekeep would surely be guarded against simple invisibility magic too and if the guards caught her sneaking in she'd have far worse troubles on her hands.

"Well, if you think you can manage..." Finn said dubiously. "Just don't mention my name to anyone, whatever you do."

"Why, are you worried what they might say?"

Anna tried to make a joke but Finn didn't seem to be in a humour. She changed into her nice dress, for once not worried about the wrinkles. Her dishevelled appearance could only play in her favour that time.

"You should stay here," Anna said to him before she left. "If anything happens, I'll disappear and get back up quick as I can."

"Alright. Be careful though, won't you?" Finn said.

"I will," she replied.

...

Anna tried to give him an encouraging smile as he touched her cheek. She set off into the crisp morning, once again without her cloak, following the line of trees away from the cliffs. The fortress of Candlekeep looked almost like a pearl on the cliff top with its white stone shining against the broken sky. Its turrets were proud and graceful, far more attractive than the utilitarian grey stone of Baldur's Gate. But Anna forced her attention on the little group of houses further down from the cliff. She wandered through the trees until she'd passed the village from the east then emerged onto the road.

She walked briskly back towards the village while trying to keep down her nerves. Should she think of a false name? But no one would know her, surely. Her biggest worry was finding a way to summon Imoen. And although she tried with all her might, Anna's mind remained blank.

The village was little more than a series of low-built buildings on either side of the road. A few people were to be seen and they stared at Anna as if she had an extra head. Stoically though she ignored them, forcing her feet up onto the steps of the one building that looked like a tavern.

The common room matched its rustic exterior, but the place seemed clean. The stone walls had been whitewashed and the straw on the floor smelled fresh. It was dark inside though and Anna could see little beyond the fire. A man's voice startled her from the vision.

"Can I help ye?"

Anna turned and managed to make out the landlord behind the bar. He seemed to perfectly match his tavern—his form was heavy and squat yet he seemed presentable. Anna drew a deep breath, and promptly lost all her nerve.

"I...a pint of ale, please."

Thankfully she'd stashed a few coins in her bodice. She chose a table near to the fire and sat deliberately warming her hands. The landlord brought her pint and set the tankard on the table.

"You got a horse that needs seeing to?" he asked. "Didn't hear no carriage go past."

"I don't have a horse," she replied.

She took a deep drink of ale, trying to ignore the landlord's curious look.

"Aye? It'd be a long walk on foot from here to anywhere," he remarked.

"I...lost my horse," Anna said, finally trying to establish some background. "It threw me off."

"Oh, aye? Hard luck, that. Poor creature is probably food for the gibberlings or the wolves by now. Lucky you didn't end up the same. You heading up to the library?"

"I was, but they won't let me in now."

The landlord nodded and she felt some relief that he seemed to be buying her story.

"No, and that's a fact. They're a snooty bunch up there, all right. No offence to ye, me lady. We're not so fancy as the inn up there but we've got room enough for ye here."

"Thank you. But I...don't have much coin," she hesitated. "My bags were lost."

"No worries, I'm sure we can set you up for the night," he offered. "You want a bite of breakfast?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, managing a real smile for the man. He nodded briefly and disappeared into the back.

...

The strength of the ale flowed into her veins and Anna felt herself beginning to relax. Perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult a task, after all. Surely she could find some excuse to get a note to Imoen. Hopefully. She heard footsteps behind her and looked up as a maid set a bowl of spiced frumenty on the table.

"Thank you," Anna said.

She smiled at the young woman, and it went a bit wider noticing her round belly. The maid's face twitched a little in reply and she spoke in a monotone.

"You want a bit of bread and jam?"

"Yes, please," she replied.

It was cheeky to take advantage of her ill-earned hospitality, but the hunger in her stomach couldn't refuse. Perhaps she could manage to sneak some of it back to Finn. The maid turned on her heel and returned a few minutes later with a hunk of bread and a little pot of blackberry preserves.

"Dad says you lost your horse," she remarked. "I'm surprised you didn't have a guard with you. Not the safest of roads to be travelling alone."

"I learned that," Anna replied. "But I've never travelled here before. Have you been inside the monastery?"

She'd hoped to strike up a friendly conversation but the woman only let out a sharp laugh.

"Have I, balls. You think they'd let us common folk sully their halls of learning? We're only good enough for keeping their drivers fed. Horses and men, we feed them both from the same bag."

Anna pursed her lips feeling somehow chastened by her speech. The maid was a pretty girl with a head covered in tousled brown ringlets, but her face had a kind of hardness to it.

"When is your child coming?" Anna found herself asking.

The question earned an even more sour response, and the woman covered her belly with her hands almost defensively.

"Too soon for me. And no, there isn't a ring on my finger, so you can stop looking."

"I'm sorry," Anna muttered, feeling her face turn red.

"Don't be—I'm not ashamed," she said, tossing her curls. "It's not my fault the bastard who got me this way ran off. We're not all so lucky as to find a man who'll stick around."

She eyed Anna's wedding ring and she slipped her hand under the table, feeling almost guilty at its presence.

"Well, perhaps he will come back and do the honourable thing," she offered.

"Not much chance on that," the maid snorted. "His sister came back, but he's long gone. And if he's smart he won't show his face round here, no how."

"Sister...?" Anna said.

The maid didn't reply as her father shouted at her from the kitchen.

_"Oi, _Suzy, you coming to take care of these geese or what?" the man called. "Don't think they'll pluck themselves."

"Aye, Pa," she called back. "Well, I reckon I'm about to get covered in feathers. Enjoy your jam."

The statement carried a double edge and Anna could only stare as the woman vanished into the kitchen. _Sister?_ Surely, it couldn't be. There must be other young men in that village...there had to be. Anna twisted the ring on her finger and looked at the lumpen blob of jam on her plate as if it might tell her the answer.


	101. Home

_Back again! Kind of a slower paced chapter here, I'm just trying to get back in the swing of things. To BR: thanks to a rather slow-moving plot things seem to take longer than they do! It's Uktar (November) in the story, and Finn left Candlekeep in Mirtul (May.) _:)

...

Anna had lost all taste for her breakfast but she forced it down. She kept thinking of Finn's mentions of romantic conquests back home; they either angered her or she brushed them off as bravado, depending on her mood, but she hadn't really thought of any consequences. But surely that sour maid...she tried to imagine her with Finn and Anna's stomach began to feel ill.

The landlord and his daughter both kept to their business leaving her with plenty of time to chew over the possibilities. She barely looked up when the tavern door opened, but then Anna sat blinking at who stepped inside. It was Imoen.

The girl wore a rough dress and shawl and her hair was entirely hidden by a kerchief. She glanced in Anna's direction but didn't seem to notice her, likely finding it hard to see as Anna had when she entered the dark tavern.

Imoen closed the door and moved towards the kitchen only to be greeted by the landlord's daughter.

"Lookee who's here," the maid said, trying to dust some of the feathers from her dress. "I reckoned it might be you come to take away our fattest geese. Good eating for the rich folks on the hill."

"It's not like Winthrop doesn't pay you for them," Imoen objected. "Why have a go at me?"

"Sorry, pet. Just thinking about the baby again."

The maid's statement ended in a sigh but Imoen didn't respond. She waited while the maid went back into the kitchen and without thinking Anna found herself on her feet. She glided over to Imoen, and the girl didn't notice her steps until she placed a hand on her shoulder.

Imoen's face turned pale and her mouth promptly fell open. Neither woman said anything, each looking at the other as if they were ghosts. The maid returned with two large, plucked geese and looked at the pair of them in curiosity.

"Everything all right here?" she asked.

Imoen looked down at the floor and Anna stammered a reply.

"Yes...I happened to overhear that this girl lives at the inn, and I thought I might plead my case at the keep."

"You're wasting your breath, but it's yours to waste," the maid remarked. "But that reminds me I need to fetch some clean linen for your bed. _When _I have the time."

She handed the geese to Imoen and vanished into the kitchen without another word. Imoen still stood paralysed until Anna took her arm.

"Come...we should go," she said quietly.

Imoen nodded and they found their way outside. Neither said anything as they trudged up the hill towards the monastery, but when they cleared the village Imoen finally spoke.

"You're here... I can't believe you're actually here."

"I'm sorry it took us so long," Anna replied.

They seemed almost like strangers. Imoen walked along in a daze nearly letting the heavy geese trail in the dirt, and Anna didn't offer to help carry the burden. Their pace slowed even more and they came to a halt at the same time.

"Where's Finn?" Imoen asked.

"He's sheltering in the woods," Anna said. "Imoen...who is that maid?"

The question came out sharply and she looked the girl straight in the eye. Imoen's mouth opened and she looked down to the dirt.

"Her? That's Suzanne. Her father runs the drivers' inn. We buy our geese from them—there's not much room for animals up at the keep, and—"

"That isn't what I meant," Anna interrupted.

"No," Imoen said quietly.

Her pale cheeks coloured, but whatever secrets she might have had Imoen kept them to herself.

"I can't believe you're actually here," she said again. "It seems like I've been here forever on my own."

"I'm sorry," Anna repeated. "So much has happened... But what's going on here? Your letter implied danger."

Imoen glanced up towards the fortress. Anna could see a watchman on the ramparts and he seemed to be regarding the two women, but he moved on.

"I know... To be honest, I felt a bit silly after I'd written it. I guess I just didn't want to be on my own here."

Her face looked like she'd swallowed something distasteful, and Anna bit her lip.

"So—everything is fine?" she asked rather sharply.

After all the worry Imoen's letter had caused them, the idea that it might have been nothing but a plea for attention raised some conflicting feelings in her to say the least.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Imoen hesitated again. "But look—I've got to get these geese up to the inn. Do you want to—no. I don't know. Where's Finn? I want to talk with him."

Imoen seemed to be dithering even more than usual and Anna found herself growing impatient.

"We're sheltering in an old ranger's cottage in the woods. Do you know where that is?"

The girl's face brightened slightly. "Oh, you mean old Caelor's place? We used to play hide and seek around there. I know where it is. I'll...I'll try to get away and meet you, okay?"

"Alright," Anna said slowly. "But, are you sure everything's fine?"

Perhaps it was just the shock of seeing her there, but Anna couldn't help feel that there was something more that Imoen wasn't saying. Did it have to do with the maid at the inn? Imoen tried to put on one of her old smiles but it seemed hollow as her cheeks.

"It is now! Don't worry. Once I get these geese taken care of no one will pay any attention to where I go. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Sure," Anna replied.

She leaned over and kissed the girl lightly on the cheek in spite of the two winged corpses that were draped around her neck. Imoen tried to smile again but this time the effort failed entirely, leaving the worry in her eyes open for Anna to see.

Quietly Imoen turned away and trudged up the narrow road. Anna stood watching until the fortress swallowed her, not paying much heed to who might be watching her in turn. Her brain felt tired and frazzled. She considered returning to the inn to keep up the ruse, but instead she drifted back towards the trees.

...

Finn was sitting on the hut's step and he jumped up at the sight of her.

"What happened? Did you find a way?" he asked quickly.

"I didn't need to," Anna replied. "Imoen came to the village herself. I've just been talking with her."

"Well, there's a bit of luck!" Finn exclaimed. "Nice to have some for once. Did she say what the trouble is?"

"She said there wasn't any."

Anna's voice sounded empty as Imoen's own. Finn looked surprised but then his mouth curled up.

"I should have known. That little sprite wants a switch to the backside! But we're here now, anyway. Did you...say anything to her?"

"No. She said she'd try to meet us here soon," Anna replied.

"That's good, at least. Hey, are you all right?" he asked. "You look a bit...worried, or something."

_Worried? _Anna's mouth opened and she glanced up at Finn, but she couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. Her stomach turned and the words flowed out of her like she might be sick.

"Finn...there's a maid at the inn. Suzanne. Do you know her?"

"Aye," he said slowly. "You could all but count the people here on your fingers and toes. I know the lot of them."

He let out a short laugh but it sounded strained. His arms reached for her but Anna pushed them away.

"How well do you know her?" she choked.

"Why, did she say something? I said not to mention my name—"

"She didn't need to!" Anna burst out. "She's..."

"What?"

Finn reached for her again, and this time Anna let him hold her. She buried her face in his chest almost in desperation.

"She's having a child, Finn."

Anna waited. She waited for him to say something—a cheeky joke, a blunt denial, but he said nothing. Finn drew her tighter to his chest and caressed her dirty hair.

"Is it yours?" she asked finally.

"I don't...she's having a baby?"

Anna pulled back and looked at him. Finn's face was strange but she couldn't read his expression.

"That doesn't answer my question," she said.

Finn still seemed to hesitate. Anna's cheeks began to blaze with heat—his silence told her more than his words ever could. But suddenly he shook his head.

"Suzy tended to get a bit friendly with the drivers, you know what I mean? Hard to say whose baby that might be."

He looked away awkwardly and Anna stared at him.

"So you were never lovers?"

"Well...a bit. But that was a long while ago."

Anna didn't know what to think. She couldn't imagine him actually lying to her, but the look on his face didn't scream of truth. He looked nervous as a beaten hound standing there in front of her.

"Finn..." she began.

"Look, just...don't worry about it, alright? We'll be gone from here before long."

He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her. Anna couldn't respond. She walked past him and settled herself in the decaying hut, trying hard to fight off her angry tears.

...

Finn stayed outside for a long while. Anna looked up when he finally entered but turned her eyes back down to the dirt floor. He had nothing more to say than earlier and they both sat in silence. Painfully slowly the patches of thin sunlight moved across the floor, and at last they heard footsteps in the bracken outside. A cautious knock sounded on the door and a familiar voice called out.

"Hello? Anyone at home?"

Finn jumped up and pulled aside the door, revealing Imoen standing there. The girl looked a bit brighter than she had before and she drew her brother into a tight hug.

_"You hairy bastard!"_ she exclaimed. "Don't you ever leave me like this again, or I'll just...roast your toes clean off!"

"No worries, flower," Finn replied. "I don't want to get fitted for new boots!"

In spite of everything Anna felt warmed at the sight of the two siblings together. Tears hovered in Imoen's eyes but her grin stretched from ear to ear. Finn let out a laugh and lifted her off her feet, making the girl squeal out loud.

"Alright, alright! Don't break me!" she cried.

In response Finn only twirled her around, making her squeal even louder. When he set her down Imoen gave him a hearty punch on the arm.

"Ah, you're getting soft!" he said, rubbing the sore spot vigorously.

"Says you," Imoen replied. "I'm tough as old nails. You're the one smarting from a girl's punch! But come on—I did up a couple of rooms just for you at the inn. Winthrop's treat, you don't even need to sleep in the garret!"

"What, you mean we can get into the fortress?" Anna asked, surprised.

"Sure, Finn's like family here. They let me in without any fuss. I told them you were coming too, Anna, but...I just said you were a friend."

Imoen's brightness wore off and she glanced at the fireplace awkwardly. Anna looked surprised again and Finn spoke.

"You didn't tell anyone I got married? Why?"

"No... I didn't tell them much of anything. I just said you took up work as a mercenary and that you'd gone off somewhere. There didn't seem to be much need to say anything else," she replied.

Anna pondered the strangeness in her words—why hide the fact that Finn was married, especially now that they were on the doorstep? Her thoughts turned again to the maid but a part of her knew there were greater concerns.

"The Flaming Fist..." she began instead.

Finn's expression fell and he spoke seriously to his sister.

"Listen, Im—has the Fist been through here at all?"

"Not since I've been back," Imoen said. "They hardly ever come up this way, and with all the troubles lately... But how is it you're here, anyway? Did they give you some leave?"

It was Finn's turn to look awkward.

"No. I—deserted."

Imoen stared at him with wide eyes. "You _what?"_ she squeaked.

"There's so much that's happened," he blurted out. "I don't even know where to begin. We're on the run. If the Fist catches us... I wish you hadn't said ought that I was here. It could be bad news."

"You _deserted," _Imoen repeated. "I don't... Finn, what were you thinking?"

"Sarevok Anchev has been declared a Grand Duke," he said angrily. "We're at the point of war. It might have already been declared. One of the Dukes was assassinated—Anchev tried to charm Anna, he's had his fingers in everything from the start. There wasn't anything else I could do."

Imoen still looked blank. She glanced at Anna helplessly but she could offer her no comfort from that reality.

"So you were what—just going to run away?" she said, her voice rising again. "Without me?"

"Not without you," Finn replied. "Why do you think we're here? We got your letter, we thought there was trouble. But Anna says that nothing's happening and it was just a hoax."

"It wasn't!" Imoen cried. "There's... But I can't... I don't believe all this."

She sank down onto one of the log chairs and tugged the kerchief off her hair. Anna drew a breath; Imoen's pretty auburn ringlets had been cut short, barely falling past her ears. Imoen noticed her look and ran a hand through her cropped hair but said nothing.

"Gods, Im—what the hells happened to your hair?" Finn muttered.

"Winthrop made me cut it, okay?" she said defensively. "He said it was too long."

"You're a girl, what else is it meant to be? Has the old pork pie finally lost his mind?" he remarked.

"Just shut up, will you?" Imoen barked back.

"Enough of this," Anna finally spoke. "We need to figure out what we're going to do. Is it safe for us to spend a night in the fortress?"

"It should be," Finn replied. "I don't know that the Fist would bother to come all the way out here for my benefit, and I can't see how anyone in the keep would know what happened. We need to get some supplies, anyway. But we can't stay, Imoen. If you want to come with us you can—but we're on the run now, and it's not going to be easy. Maybe it might be better if you did stay."

"You're not going to leave me again," the girl replied. "Not here, not now, not with all this—"

She looked almost like she might start to cry. Finn looked helpless but Anna went and put her hands on her shoulders.

"Imoen... Just say it. It doesn't matter now."

It mattered more than Anna could say, but she was determined to find the truth. Imoen only bit her lip though and that impish smile tried to make another appearance.

"No, I'm...going with you. We can make a run for it tomorrow. Or today even—we just need to get out before they close the drawbridge for the night."

"I think we'd better leave it for tomorrow," Finn replied. "But Anna, are you alright with this? I don't know why Imoen's done this, I don't want to hide you from anyone."

Her mouth twisted, and Anna thought she would have little difficulty pretending not to be his wife at that moment.

"It's fine," she replied quietly. "Maybe Imoen is right. The fewer questions now, the better."

She tugged off her ring and placed it into a pouch for safekeeping. Finn looked a bit ill watching her set it away but he didn't comment.

"I suppose we should go," Imoen said, rising to her feet. "I'll be needing to start supper soon. Afterwards I can sneak us some things from the pantry for the road. Hopefully Winthrop won't notice."

"So you're just going to run off again?" Finn remarked while gathering up his pack. "Maybe you ought to let them know this time, and properly say goodbye. The gods only know when you might see them again. Winthrop and Vera are as good as your parents and they deserve that, at least."

...

Imoen's jaw clenched but she didn't reply. They wandered out of the hut and into the woods, up the cliffs towards the fortress. Anna watched it grow larger as they drew near; it seemed far more imposing then than it had the night before. A flock of white sea birds and black crows drifted around the towers, their harsh cries doing battle in the air as they whirled on the sea winds. From below came the ever-present sound of the surf as it battered against the cliffs.

High, flat clouds had drifted over the coast during the afternoon and Anna looked out over the ocean to the point where sky and horizon met. There the sea turned from grey to deep blue, reflecting the heavy clouds above. The water looked calm but she happened to spot a ship sailing far from the shore, and even from that distance she could see it churning through the waves as it doggedly forced its way south. For one moment she thought of Edmund but his troubles quickly slipped from her mind.

The outer walls of the fortress were surrounded by a dry moat with banks of grass-covered earth adding to their height. A heavy drawbridge lay open over the gap and two guards wearing silver and steel stood watch at the entrance. One was a younger man but the other seemed as grizzled-grey as the chains on his mail shirt.

"Well, I'll be damned," he chuckled hoarsely. "Little Immie said she had a surprise for us, but I didn't quite believe her."

He shifted his pike from one hand to another and clasped Finn's arm. Finn clasped his in return and managed a smile.

"Ey up, Hull, you pickled bastard," he said, though his tone was warm. "Still got you working the wall?"

"Aye, though things have been a lot better since you've not been around. Young Havernan here doesn't take anywhere near so much of my wages as you did."

The younger guard looked annoyed at the old man's ribbing but he greeted Finn in turn.

"Well, you're not getting it back!" Finn laughed. "Though maybe I can sneak you out a drop of Winthrop's brandy for old time's sake."

"Oh, aye, there's the lad!" Hull said cheerily. "Our Imoen's not so helpful there, are ye?"

"We should probably go," Imoen said in reply, not sounding very pleased with the conversation.

"Alright," Finn agreed. "But I'll be sure to see you later."

"I've not been paid yet!" the old man called after them as they entered the fortress.

Finn waved a hand after him and laughed. "That's old Hull," he said to Anna. "Did I ever tell you about him? Top bloke, but he does like his ale. Absolute rubbish at the cards too—half the guards here look on him as a second wage. He always takes it in humour, though. I used to nip him out drinks from the inn cellar in sympathy."

He chuckled to himself but Anna frowned slightly. Heavy drinking and gambling weren't what she had in mind when she pictured the staid Watchers of Candlekeep, but from Finn's tales perhaps she should have known better.

Finn himself seemed more cheerful from the meeting though and he glanced around the keep with bright eyes. The high outer walls hid various buildings within the courtyard, all looking meek and humble next to the central tower that rose up from within its own protective walls. The iron gates were shut but Anna managed to catch a glimpse of the fine, if winter-faded gardens within.

She wondered who was sheltering within those walls—monks would mix with nobles and mages, those men and women of great learning and perhaps even greater wealth. The entrance fee to the library at Candlekeep was not mere gold, but a volume the keepers found worthy to add to their halls of knowledge. Only the wisest of scholars could hope to come across such a thing and recognise its value. Steep as the price was Anna couldn't help but think the monks of Oghma had chosen their fees wisely, even if she entertained little hope of ever setting foot in the library herself.

Still the novelty of being inside Candlekeep at all was enough to distract her momentarily from her troubles. In some ways it seemed ordinary as anywhere; there were stables and long wooden buildings that looked like barracks and storehouses. On the other side of the keep stood a pillared temple, carved out of that same white stone as the tower.

A few people could be seen going about their business; most wore the robes of a monk but there were guards and other commoners as well. The entire place had a hushed atmosphere and their footsteps seemed muted. Within the high walls even the sound of the sea was muffled and the ringing of a temple bell sounded loud as a clap of thunder in the stillness.

Imoen led them up to a whitewashed timber-framed building. Except for the temple it was the largest Anna could see and its gabled windows glinted with diamond-shaped panes. Instead of leading them in through the front door though she slipped around back and stepped into a spacious kitchen.

...

"They're here now," Imoen said to a woman who was working out pastry on a table.

Anna had thought Maya was of an ample size but that woman could almost have doubled her. Her wide woollen bodice strained at the strings to hold in her frame, the yards of cloth still hardly enough for the task. Her face told of advanced middle age but the knot of hair on her head was still solidly black. She glanced up momentarily and her hands never stopped in their work.

"So they are," she replied. "Make sure they keep to themselves, we don't want to disturb the guests."

Finn paused for a moment and tried to smile at the woman.

"How have you been, Vera?" he asked. "It's been awhile, aye?"

"Well as can be expected with my gout. I'll have these crusts ready for you to fill in a moment, Imoen, so don't be long."

Anna could feel the awkwardness in the room and it puzzled her. Finn stood looking at the woman with a rather surprised expression on his face, but Imoen led them on.

"This way," she said.

They went up a narrow hall to an even narrower set of stairs which Anna assumed was a servants' passage. When they emerged onto the upper floor Anna felt herself in an entirely different world from the inn at the village. The walls were covered in rich panelling and a fine woven carpet travelled the entire length of the hall, lush with patterned vines and flowers. On the off side from the chambers a series of bay windows let in the grey daylight, stunted though it was from the massive wall outside. As they passed by a door a well-dressed servant made an appearance.

"There you are," the man said to Imoen. "I have complained to the landlord but he told me the wench would deal with the matter. The fire in Lord Malvern's chamber has been smoking all afternoon and it is simply unbearable. I had to pack away his lordship's clothes for fear they might be ruined! I expect this to be dealt with immediately."

"Of course, so sorry," Imoen muttered, brushing past the man. "I must see to these guests first."

"I should say," the servant replied, looking over Finn and Anna with a light sniff. "But this must be dealt with before Lord Malvern returns to dress for dinner, or you will need the aid of your gods! This is not the level of service one expects at Candlekeep."

They passed on and the irate servant vanished back into the chamber.

"Kick him in the balls," Finn muttered. "If you can find them, that is."

Imoen just shook her head and unlocked a chamber door. The room wasn't overly large but it was finely decorated with a blue and gold counterpane on the bed and chairs covered in matching blue velvet. A fire already crackled pleasantly underneath the carved wooden mantle.

"I thought you could have this one, Anna," Imoen said. "Finn's is just next door. We're not too busy this time of year and we've room to spare."

Anna set down her pack while Imoen showed Finn to his room. The reality of sleeping in separate chambers suddenly dawned on her, and she felt it not so much from the physical separation. That woman at the inn flashed back into her mind and Finn's clumsy attempts to hide any relationship pricked at her like a hot brand. Was there not enough trouble in her life now, Anna thought?

There was little for her to unpack and she stood in the centre of the room regarding the fire absently. She jumped a little at the sound of a voice behind the door.

"Knock, knock," Finn said. "It's been awhile since I've needed to knock on your door, aye?"

Anna glanced up at him and she found it hard not to respond to the impish look on his face. But then that wall formed again and she looked back towards the fire.

"Imoen said we can have supper in the kitchen after the other guests are fed," he continued. "I can't wait, they really know how to put on a spread here. Even the leftovers will be good."

"Finn, please tell me the truth," Anna sighed.

There was nothing else for her to say to him, no other subject for conversation. The idle talk about supper seemed like a pained mockery to her. Finn looked miserable and he avoided her stare, but he still spoke.

"It could be mine, aye."

Anna drew in a long breath and slowly let it out again. Finn caressed her shoulders but she didn't open her eyes.

"Listen...I didn't know. Believe me. Suzy never said ought of a child, and she's not the sort to keep her mouth closed on anything. But...does it matter now? I married you, not her."

Anna suddenly turned to him. _"Matter? _It's your child! You don't think that matters?"

"I didn't mean it that way," Finn shot back. "Just...well, what the hells do you want me to do about it? Assuming it is mine. Should I leave you and take up with her? Is that what you want?"

"Of course not," she groaned. "But you were lovers then. You must have been lovers when you left home—why did you never mention her? Were you going to marry her?"

Finn's expression darkened. "Not a chance on it. Why, did she say we were meant to get married?"

"She said you'd run off and left her with the baby," Anna said. "The implication was there."

He snorted. "You mean I got out from under her clutches. Look—Suzy and me had different plans. She used to talk marriage sometimes. I told her though, I said I didn't have any plans to stick around—"

"So you were just using her, then. Just another fling," she interrupted.

"Feck's sake, you never will cease," he said angrily. "I was hardly leading her on. If she had different ideas it wasn't my fault."

"And how long were you with her?" Anna demanded.

"What?"

"It's a simple question," she said coolly.

Finn drew a breath. "I don't know. We were friendly for a few years. We're both about the same age, got curious about the same time. It wasn't ever serious, though."

"It sound like she had a different take on that, then," Anna replied.

"Why are you taking her side?" he exclaimed. "I told you, I'm not—you seem so damned determined to make your husband out to be some kind of arsehole. Why?"

Anna's face turned bright red and she looked away from him. Why, indeed? She was angry at his carelessness, angry that he'd tried to cover it up, but even so. Deep within though she knew the answer.

"Because she's having your child, and I'm not," Anna choked. "I should be the one. We should have that life, us together. But we don't."

"We could have a baby," Finn said quietly. "You know I wanted to."

He came to her and caressed her hair but she shook him off.

"And how?" she flashed out. "Where are we, Finn? First you joined the Flaming Fist, then we had to run from Beregost, then all this...war, fighting...and now what? We're outlaws, criminals on the run, in case you'd forgotten. Where could a child fit into this?"

"Well...it's not forever, is it? We'll find someplace to settle down—"

"Is that what you really think?" she interrupted. "Tell me. Do you ever think that day will come?"

She looked at him and saw an echo of pain on his face.

"I want it to," he said. "I want it more than anything."

"We don't always get the things we want," she replied.

Her mouth sounded rough and dry. Finn reached over and took her hand, and when she glanced at him his eyes were red.

"I love you though," he said slowly. "You're the only thing in my world now, Anna...and I swear to you I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. Anywhere you want to go, we'll go. Anything you want me to do, I'll do it. Say the word. Just don't say..."

He broke off and squeezed her hand tighter. Anna grasped his hand in return and drew a shaking breath.

"You keep saying that. You're always saying that. But I'm still waiting for it to mean something."

Finn looked almost as if she'd struck him. That ill look spread further and he slowly nodded his head.

"Well. I'd imagine you want to get washed up. I'll see you in a bit, alright?"

Anna could only nod in reply. Finn departed the room in silence and she freely gave way to the tears that were hanging in her eyes.

...

Washing up seemed a rather futile exercise but Anna did her best. She stared grimly at the woman reflected in the glass; she was tired and thin, her healthy country complexion replaced at some point by a washed-out pallor. Not for the first time Anna felt as if she didn't recognise that woman, that she was looking into the face of a stranger.

When had they all degenerated into their shadows? Finn, Imoen, Jaheira, Xan—even Ajantis before he gave his life—all her friends seemed to turn into ghosts. They haunted their old lives with pale fingers grasping at that which had been lost. Anna clenched her fingers hard on the fine walnut of the washing stand until her fingertips hurt. They were still real—at least, she thought so.

She wandered away downstairs. In spite of everything she felt curious to see the place that housed Finn and Imoen's childhoods. She tried to imagine Finn and Imoen as children there and a little smile flickered over her face. A pair of troublemakers, she had little doubt. She found herself looking around as if the spirits of two children might run through at any moment.

Anna caught a glance at Imoen through the dining room door. The girl looked ghostly enough in the fading afternoon light but there was little joy of youth to be seen in her features. She laid down a fine place setting on a long wooden table, each knife and fork exactly where it should be. The kerchief was back on her shorn head and her eyes kept to her task.

"Where's Finn?" Anna asked, stepping into the room.

Imoen started an dropped a heavy silver fork with a clatter onto one of the plates. She scooped it up with a soft curse and glanced briefly at Anna.

"I think he said he was going to the temple," she said.

She continued her task with nervous hands and Anna bit her lip.

"Imoen, what's wrong?" she said quietly.

"What? Oh, nothing," the girl replied. She tried to sound cheerful but Anna wasn't convinced.

"Listen—if it's about that maid," Anna began. "Finn and I have already had a talk."

Imoen gave her a stricken look but looked away again.

"I'd rather not talk about it," she said.

"Alright," Anna said slowly.

She left Imoen to her duties and quietly entered the kitchen. The massive woman was still there, lightly brushing sauce onto a roasting goose like an artist dabbing paint onto canvas. Anna might as well have been a spirit herself for all the woman paid her heed. She continued her task and Anna said nothing in return.

Anna started though to see a large, bald head emerge from the floor. A middle-aged man of only slightly less bulk emerged from the cellar carrying two bottles of brandy in his large hands. He looked at Anna and she thought she saw an almost hostile expression hidden somewhere in his puffy blue eyes.

"Ey up. I hope you're not looking for handouts. After supper the staff eats, and not before," he said.

"I'm not, I'm sorry," Anna stammered. "Are you Winthrop?"

Imoen had told her enough tales to leave little doubt, but she felt the need to say something social. The large man merely nodded.

"Aye, and this is my inn. We're letting ye stay out of decency, but don't expect much more. As far as we're concerned Imoen and Finn lost the rights to call this place home when they took off."

"Imoen nearly broke my old heart when she ran away," the woman rejoined. Her voice had a dreamy quality though and she didn't take her eyes from the goose.

"I suppose they had their reasons," Anna said.

For one moment she wondered what the couple might actually know about Finn and Imoen's disappearance. Did they know the reasons Gorion took his ward from the keep? Finn himself didn't even know the full truth. And Imoen hadn't even told them Finn was married, by the sound of things she hadn't been liberal with any details. Perhaps they'd been left in the dark on the matter—it would explain their cool demeanour if they'd thought the two had simply decided to go out for an adventure.

"Everybody's got reasons for everything," Winthrop continued. "But if you're not going to lend a hand with supper then you might find somewhere else to be. No need for strangers underfoot just now."

Anna turned red and quickly stepped out into the yard. She felt little inclined to lend a hand if it meant enduring more hostility. The air was grey and cold yet strangely still inside the walls. Anna rubbed her shoulders and set off in the direction of the temple.

...

The keep seemed still as the air and the few denizens she noted before were nowhere to be seen. Curls of smoke drifting up out of the chimneys was the only hint that the place was habited at all. The stoic walls gave Anna a strange feeling and her feet moved quickly across the cobbled way.

The temple featured a grand edifice of white marble pillars that seemed oddly out of place amongst the humble wood and stone buildings that flanked it. The signs and sayings of Oghma were engraved above the entrance in a fine calligraphy but she hardly noticed them as she climbed the steps and pushed open the heavy door.

Typical of temples dedicated to the Binder the walls were covered in racks of scrolls and numerous bookcases. A series of desk-like pews surrounded a central dais making it look more like a lecture theatre than a temple. A few tapestries outlining the virtues of learning were the only superfluous decorations that could be seen in the staid building.

Anna could see no occupants, either, and she wondered if Finn was indeed there. But the sound of voices drifted over from the back and she followed them.

"I am sorry, Finnigan, but it is just impossible right now," A man's quiet voice said.

"But I'd go myself, I could lead you to the spot in the dark!" Finn exclaimed in return.

"I am sorry, my son. I do wish I could do more, but it is not my choice."

In the lamplight Anna could see Finn talking with a thin monk. A finely-trimmed beard covered his face but his head was nearly bare. Both men glanced up when Anna came into view.

"Hey, love," Finn sighed raggedly.

"And who is this lady?" the monk asked. A gentle smile covered his face and Anna smiled back.

"This is Anna. She's my wife," Finn announced.

Finn's voice had the tone of revelation but if the monk was surprised he didn't let it show.

"Indeed? How very wonderful. I'm certain Gorion would be pleased to see that Finnigan has chosen such a lovely woman for his bride."

Anna flushed red again and she let the monk clasp her hands warmly. Finn ran a hand through his hair and sighed again.

"This is Tethtoril. He's sort of second-in-command around these parts."

"You might say so," the monk chuckled. "Although Ulraunt has little tendency for delegation which leaves my days quite free."

Anna smiled again at the man and he adjusted the spectacles on his nose.

"It has been good speaking with you, but I do have duties to see to before evening prayers. Might we expect you at the service?" he asked.

"Maybe," Finn replied.

The monk chuckled again. "Dear Finnigan, you do not change. Fortunately I know this young man has more faith in his heart than he shows in the temple. Just as it should be. Regardless, I hope we can speak soon?"

"Sure," Finn answered. Tethtoril bowed to them both and his steps retreated out of the temple.

"What was that about?" Anna asked.

Finn let out a frustrated noise. "I only tried to convince him to go and find Gorion's body. We buried him best as we could, but he's never even had a proper funeral. If it weren't for the Harpers they'd never even have known he was dead."

"But why wouldn't he go?"

"He's said that Ulraunt isn't letting anyone venture farther than the village on account of the troubles. It's bollocks. Not even for Gorion? The place isn't more than ten miles from here, it wouldn't even take a day."

Anna tried to give him a sympathetic look. His mouth smiled at her in return but his eyes didn't.

"I shouldn't be much surprised," Finn continued. "Ulraunt's always been a bastard, but I'd hoped Tethtoril might do more to convince him. He was always a good bloke, almost like a second father to me. But it doesn't sound like he's even going to try."

"Well, try not to let it bother you," Anna tried to comfort him. "I'm sure they've said prayers for Gorion. He'll be at peace wherever he's buried."

"Aye, and I've said enough of my own. But it's still no excuse," he said.

Finn glanced over at the lectern that stood on the dais. Two large candles flanked it on either side, causing the gold print on the book which rested there to glow in the light.

"What is it?" Anna asked.

"Nothing. Just thinking of how many hours I spent shackled in this place. Gorion always used to sit just there, and I sat next to him," Finn said, gesturing to a desk near the centre. "I can almost see him there now."

A breath caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. For one moment Anna could see the old man too, his grey features defined even though she'd never met Finn's father. She took his hand and Finn cleared his throat.

"More ghosts," Anna said quietly.

"What?" he replied, sounding startled.

"Nothing," she sighed. "Do you want to show me around before it gets dark?"

"Not much to see, but if you want to," he shrugged.

They left the temple behind and ventured into the deserted courtyard. A series of torches now fluttered along the walls, seemingly sprung into life on their own. It added to the almost eerie feel of the place and Anna shivered.

"You warm enough? We could always go back to the inn," Finn offered.

"No, I'm fine," Anna said. "Where is everyone?"

There had to be people within that place. Someone lit the torches, someone lit the fires that sent smoke drifting into the air above the buildings. But at that moment not even a guard was to be seen.

"Hidden away. It's always dead here of an evening," he said flatly.

Anna could understand why he preferred to spend his evenings in the village. But that brought up images she'd rather not see and a frown spread over her face.

"We're...alright, aren't we?" Finn asked hesitantly.

The statement startled Anna as much as her remark about ghosts had seemed to startle him. She gazed at one of the ownerless torches without really seeing it.

"I don't know. I hope so," she said.

..

She couldn't offer any more and Finn didn't ask. Anna took his arm and he pointed out the landmarks, such as they were. A storage warehouse where he spent more time as a youth chasing rats than the local feline population, the exercise yard where he took his first clumsy swings with a sword, the bunkhouse where the guards decided to break in their newest recruit by plying him with whiskey all night and then depositing him outside the library entrance without his trousers, just in time for the monks to emerge for morning prayers.

"You should have seen the look on Gorion's face," Finn said.

He tried to laugh but Anna sensed there was more pain than humour in the memory.

"It's a pity we can't go inside the library," she said instead.

"Aye. That one there was my window—on the northwest turret, third floor up."

He gestured but it was too dark for Anna to see what he did. A few lights decorated the tower but it seemed sombre and still against the sky.

"A storm is coming," Finn said quietly. "I can tell without even looking at Tethtoril's weather glass."

Anna could feel the change in the air too, though she'd tried to ignore it. Suddenly she stood still.

"You need to talk with her," she said.

"I will," Finn replied.

She said nothing else and shut her eyes as he caressed her hair. They stood silent in the empty courtyard, and Anna slowly became aware of a cold breeze. The sky was entirely dark above them and she searched in vain for any trace of the moon.

"I'm cold. Let's get back to the inn," she said.

She let Finn wrap his arm around her shoulder and they found their way back into the spacious kitchen. It was almost painfully hot after being in the cold air and Anna's cheeks burned from the contrast. They found Imoen, Winthrop and his wife in the midst of serving chaos.

"There you are," Imoen said while plating up several game hens onto a large platter. "I set you up a bath, Anna, I thought you might like one."

Vera shooed the girl out the door towards the dining room before Anna could reply.

"Need any help?" Finn asked Winthrop.

"Ye could fetch up another couple bottles of that Turmish white," the landlord replied. "One of them ladies out there won't drink anything else, and she's already finished off one bottle. Not even on the second course yet," he grumbled.

Winthrop collected a pot of sauce from his wife, took up a tray of cabbage rolls in his spare hand and followed Imoen through the door. Finn looked at Anna and gave her a smile.

"Go on and have a bath. I'll manage here, though the gods help me if I drop anything!"

Anna tried to smile in return. She went down the servants' passage, pausing just long enough to catch a glimpse of a dozen nobles gathered around the large table. The platters of food and sterling goblets glistened enticingly in the candlelight while the well-dressed men and women chatted and laughed. In the darkness behind the chairs she could see other shapes moving, no doubt the nobles' own servants fulfilling their duties. She watched Imoen serving out the hens, entirely invisible for all the diners reacted to her presence. Anna sighed and went to find her bath.

The water had turned cool but that didn't stop her from indulging—it might well be the last bath Anna had the chance to enjoy for the gods knew how long. Too soon though she felt the chill of the water even in front of the fire and reluctantly dressed again. Anna went downstairs to see the nobles still engorged in their feast. Their laughter had increased with their intake of wine and they traded drunken attempts at witty remarks across the table.

...

Anna found Finn in a drawing room. The walls were stacked high with books, a distinguishing feature of that place it seemed. The library was empty except for him yet the sounds of the nobles' laughter bubbled over from the dining room. Finn sat hunched over a desk, intent on some tome in front of him. His brow knotted but he glanced up when Anna entered the room.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"What are you reading?" she managed in reply.

Anna glided up to his desk and Finn leaned back, revealing a book of maps.

"Just thinking about where to go. When we get out of here, I mean. North isn't the best idea and south would be a suicide run right now. We'd have to get back to the Gate to take a ship, and with all the troubles the ports will be on alert. I wouldn't risk it myself."

"So that leaves east, then," Anna concluded.

"Aye. I thought we might take a chance picking up the Uldoon Trail heading to Berdusk. I know for a fact the Fist aren't patrolling it anymore. We'd be safe enough," he said.

"But the trailhead starts in Nashkel," she remarked. "Surely you're not thinking of heading down there."

"No chance," Finn said. "But I reckon we could skirt Sharp Teeth and pick it up on the other side of the forest. Not ideal really but we've spent enough time in the woods to manage."

Anna pursed her lips. Time in the woods, yes, but not during winter, and not without the aid of several well-armed friends. No doubt bandits were still sheltering there along with the usual array of unpleasant creatures. Thinking on it she decided she'd rather take her chances with the twin armies.

"Berdusk wouldn't be a bad place to sit out the winter," he continued. "It's far enough away that no one would think to be looking for me. It'd be safe there, I reckon."

He seemed to be trying to convince himself rather than her. Anna remembered the town vaguely from her long-ago journey from the Dales; a frontier city, a hub of traders and travellers, not the sort where one pays a good deal of attention to who passes through. Perhaps he was right but she wondered if their safety could be assured anywhere.

"What do you think?" he asked.

_"Hm?" _Anna said, startled out of her thoughts. Finn was looking up at her.

"It's as good a plan as any," she replied.

"And that's the problem," he sighed in return.

"I don't suppose we could make a pass through Beregost, could we?"

It wasn't really a question; she knew the answer. Finn shook his head.

"The Fist are camped out there...but if you really wanted to get home..."

"No. Never mind," she said.

Her home was lost to her now just as surely as if the Amnish army had burned it to the ground. That fact hadn't really sunk in yet, but it would soon enough. She chose a book at random from the shelves and sat idly regarding it until Imoen finally called them into the kitchen.

...

"Eat up!" the girl said cheerfully. "Whatever doesn't get eaten just goes to the pigs, anyway. Or the guards. Not much difference there."

"Oi, you," Finn replied, giving his sister a light cuff on the head. Imoen responded with an audible _oink _and Anna found herself smiling.

"I don't suppose your quality of patron has much use for leftovers," she said.

"No, and they think it's a virtue to leave as much food behind as they can," Imoen sighed. "But we daren't serve any less. Kind of makes for depressing work, really."

Winthrop and Vera had retreated to put their feet up, leaving Imoen to the task of cleaning the large kitchen. Platters of half-eaten dishes lined the large table and the three of them took turns sampling whatever caught their fancy. Anna nibbled her way through a dish of chicken and rice cooked in fragrant almond milk while Finn worked on reducing a game hen to its bones. Imoen swapped between a meat pie and a custard tart while carefully wrapping up whatever would keep.

"This venison will be good for a couple days," she said quietly. "I can stow it outside, Puffguts will never find it."

"Are we going tomorrow, then?" Anna said.

"Not much point in waiting," Finn replied. "Nothing worth hanging around here for."

He stiffened slightly as he spoke, perhaps aware of Anna's look. Her lips tightened but she continued eating.

"I'll take some oats and rice and dried noodles from the pantry," Imoen continued thoughtfully. "There's potted meat, too, and I think I'll sneak us a cheese. And a bottle of brandy. Not Winthrop's good stuff, but the kind we use for cooking—"

"Easy, Im, we're not pack mules," Finn interrupted. "Just remember we've got to carry everything ourselves."

"But we'll freeze to death out there if we don't have food!" she objected.

"Bring your rabbit fur cape, you'll be fine," he replied.

"She has a point," Anna said. "It's not like we'll be able to stop in for supplies just anywhere. Not that Sharp Teeth has many merchants to begin with."

"What—are we going through the woods?" Imoen said.

"No choice on that, pet."

Imoen frowned but she said nothing. Anna could see a different kind of fear in her eyes, one she could understand. In her saner moments their escape seemed entirely mad, something from a bad dream. Try though she might it had nothing to do with reality.

"So, how was life getting on in the Gate?" Imoen said, reaching for a change of subject. "I mean, before..."

"Well, let's see," Finn said flatly. "Anna was nearly poisoned to death, we killed Rieltar Anchev and got charged with his murder, Xan got knocked on the head and went mad, and my superior officer slit Ajantis' throat. Did I miss anything?"

_"Finn!" _Anna exclaimed.

She stared at him in shock but Imoen's face looked all the worse.

"What do you mean...Ajantis? He's not..."

"Dead, aye," Finn said quietly. "Sorry, flower."

He seemed to regret his flippant comments and sounded apologetic. Imoen though looked like she might be sick.

"He's dead?" she said weakly. "Who killed him? When..."

"Dosan was crooked," Finn explained. "He had us arrested and was going to kill us all. We managed to escape though...except him. You might say we've generally had a shite time of things of late."

Anna groaned again at Finn's understatement. She reached a hand out to Imoen but the girl stepped back, and promptly fled the room.

"You couldn't have said things more gently?" Anna said angrily.

"Sorry, I really didn't think," Finn said.

"That seems to be a recurring theme with you," she shot back.

Anna hurried after the girl without giving him a chance to reply. Imoen was nowhere in sight however and she had no idea where her chamber might be. She let out a loud sigh but started feeling a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. I am sorry, you know," Finn said.

"I don't think I'm the one you should be apologising to," Anna replied.

"I wasn't talking about Imoen."

There was a pained kind of look in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. Something in those eyes seemed strange, a quality that she struggled to comprehend. A deep tiredness was all she could think of. Still his look softened her and Anna took his hand.

"Come to me tonight," she said quietly.

A slight smile flickered onto his face.

"I will," Finn replied.

Anna let him kiss her; it was deep but fleeting and a part of her clung to it almost in desperation. Finn caressed her cheeks and smiled again.

"Hull would never forgive me if I didn't go take some of his gold. Will you be alright for awhile?"

"Yes. Just don't end up on the library steps again," she replied.

She tweaked his nose like she used to and they both laughed quietly.

"No worries, I won't be too late. Tell Imoen I'm sorry too, won't you? I can't seem to keep my big gob shut anymore."

"I'll do my best," Anna laughed.

...

Finn kissed her again and departed out the front door. Anna sighed and slowly turned back to the kitchen—busy hands might keep her from her thoughts. She found a spare apron and went about washing and putting away as best she could in the unfamiliar place. Movement at the door caught her eye and she glanced up to see Imoen, her face red and puffy from crying.

"He's really dead, then?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry," Anna replied.

She went to the girl and drew her tight into a hug. Imoen wrapped her arms around her in turn and choked into Anna's apron.

"Don't know why I'm so upset. It's not like we were lovers or anything. It's just...surprising, you know."

"He was a good man, and a good friend," Anna replied. "You have every right in the world to be upset. It...was hard on me, too."

Emotions over Ajantis' death suddenly came back to her. The plain urn in the crypt, his final words to Dosan...the sight of his body laying covered in blood on that stone floor. Anna choked too, glad that Imoen was at least spared that sight.

"But I guess we'll never see any of them again," Imoen remarked.

She drew herself out of Anna's embrace and wiped her eyes. Anna took her offered handkerchief with a pained smile and did the same.

"I suppose not. It's all just...going away, isn't it?"

"You don't mind me coming with you, do you?" Imoen suddenly asked.

"Why would you say that?"

"Just—I don't want to be the fifth wheel on the cart. I felt that way before, when we were living together. I know you didn't want me there. Finn's my brother, but he...well, he's moved on, hasn't he?"

Anna stared at the girl in surprise. She had been frustrated by Imoen's presence at times but she'd hoped she'd never let it show. But another feeling washed over her and she pulled the girl close again.

"Imoen—you're family. We've already lost so much, I don't want to lose that too. Of course I want you with us. Finn does too. We'll just...try and make things work somehow."

"Thanks," Imoen snuffled. "I thought the worst you know, when you left me here. I didn't think you'd ever come for me again. I didn't know everything that was happening in Baldur's Gate... I guess I was just being stupid again."

"It's not stupid," Anna soothed. "Is that why you wrote that letter?"

"Well, a bit," she hesitated. "It's been no better here. You can see how Winthrop and Vera have been treating me. They were always crusty as day-old pudding but I knew they loved me. Now...it's like they're different people. Everyone seems different now. But I guess that's what happens when you've been away, huh?"

"I suppose so," Anna replied. "Don't let it worry you too much. If they loved you before then they love you now, even if they don't show it."

Imoen smiled. "I guess you're right. But I'll finish up in here if you want. Winthrop likes everything a certain way, and if it's not just so he harrumphs like a grumpy milk cow."

Anna laughed a little and gave the girl another squeeze. She relinquished her apron and made her way back up to her chamber.

...

She stripped down to her shift but stayed awake waiting for Finn to return. Sealed in that chamber she had no idea of the time and the moments drifted together like her breathing. She let down her braids and drew aside the heavy curtains to peek at the courtyard below. The torches still burned in the dark night throwing their strange light over the empty pathways.

The air was chilly even with the fire and Anna retreated to bed. At long last she heard a faint knock and Finn slipped inside like an illicit lover.

"You still awake?" he said into the darkness.

"Yes," Anna replied.

She sat up in bed and Finn came to her. He didn't hesitate to take her in his arms and she recoiled slightly at the taste of alcohol on his lips, but only just. Her desire for him hadn't faltered for waiting.

_"Love...my love,"_ he said.

She shuddered at the hot whisper in her ear and began tugging at his clothes, helping him to underdress. Finn was hers then, no woman or child shared him. He was only hers and they were safe, sealed in that chamber and cocooned in feathers and warmth. No one hunted them there. Anna blocked out all those things with a desperate kiss and they fell away entirely as they laid on that bed. She knew only his flesh, and he knew hers in return. There was safety in that darkness, for once safety.

When they were spent she rested in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body underneath hers. The beating of his heart, the sensation of sweat on his skin felt alive to her. Finn slid his hand down her back and caressed her rear, pulling her closer into him.

"Maybe we should stay here, after all," he said softly.

"If tonight never ends," she murmured in reply.

Finn squeezed her again but said nothing more. Anna laid a soft kiss on his chest and felt sleep gently falling over her.

...

A noise woke her. She lay still in the darkness trying to work out what it might be. A swishing noise, a sound like pellets striking the glass. Finn laid next to her, his breathing rhythmic and deep. Reluctantly Anna drew herself from bed and went to the window.

The torches still burned valiantly but now they were surrounded by a whirling white fog. A blast struck the panes and covered it in icy snowflakes. The storm had arrived. Anna stood naked at the window for another moment, watching as the courtyard slowly disappeared under the drifting snow. There would be no travel tomorrow, after all.

Another noise caught her ears and Anna turned back to the bed. Finn groaned and said something in his sleep. She thought little of it though, only seeking a return to the warmth. Anna crawled back in next to him and suddenly Finn spoke.

"You're going to die," he said.

The words were plain as the ice outside and just as cold. Anna grasped the coverlet hard against her chest.

"What?" she stammered.

"You are going to die."

Anna let out a cry as Finn suddenly rose up in bed. She stumbled back out away from him but he rose up and followed her.

"Finn—what are you doing?" she exclaimed.

He didn't answer. She retreated back near the fireplace where the flames burned low, throwing only the faintest light into the chamber. Finn stood there naked as she, staring at her with a black expression. Even in the darkness those eyes were so cold they burned.

"Finn—stop," Anna said.

Her voice shook with fear—some mad instinct told her that man who faced her wasn't her husband. She let out a horrified cry as he lunged for her like a cat onto a mouse, grabbing her by the wrists that she held up in a pathetic attempt at defence. Her arm twisted and she let out another noise as he threw her hard onto the floor. The wool of the rug burned her skin and she struggled to pull her loose hair from her eyes.

_"Finn," _she sobbed, but Anna felt too frightened to say anything else. Even the thought of casting a spell seemed too far from her mind and her body shuddered as if she'd been thrown into the storm outside. All she felt, all she knew was a cold, horrible fear.

As in a dream she felt him pounce once more. She felt Finn's hands find her neck. Helplessly Anna stared up into those deadly cold eyes, weak as the prey under a predator's grasp. She felt his grip tighten but even as he did something seemed to break. His eyes softened and he gazed upon her with wonder for a moment, but then his eyes seemed to clear entirely and a look of sheer horror passed over his face.

_"Anna?"_

Finn's voice was hesitant as if he wasn't sure who it was that cowered at his feet. He released her neck and Anna tried to draw breath.

"Finn...you..."

A violent tremor shook through her body and she wailed into the darkness. Finn stumbled backwards, upsetting a small table and sending a vase crashing unheeded onto the floor.

"Anna!" he said again. "You... It wasn't you. You were someone else. Oh, gods, what—"

He collapsed down onto the floor himself, breathing heavily as if he'd run a dozen miles.

"I dreamed it. It was a dream," he said to himself. "You weren't there. It was a dream!"

Finn made an awful cry and Anna looked over at him. He went down on all fours, his body shaking and jerking like a man who was about to be sick. Anna stared, wondering, her mind still too foggy for thoughts. That horrible fear was gone but the effect still sent shivers through her. Eventually Finn collapsed entirely sending every muscle in his body shaking in a fit.

_"It wasn't...you," _he gasped, and slowly Anna realised he was crying. Somehow she crawled over that vast distance of floor, her long hair spilling out around her onto the carpet as she moved. She grasped Finn in her arms and shuddered at the feel of the icy sweat on his skin. He sobbed again and reached for her, tangling himself in her hair as it draped over him. Anna could only cling to him in return, watching in silence as his strong body racked with painful sobs.


	102. Old Bones

"_I say! What in Tyr's name is happening in there?"_

Anna and Finn both ignored the indignant pounding on the door. Anna could barely register that anyone was there at all—her body was still trembling from that cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Finn seemed to collect himself enough to let out a curse that sent the knocker away with a remark about the quality of the inn's patrons. He managed to pull himself into a sitting position and took Anna in his arms.

"Are you all right?" he choked.

She didn't really know how to answer. Her knees and palms burned from where he'd thrown her to the floor but otherwise she was fine, physically at least. Emotionally she felt as if the entire inn had collapsed around her.

"I...don't know," she stammered.

Finn held her close and kept whispering her name. His arms were still tangled in her hair and she felt it constricting around her body with his embrace. Anna gasped hard, trying vainly to free the stray wisps from her mouth.

"What...what was that?" she finally managed to say.

"A dream," Finn replied. "One of my dreams. You were someone else...it wasn't you."

He kept repeating that but made no mention of who he'd seen, and Anna didn't have the courage to ask. They'd both thought his dreams were a thing of the past—they'd ceased long before they were married and Finn's nights were peaceful as could be expected. Anna had tried to ignore his strange visions and until then she'd largely succeeded. But this was the first time his dreams had taken shape, and with another shudder she realised it had almost cost her life.

"But _why _did you...what..."

"I don't know," he choked back.

He held her in silence. Only their ragged breathing and the faint pop of the embers on the hearth could be heard over the swirling snow that struck against the windowpanes. The room was as still as when they laid together but somehow it had irrevocably changed. Another shiver ran through Anna's body and she realised she was freezing cold.

"Let's go back to bed," she whispered.

Finn nodded and made a move to rise, but then stopped.

"No... No, I can't. I'm not going to risk it. You sleep here, and bolt the door."

"It will be alright, surely," she began.

"No, I can't," he repeated.

Finn helped her to stand, then stumbled around like a drunken man while trying to find his clothes. Anna stood on the rug shivering as she watched him dress.

"Finn..."

"Just bolt the door," he said hoarsely.

He kissed her briefly on the way out, seemingly hesitant even of that. Anna made no move towards the door, still standing bare on the rug. Her body shook with cold but she couldn't even make a move to dress. She heard Finn enter the chamber next door, but after a moment she heard his boots in the hall again. Anna sighed in thanks that he was coming back but the boots passed by in the hall. Finn was gone, and she was entirely alone.

She thought to follow him but she couldn't, that strange paralysis still gripped at her. Everything seemed sick and surreal as if she were caught in a dream herself. The rug released its hold on her feet and she managed to go to the window. Anna looked out at the whirling white and noticed a dark shape moving away in the storm. She stood watching long after Finn had disappeared into the night, clutching her bare shoulders as cold tears ran down her cheeks.

...

That night Anna lay alone in the damp sheets, clinging to her pillow and wondering in vain why everything had fallen apart. That safe, loving bliss she'd felt was gone. Finn was gone, and once again she felt his absence in the deepest part of her.

She opened her eyes to grey daylight. Anna didn't recall falling asleep and the change startled her. Last night's troubles seemed too surreal to be true, but her chafed red palms and knees spoke otherwise. Quickly she rose from bed and dressed in the cold air.

Anna was just tightening the strings on her stays when a knock sounded on the door. Imoen stood in the hall holding a tray with sweet buns and two bowls of breakfast porridge.

"Morning!" she said, cheerfully but quietly. "The other guests aren't up yet so I thought I'd bring up a bite to eat before I got busy. Have you seen the snow outside? We've had quite the blast but I'd still be up for leaving today, if you are that is. Where's Finn? He's not in his room—no surprise there, really."

The girl hardly waited for an answer and Anna shook her head distractedly.

"I don't know. I don't know where he is."

"Oh. Is everything alright?" Imoen asked.

Her face took on a worried expression but Anna shook her head again.

"It's fine. I can take the tray, thank you."

Almost mechanically she took the tray out of the girl's hands, too late remembering to hide her bruised palms. Imoen seemed to notice them but whatever thought crossed her mind she kept to herself. She smiled at Anna again and made a hasty retreat down the hall.

The porridge was spiced and steamy and the buns glistened with honey and currants but Anna had no interest in food. When she was certain that Imoen had gone she threw her old cloak around her shoulders and crept out the front door of the inn, avoiding the sounds of activity in the kitchen.

The keep outside bore a different feel from the storm. Hard snow had drifted around the buildings, covering the cobblestones and dead grass in a cloak of white that crunched under her feet. The air snapped with cold but the grey sky above was calm for now. The clouds promised more snow however and Anna drew up her hood. She didn't know for certain where Finn was, but she ventured a guess.

The Temple of Oghma was quiet as it had been the night before but the hint of incense in the air told that the monks had already had their dawn service. Only one desk was occupied, and Anna drifted slowly towards the man who sat hunched there. Finn held his head in his hands and for one moment Anna thought he was asleep. He looked up with a start though and Anna felt a shock seeing the shadows under his eyes.

"Hey," he said.

Anna smiled a little but she didn't reply, instead reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. He jerked at the touch though and moved his hand away.

"Did you sleep at all?" she rasped, her voice catching a bit in her throat.

"Didn't really dare to," Finn replied.

Anna didn't say anything. Finn avoided her gaze, staring blankly at the dais instead.

"Are you all right?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm fine," she said quietly.

"Wish I was," Finn said in return.

"It wasn't your fault—" Anna found herself saying, but he interrupted her.

"Wasn't it? Then whose was it?" he said sharply.

"It was a dream," she replied.

The words had a hint of helplessness in them and Finn finally looked at her.

"A dream. A dream. Tell me, what kind of dream is that? It's funny. Mick told me a story of some fellow they arrested a couple years back. He killed his wife in bed but swore that he'd only dreamed he'd done it, and when he woke up he found her dead. The judge obviously didn't buy his tale and the fellow ended up with a noose around his neck. We had a laugh over it, saying how rubbish a plea it was. But now I think—hells, maybe he was telling the truth."

He laughed a little to himself, but before Anna could reply he spoke again.

"But I still think he got what was coming to him."

Anna didn't really know what to say. "It was a dream," she repeated.

"It wasn't," he said slowly. "There was something else. Some trick, some mask. It wanted me to hurt you. I only saw it just at the last... A voice... I'm sure it said, _see? _It could make me do that. It could make me hurt you. It was a ransom."

His voice was hollow and Anna stared at him.

"You make it sound as if there was a will behind it."

"There is," Finn said. "Of course there is. How else could you explain it? These...gifts I have. It's not natural. Someone willed them on me. _Something. _And every time the price gets heavier."

"A ransom..." she said.

"Aye. There's a price to pay. I can feel it. Every time... Something is gained but something else gets taken away. I can't explain that...it just is."

"But what does it want?" she asked.

Finn scowled into the air. "Me. It wants me. It wants me to surrender."

Anna could only stare at him again. She never heard Finn speak that way before. Surrender what? He had nothing to give. Anna shuddered and shook her head.

"It's a curse of some kind, it must be. Maybe one of the priests—"

"It's not. It's all wrong, Anna. Every last fucking thing is wrong, and it's getting worse every day."

His words stung her and she stepped back. Anna wanted to say something, anything, but at that moment she felt empty as those words. She knew his dreams weren't ordinary nightmares; any fool could see that. But with everything she'd sacrificed for him, all the tears she'd cried, the return of his nightmares left her feeling more lost and helpless than she could imagine. Anna turned and went back to the inn leaving Finn to brood behind her.

...

Once again she entered the front door, hoping to avoid Imoen. Anna could hear the guests in the dining room but as she passed by the library she was startled when a voice called out her name.

"Mistress Whitehaven? Oh I say, this is a surprise!"

Anna paused and peeked around the corner, surprised herself to see an elderly mage addressing her.

"Master Elvenhair? What are you doing here?"

The words sounded rude but Anna was too taken aback by the presence of the affable old fellow to be polite. Firebead Elvenhair had the reputation as something of an eccentric around Beregost, though she knew him to be a talented wizard. They knew each other in the way that two mages who generally kept to their own business did, through the occasional sharing of components and the odd talk about a subject that few in the area had any expertise. Too late it occurred to her as well that the mage had access to the library at Candlekeep thanks to a comfortable inheritance from his adventuring mother.

"Yes, I know I am a more frequent spirit here in the summer," Firebead replied. "This is not the time of year for old bones to be away from their home hearth, that is for certain! But I've been researching the carnivorous fungi of the Chultan rainforests and I appeared to have reached a dead end. Still, I remembered encountering a tome here by a gnomish explorer who spent decades amongst the native tribes, discovering their secret to training semi-sentient mushrooms to serve as defences for their villages. Unfortunately he strayed rather too close to a sentinel one day—"

"I'm not too familiar with the subject," Anna managed to interject.

"Ah? Of course, yes, I begin to ramble," Firebead said cheerfully. "But what brings you here, my dear? I seem to recall you married into the family, as it were. Are you on a visit?"

"Yes, you might say so," Anna said cautiously.

"Very good, very good. Never underestimate the value of marrying well, I always say. Which perhaps is why I have never married at all," he chuckled.

Anna smiled but didn't entirely hear what she said. The appearance of a familiar face from home startled her more than she would be willing to admit. She thought for a moment to ask if he'd heard any news of Maya's family, but of course he wouldn't. Old scholars such as him would hardly take notice of the affairs of a commonplace farming family.

"And how is Finnigan doing?" Firebead suddenly asked. "The last I heard of him he'd joined the Flaming Fist. I can only imagine what old Gorion might have to say on that. _Hm! _Drive the fellow into his grave, if he sadly hadn't found it already."

Anna was thankful that Firebead was too distracted by his breakfast tray to notice the look that passed over her face.

"He's...well," she stammered.

"Very good," the mage said, wiping the honey from a currant bun off his fingers with a linen napkin. "I'm glad that someone in this blasted place is feeling above board. It's growing absurd, I tell you."

"What do you mean, sir?" Anna asked.

"Well, take that archivist, Phlydia. Normally that woman has brains scattered like feathers after a fox pays his visit to a henhouse. But this trip she's brought me _exactly _the books I requested, and in a prompt manner to boot! It's just unbearable, mistress."

He shook his head forlornly and Anna gave him a look.

"She's been doing her work, then? But I don't—"

"Oh, but don't you _see?" _Firebead interrupted. "I've gotten so used to the useless woman that I've adapted to her routine. Some of the volumes she brings me contain facts I'd never think to look for myself, and her dilly-dallying always gives me time to organise my notes. But now she's prompt and efficient and I can't get a single thing done!" he groaned. "Yet who can I complain to? _Master Ulraunt, Phlydia is now a paragon of punctuality and I insist you let her go at once?_ No, they've all gone mad here. But where are my manners? Come, join me, and I will tell you the latest gossip about Thalantyr."

Firebead smiled warmly but somehow Anna felt her head spinning even more than when she entered the room.

"No, thank you... I have things to do. Perhaps we can talk later?"

"Yes, I'd like that. These nobles are more tiresome than I can possibly describe. Lord Malvern actually had the cheek to correct me on the title of a book on the fire ferns of the Anauroch—never minding that it was I who wrote it. I wouldn't be surprised if a few spores of the Chultan _trumpet of death _found their way into his jacket pocket. Oh, don't look at me that way. In spite of the name they are really quite harmless...unless provoked."

Firebead gave her a rather naughty look but Anna felt beyond humour, and she excused herself from the room.

...

In guilt she noticed the breakfast tray was still where she left it. Anna made an effort with the sweet buns and discovered she actually had a strong appetite, but the porridge had congealed into a paste too unpalatable even for her liking. She stood at the window watching as the various citizens of Candlekeep went about their business, treading carefully in the snow. Lost in her thoughts she didn't notice the sound of footsteps in the hall until someone knocked on her door. Anna licked her fingers and went to the door, somehow rather surprised to see Finn standing there.

"I'm going down to the village," he said. "Do you want to come with me?"

Anna was even more surprised by his words, but she nodded slowly. She put on her cloak once more and followed him out of the inn and under the massive keep gate. They walked down the hill in silence, with the snow underfoot crunching and squeaking in an almost inconsiderate way.

The whole world was white and the strain of it made Anna's eyes squint up. The bare branches of the trees were outlined with snow and it made the distant ocean seem more grey. Finn walked upright and tall in his cloak, his eyes focused straight ahead. She wondered what he was thinking but she didn't ask—likely she'd find out soon enough.

The small village looked sleepier than ever in the snow and only the impressions of a few feet told that anyone had been out in the morning. Finn slowly mounted the steps to the inn, but at the door he paused.

"Maybe you should let me go in first," he said.

Anna shuddered in her cloak, thinking she'd rather not be standing outside on that cold morning. But considering the circumstances she agreed. Finn drew open the rough door, stepped inside then closed it behind him. Anna waited, listening, holding her breath to hear any noise from within.

After a moment she heard voices. One was Finn's, she could tell, but she couldn't hear what he said. The other was clearly female. It was low at first but after a minute the pitch began to rise. The conversation went on and Anna grew more and more desperate to hear.

Her hand clasped on the frigid iron of the door ring but suddenly she paused. She felt like an outsider, an intruder—why? Finn was her husband. She had a right to be there. Anna drew a sharp breath and with a pounding heart stepped into the inn.

As before her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark tavern, but as her vision cleared Anna wished that she couldn't see what was before her. Finn stood in the centre of the room holding the full-bellied maid as best he could in his arms.

"I don't care!" the woman exclaimed. "You're not—_you! _What are you doing here? Get the hells out of my inn!"

Anna felt the hairs rise on her neck as the statement was clearly directed at her. She stood firm although she had no answer for the woman's tirade.

"Suzy—" Finn began.

"No, I don't care," she shouted. "Who the hells are you? You're his _wife?_ You lied to me! I brought you jam and made up a bloody bed for you that you never even slept in. Who are you, anyway? Who's she that's so special that you'd marry _her?_ Answer me that, eh?"

Suzanne charged towards Anna threateningly holding up a fist, but she stopped after a few steps. Anna still felt mute; her mouth opened but nothing came out.

"Who's she?" Finn shot back. "Well, who are you? You knew I was leaving here. I told you that again and again. That I disappeared before you could make your big announcement isn't here nor there. Hells, for all I know you might've planned the whole damn thing!"

"Don't you _dare _talk to me that way!" the woman said, whirling back to him. "You're a liar and all. You said I could come with you, remember? Or is that just the sort of talk you keep for the hay loft?"

"Bloody hells, Suzy, that was hardly a fecking proposal," Finn groaned. _"Maybe_ you _might_ come with me? Tag along? You could go where you pleased, nothing to do with me. Why does everyone in this place think they're planted to the spot?"

"Because some of us have got things to care for?" Suzy replied. "Dad takes care of this inn on his lonesome, he needs me here. We can't all bugger off any time it jolly well suits us."

"Then why'd you want to go in the first place? Or did you expect me to change my mind, and spend the rest of my life pulling pints in your dad's tavern?" he said.

The maid's mouth opened and she stammered out the words.

"Oh, you are a complete _arse!"_

"Finn..." Anna finally managed to say.

It felt like a wasted effort but she needed to say something. The maid wiped her eyes and turned back to her.

"Aye, and maybe I didn't fare so bad after all. How do you like being his wife? Does he treat you like shite too?"

"I never—" Finn began.

"Oh no? He blacked your eyes yet? Or maybe I'm just the lucky one," she spat.

Anna took a step back from the woman, staring at her with a startled look. Finn's face turned to a dark scowl.

"Don't say shite like that to her!" he growled.

"Why not? It's the truth, ain't it?" Suzy demanded, giving her curls a toss.

_"One time!" _Finn shouted back. "And I only hit you because you wouldn't stop trying to claw me eyes out, you mad wench!"

"You let all Dad's pigs out when you were too damn drunk to remember to close the yard gate! You know how much that set us back? We ate porridge for tea for a month after that!"

"It wasn't my job to see the gate was shut," he exclaimed, but Finn was interrupted by another voice.

"What's going on in here?" the landlord said, stepping in through the kitchen. "I could bloody hear shouting from the—oh, no. You can get the right hells out of my inn! Get my daughter that way, I should have you!"

He faced Finn with a determined stance, his stocky legs and arms braced in anger. Finn's temper didn't seem much better and he sneered at the man.

"Well, we'll just see who the kid looks like, shall we? I reckon Suzy was pretty fond of that ginger-haired guard from Tethyr, weren't you?"

The maid swore at him and Anna recoiled herself. His tone was so ugly and hateful that his words stung even though they weren't meant for her. Her father shouted and advanced on Finn but suddenly Anna threw herself between them.

_"Stop! _Stop this," she cried, almost in tears. "I can't take anymore of this. We need to leave."

"Oh, aye—just run off again," Suzy said, her face likewise red with anger and hurt. "This kid is yours, however much you want to slander me. But I don't care. We don't need you. Just get out of here! This baby will be better off not knowing how much of a lying, drunken bastard his father is. _Just get out!_ We don't need you here."

In spite of her defiant words the woman promptly burst into tears. She clutched her apron to her face and hurried up the stairs. Her father watched her leave, then turned to Finn with as black a look as his round face could allow.

"You son of a bitch," he said with a shaking voice. "Get out of here and don't come back. You do, I'm going to pull that sword over the bar down and give you a slicing. Nobody wants you here—your leaving was the best thing that ever happened to this gods-forsaken place. Now leave!"

...

The landlord had entirely ignored her presence but Anna took his orders to heart. She fled back out into the blinding white, her feet slipping in the snow as she mounted the hill. She could hear Finn's voice calling after her but she ignored it and it soon faded behind. She only knew she had to get away from that hateful place, from those words that struck like knives. Anna felt like she'd turned over a rock to find spiders and other foul things that had been hidden from view, and she desperately wished it could turn back again.

She ran on blindly but halfway up the hill she stopped. A figure was walking towards her. His grey cloak seemed to reflect the whiteness around, making him almost seem a part of the snow. Anna drew ragged breaths in the frigid air, staring at the man and wondering what new madness had taken her.

_"Xan?" _she exclaimed.

The elf looked at her but made no response as his feet lightly crunched closer. It was him, but how or why he was there she couldn't imagine.

"What are you doing here?" she managed to ask while brushing the loose, sweaty hair from her eyes.

"We came seeking you," Xan finally replied. "We have been to the monastery but the girl said you were not there."

He spoke almost as if he'd merely called round to visit one afternoon and found them gone, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. By 'the girl' Anna assumed he meant Imoen, but the statement still didn't answer her questions. Fortunately Xan was now followed by other well-bundled figures who made their way down the hill.

"Jaheira...what are you doing here?" Anna asked again.

This time the question was tempered by relief. As if in answer to a prayer she watched the druid and her husband make their way down the snowy track, followed by Kivan and Xan's companion Luedre. It was impossible that they were there—even at a full gallop it would take many days to ride in from the city. Jaheira's look was hard though and Anna flushed deeper remembering their clandestine escape.

"We sought to find you before you did something irrevocably foolish," she said. "Fortunately for us Luedre was able to provide swift transport."

Anna looked at the elf in surprise, and she touched an amulet that hung around her neck with a frown.

"The Greycloaks have entrusted me with this enchantment, but I do not think aiding a wanted criminal is what they had in mind. Yet I will follow my Lord Xan's bidding," Luedre said.

Her silvery voice had a flat tone and she glanced in Xan's direction. For his part the enchanter showed no reaction to the comment.

"Finn may be wanted, but in spite of his sheer idiocy he is not the criminal I am concerned with," Jaheira remarked. "Our contacts have evidence that Sarevok Anchev has met with a group of known assassins from Sembia. What is more, their description sounds very much like the group that targeted Duke Eltan. And...I fear that Finn may be familiar with them, as well."

"What do you mean?" Anna asked.

"He t-told us about the group that t-targeted his patrol, when Captain Merion was killed," Khalid said. "We think n-now this was likely the s-same band."

"They are dangerous, very dangerous," Jaheira said gravely. "An elite group of mercenaries who work only for those with the deepest pockets. If Finn encountered them then he is fortunate to still be alive. But by the time we learned of this you had already fled the city like children. Still...as always Finn's lack of thought may have saved his life. If these mercenaries are in the city then it is not unreasonable to assume that they may have him in their sights again."

Anna felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"If it can be shown that Anchev has dealings with these criminals then it may be enough to convince the other Dukes to move against him," Jaheira said. "As it stands the city is on the brink of war. Eltan and Anchev both seem keen on conflict, but privately we feel the other two are yet reluctant."

"And I say again this is folly," Kivan spoke. "We should move against Anchev now, not be hunting around for these rats in the darkness."

"My heart agrees, but to stage another coup would only bring more chaos," the druid replied. "Anchev has built his power on lies, and to defeat him we must expose them to the light. But this is our last chance. Even now one or both of the armies may be on the move. We need to stop them."

Anna breathed deep and glanced around at the whitewashed world. Everything seemed in such conflict—the maid, Finn's dreams, now assassins on the hunt. Yet she felt such relief at the arrival of her friends that she had to fight off the urge to give Jaheira a tight hug.

"Where is Finn?" the druid asked, as if suddenly noticing he wasn't with Anna.

"Finn? He's...gone," the mage replied distractedly. She looked down the hill and realised he was nowhere in sight.

"Is he in the village? We should collect him at once," Jaheira said.

"No—I'll find him," Anna said. "I'll meet you back at the keep. But how did you even get inside?"

"Our affiliation grants us some p-privileges," Khalid said. "Though the K-keeper of the Tomes seemed less than pleased by our arrival."

"Indeed," Jaheira replied strangely. "But you should find Finn and come back to the stronghold as soon as you can. There is much to discuss, and it may not be safe even here."

That was certainly true, Anna thought. She said farewell to her companions who thankfully turned back towards the fortress, sparing any further encounters in the village. Anna had little idea how to venture that subject and she had no intention of doing so, regardless. That would keep as a private misery for now.

...

Anna knew that Finn hadn't returned to the monastery, and she assumed he wouldn't be sheltering in the village. Fortunately the snow was deep enough that even her limited tracking skills allowed her to follow his footprints into the trees. At least she hoped they were his, or she might find herself surprising a local woodsman with her appearance.

The forest bore that muffled hush that woodland always did in snow; all around her was pure silence except for the occasional soft patting sound of snow falling from a branch. A clump of evergreens played shelter to a group of sparrows who had decided to face the winter rather than fly south, and their bright chattering brought welcome life into the stillness. In the distance Anna could hear the steady drone of the sea as it pounded the cliffs, the waves made angry by the approaching lash of another storm.

She thought perhaps Finn might be headed back to the ranger's hut but the footprints kept going deeper into the trees. Anna felt a faint, momentary fear of being alone in a strange wood, but she reminded herself she could follow the line of the cliffs back to safety. Indeed the footprints seemed to have the same idea for with each step the sound of the waves grew stronger. At last Anna emerged from the trees onto a windswept cliff.

She saw Finn standing some ways off. He made no effort to hold his wraps close and his cloak billowed in the unbroken wind like a battered sail. His eyes stayed focused on the sea and he didn't seem to notice Anna as she carefully picked her way towards him. She was about to speak his name when he finally turned to her.

"You followed me," he said, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"I didn't know where you were," she said.

The words sounded rather foolish somehow, and Finn let out a short laugh.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd want to find me. Are you thinking I'll jump off?"

"No," Anna said quickly, though her stomach turned as she peered over the precipice to the rocky beach below.

"Gorion used to take us here sometimes, when we were kids," Finn said. "Our own little day out at the seaside. There's steps heading down to the beach, but you'd break your neck on them today."

He gestured and Anna saw the remains of a battered, narrow staircase carved into the stone.

"Once upon a time there was a dock down there, in Alaundo's day maybe," Finn continued. "You can still see the stone jetty when the tide is low. Me and Imoen used to go crawling over the rocks, chasing each other around like idiots. I can't count the number of times one of us nearly slipped and bashed our brains out. Gorion must have had nerves of steel to put up with us."

Anna smiled a little but didn't reply, trying to imagine the snow-covered beach in more pleasant weather.

"We used to pretend the dock was still working," he said. "We kept saying that we were going to research a spell to put the stone back into place. I'd have given anything to see a ship moored there."

"Why?" Anna asked.

"You saw," Finn said quietly. "This is what it was like. What _I _was like. I wanted to get away from all that. I wanted to be...different. But I'm not, am I? Five minutes in the room with Suzy and I'm that bastard again. I wanted to do the decent thing, to offer her gold or something...but I don't change. I can't."

"You can change as much as you want to," she said. "But it's up to you to do it. If you want to be a different man, then you need to put in the effort."

"No," he said. "It's all just window dressing. I wanted things to be different with you. I'm sorry."

His words had an empty kind of finality about them. Anna drew her cloak tighter around her cold body.

"It's not over yet," she said quietly. "Maybe we can still have better days."

"I'd like that," he said.

"So would I," she replied.

A choke caught in her throat and Finn suddenly took her in his arms.

"Why though?" he said. "Why are you even here? I'd have thought you'd want to push my sorry arse off the cliff right now. I would, if I was you."

"Because I love you?" Anna said, letting out a short laugh. "And that is so..._hard."_

Finn said nothing but pulled her closer to him. Anna buried her face in his chest, trying to claim some of his warmth for her own.

"Sometimes I wish I didn't," she said. "I want to run home, I want to be free...but I'm not. If I left you I'd regret it forever, I know. I feel like you were always there...I can't remember not knowing you. You make me happy, would you believe that? The in between times, those moments when it's just us...no wars or death...just us. But it's all the other things now, too. And I can't get away from that."

"No," he rasped.

"Don't do this again, Finn. Just...be a better man," Anna said.

Tears began to sting her cheeks, the cold blast nearly turning them to ice. Anna looked up to see that Finn's eyes were red and watery too. He took her face gently in his hands and brushed the tears aside.

"Love," he said. "For you, then. For you."

...

"That is just _lovely. _Just like some sloppy bard's tale."

Anna broke away from Finn's kiss with a frightened start. A tall hulk of a man had emerged unnoticed from the trees and was walking towards them.

"Kaheen, you are a complete imbecile," another disembodied voice said, this one higher and sharper than the first.

The air rippled and a woman appeared from the ether. She was a half-elf of dusky complexion, dressed in leathers and a short cloak.

"I'm not stupid, wench, just not a coward," the man replied. "I like to see their faces."

"My blade shall show you how much of a coward I am, if you dare to insult me again," the woman said. "But for now I just thank Mask that we can finally be done with this accursed place."

"And who the feck are you, then?" Finn demanded.

He asked the question, but if there was any doubt in his mind there was none at all in Anna's. She clenched tight onto his jacket but the woman spoke again.

"Someone who has spent far too long in the company of this lumbering fool for her liking," she replied. "And that is all you truly need to know."

Swift hands reached into her cloak but Anna was faster. With a cry missiles exploded from her hand and flew faster than any arrow towards the woman. But instead of exploding against their target they passed right on through and fizzled into nothing in the trees.

"A fine shot. Such a pity I am over here," another voice said.

Anna whirled just in time to feel something heavy strike her chest. By merest chance the blade deflected off her amulet but she still felt its claw rake her skin. She heard the woman curse but rather than fire another round Anna spoke a quick incantation, calling forth a field of glowing energy around her body. The assassin scowled and vanished into the air again.

She barely noticed that Finn had engaged the man. Their swords were locked but that great brute seemed to have twice Finn's strength and he threw him easily to the ground. Finn rolled out of the way of a cruel strike, sliding perilously close to the edge of the cliff. He grasped in vain at the remnants of dead sea grass to force himself back to safety.

_"Finn!"_ Anna cried out.

"Just get—_over!" _he grunted in reply, scrambling to move his body away through the snow. He just managed to somersault away from another blow, causing the man to lose his balance but losing his own blade in the process. Finn leaped up covered head to foot in snow and the man laughed at him.

"You should've joined the circus," he said.

Finn didn't reply but charged at him boldly. He ducked under the man's blade but the assassin caught him by the neck and squeezed him tight into a headlock. Anna cried out again but she felt an arm slide around her own neck.

The assassin said nothing, but she didn't need to. Anna saw that flash of steel in her hand and she knew its intent. She craned her neck and bit hard as she could into the woman's gloved hand; a rather pointless gesture but it bought her a moment to cast another spell. Anna's hands glowed with a wreath of flame and she flailed them backwards, catching the woman on the side of her head.

She screamed and plunged the dagger down, but this time Anna wasn't so lucky. She screamed herself feeling its fiery point thrust into her shoulder, all too close to her neck. The woman released her hold and Anna kicked out at her. In spite of the burns that now covered her fair face the woman still moved swiftly and easily dodged the mage's pathetic swipe. Anna fell and landed on her back, clutching at her bleeding shoulder as it stained the surrounding snow in crimson.

The assassin raised her blade again, but Anna had at least one spell left. Her hands formed the air and a powerful scent of sulphur mixed with the sharp brine of the sea. In a flash a pair of wolves appeared, ready to do her bidding. She gave them one desperate command and they obeyed, loyal soldiers to the end. The assassin screamed as the enslaved wolves lunged at her, throwing their weight against her body and driving them all from the cliff.

Anna gasped hearing the death-howls of the innocent wolves but her thoughts quickly turned back to Finn. Her heart calmed somewhat though seeing him rising up from the motionless body of the other assassin.

"Big and dumb as an ox," Finn panted, sheathing a bloody dagger back into his belt. "You alright? Is she dead?"

Anna groaned in pain as he helped her rise to her feet. Cautiously they peered over the cliff side, but the red stains that covered the rocks below left little doubt as to the woman's fate.

"The sea will take care of her, then," Finn said. He spat blood over the cliff and wiped his bruised jaw. Finn turned to her and Anna held still as his strange gifts mended the deep gash in her shoulder.

"They were assassins," she began, rubbing the sore spot.

"No kidding," Finn remarked.

"The ones Jaheira told me about," Anna replied, giving him a look. She told the tale of her surprise meeting and a strange look washed over Finn's face.

"Come on, let's get back to the keep. I don't want to chance meeting any more of these bastards out here."

Anna paid one more glance down the blood-stained cliff, then took Finn's hand as they ran slipping fast as they could to the fortress.

...

"I could get that clean for you," Imoen said.

She watched as Anna peeled off her good dress, which was now another ruin of blood and tears.

"Don't bother," Anna said grimly. "You can use it for rags."

Expensive rags of velvet and embroidered silk, she thought ruefully, but concern for her dress was really the last thing on Anna's mind. She removed her stained shift and regarded the purple scar where the dead assassin's blade had found her flesh.

"I'll still give it a try," Imoen replied, picking the garment up from where Anna dropped it on the chamber floor. "Are you sure you don't want a bath? I know I'd want one about now."

"There's no time," she said.

Anna busied herself with sponging the dried blood from her skin, but she happened to catch a glimpse of Imoen's face in the mirror.

"It's all right," Anna suddenly said. "The Watchers have been put on alert, and some of them are even guarding the village. We'll be safe as anything here for now."

"I know that," she replied. "I just can't believe they were here. You always think you're safe at home, you know."

Anna nodded silently, thinking of the time her own home came under attack.

"But it's not safe here," Imoen continued. "Gorion knew that, didn't he? That's why he took Finn away."

"I suppose he did," Anna agreed.

"It's not safe at all," the girl concluded.

Anna slid into her spare shift thinking the girl's expression was strange.

"Imoen—tell me. Why didn't you tell anyone that Finn and I got married? Why keep everything such a secret?"

She'd wanted to ask the question before but there didn't seem to be time. Imoen looked startled and glanced at the floor.

"I don't know. It's kind of silly, isn't it? I guess maybe I just knew..."

"Knew what?" Anna asked, looking up from the laces of her old wool dress.

"I knew it wasn't safe here, too."

Anna looked at her in surprise. "Why, are you afraid of something?"

Imoen had a worried look on her face, staring off into the air as if she were doing mental arithmetic. But suddenly it faded and a smile washed over her.

"Not anymore! We're all going back to the city, aren't we? I'm ready to go. I've been cooped up here far too long! I wasn't kidding when I said I'd been studying magic. Wait till you see what I can do. I think Xan will be especially impressed when he sees me summon up some kobolds—I know how much he likes them."

In spite of everything Anna had to smile. She pulled Imoen into a hug, gore-stained dress and all, and they shared a much-needed laugh.

...

They met with the others in the inn's kitchen. Neither Winthrop nor Vera seemed especially pleased with the added company as they ducked about on their daily tasks.

"Not going to help out, shouldn't be in the kitchen," Winthrop repeated for the twelfth time.

He jostled Xan out of the way as he passed by with a cask of wine for the bar, and the slight elf stood little chance against his bulk. Xan stumbled on his feet but in spite of a passing dirty look had nothing to say to the landlord.

"So frightening it is, all these killers about," Vera said while looking up from her kettle. "I just don't know what I'd do if they were after me."

"You'd get used to it," Finn remarked grimly.

He casually helped himself to a handful of almonds that awaited grinding, though the angle of his shoulders told Anna just how tense he was.

"We should make haste back to the city," Jaheira said. "I had hoped they would not strike here, but this attack shows they are more familiar with Finn's movements than we'd like."

"I don't know," he said. "The way the woman talked it's almost like they'd been here already. Do you think these people want me badly enough that they'd split up their band in the hopes I'd make an entrance? Doesn't make a lot of sense, really."

"The same could be said of this entire venture," Luedre remarked.

"You'll get no arguments from me, flower," Finn replied, plopping a few almonds back in the bowl.

"Perhaps Finn has a point," Kivan said. "Such people do not move idly. Finn is a wanted man, and to return to his home would be a dangerous move. His return here was not assured. Why set a trap for a quarry that may never pass by?"

"Perhaps they also have m-magic at their disposal," Khalid offered. "They may have b-been scouts."

"Probably," Finn said. "But I feel flattered that they'd go through the trouble of coming all the way here for me. Hells, the Flaming Fist didn't even stop by for a visit."

"This is hardly the time for jests, Finn. Think of all the lives these criminals have wasted," Jaheira reminded him.

"I'm trying not to," he scowled in reply.

They all looked up at the sound of a light rap on the kitchen door. A young monk stood there looking apologetic.

"Ey up, Parda," Finn said slowly. "Ulraunt actually unchain you from the desk?"

"Ah, yes," the monk replied. "Actually, he sent me here to summon you. The Keeper would like a word."

Finn seemed almost startled for a moment, but he shrugged it off.

"And I reckon it won't be one normally used in polite company. Alright then. I'll go. I'll see you soon, love, though I don't know how much of my skin I'll have left," he said to Anna.

"Actually, the Keeper has invited your wife along as well," Parda said unexpectedly. "He said he would like to meet her."

"Well, at least there'll be a witness," Finn said. "Although if he starts up you might find jumping out the window a more enjoyable way to spend the afternoon."

Anna didn't terribly appreciate his humour, but she knew he spoke more from nerves than anything. She said a quick good-bye to the others and followed the two men from the warm kitchen, back into the snow.

"Has he said anything? About Gorion?" Finn asked.

"No," Parda sighed. "Tethtoril did mention something about finding his body but the Keeper remained adamant it was too dangerous. And as recent events have shown, perhaps he was right."

Finn didn't reply but Anna thought his footfalls sounded heavier. They approached the iron gate to the inner keep and two guards swung it open without a word.

She came to a near stop craning her neck upwards to see the tower above. As they climbed the great steps Anna felt her heart begin to race.

"You have never been inside the library, have you?"

Anna turned to see the monk smiling shyly at her, and she gave him a nervous one in return.

"No, I never have."

"Then perhaps when you've finished we could take a brief tour. You'd need someone to show you safely to the door, after all, or you might get lost."

He laughed a little and Finn's mouth twisted into a grin.

"You're too decent a bloke to be working for that old sack, Pardy. Lead on."

...

The monk laughed again and drew open the doors. They opened on to a vast central hall. Great tapestries showing the important moments in history covered the walls and their size amazed Anna. Glass display cases filled with books and other objects lined the walls and she craned her neck like a child to see inside. Their footsteps echoed over the mosaic tiles on the floor and Parda pointed out a statue that stood in the centre of the room. It was of a man in flowing robes, holding open before him a scroll that seemed to stretch into infinity.

"The great Alaundo himself, Candlekeep's most illustrious resident. And that is saying something."

"He's buried here, isn't he?" Anna almost whispered.

"Yes, in the catacombs," the monk replied. "Even after five years my feet still walk a little gingerly over the floor, knowing who's sleeping below."

He drew open a door at the opposite end of the hall leading into another vast room, this one filled with books. Anna tried to hide a gasp; even the library at Silverymoon looked like a mere bookcase in comparison. She never imagined there could be so many books in the world.

"This is incredible," she breathed.

"Oh, this?" Parda laughed quietly. "This is just the Hall of Reference. Maps, grammars, things of that nature. The library itself stretches over four floors."

"Four?" Anna exclaimed.

"Come on, love," Finn chuckled. "Save the gawking for later."

Anna gave him a dirty look but she felt too cheered by the sight to be irritated. Had she known the library was like this she'd have scoured the booksellers' shops up and down the land for a tome worthy of entry. Parda led them up a great staircase, past level after level of enticing histories. At last he led them into a narrower building which Anna assumed must be a turret.

"I will let the Keeper know you've arrived," Parda said, disappearing into a chamber.

"Brace yourself," Finn said under his breath.

"Why, is Ulraunt really that bad?" Anna asked.

"Only when compared to a horde of diseased gibberlings. Although in his defence he usually smells slightly better."

Anna had little to say to that as Parda returned and beckoned them inside.

"The Keeper will see you now. Good luck," he added under his breath.

...

He led them into a medium-sized and oddly shaped chamber. The outer walls were rounded from the shape of the turret and three needle-shaped windows threw a grey light into the place. Not surprisingly the walls were covered in bookcases, but Anna was shocked at the level of disarray. Scrolls and odd bits of paper seemed to be bursting out of every nook and cranny, and she was certain some of the books on the shelves were upside down. A great wooden desk stood before the windows and it too was covered in all kinds of stray miscellany.

Behind the desk sat a man that one might be forgiven for mistaking as a large badger. He wore great black robes and had a shock of snow-white hair on his head, though his bushy eyebrows were solidly black. His short beard was grizzled in a salt and pepper fashion and it frowned on the new entrants.

"Well. Finnigan. You've not been back for a full day and already chaos is following in your footsteps. If no one had even mentioned your name I might well have guessed that you'd returned."

"Good afternoon, Master Ulraunt," was all that Finn replied.

The man snorted. "Good afternoon! That's an optimistic saying. What have you brought to our doorstep this time, my boy? Assassins! Murderers! And how are we to know if they have not penetrated the keep itself? I have the safety of every man and woman within these walls to consider, you know. By rights I ought to throw you to the wolves."

"Yes, sir," Finn said.

He stood straight as a poker with his hands tucked behind his back like a schoolboy, though Anna could see a flash in his eyes.

_"Hrm, _yes—I see all you can do is throw manners at me. At least that makes a slight improvement. Perhaps it is down to you newly-acquired marital bliss? What do you say, young woman? How did this rapscallion convince you to marry him?"

Anna tried to put on a friendly smile, though she somehow had the feeling his statement wasn't looking for a response. Ulraunt rose up from his desk and shambled over towards her, and she stood still as the man regarded her in a curious fashion. His breathing was heavy and she recoiled slightly at the distinct smell of onions on his breath.

_"Hrm, _yes, better than I might have expected of you," he said to Finn. "I thought rough and ready barmaids were more to your taste. What do you say, girl? Have you got a name?"

"Anna Whitehaven...Delainis," she stammered.

"Delainis, yes—minor Cormyrian nobility, possessed of small estates in the King's Forest near Arabel. In service to the House of Marliir, the matriarch Delainis is of that family, am I correct?" he asked.

"My grandmother...yes, sir," Anna said, surprised.

"No need to look so shocked," Ulraunt said. "I can recall everything I read, no matter how insignificant the detail. It is both a blessing and a curse. Whitehaven I know less of—a fairly common name. You're certainly not a halfling... By your accent I would say Dalelands—landed gentry in Mistledale, yes. Proprietors of a sizeable water-milling operation. But now that the pleasantries are over, what are we going to do with you, my boy?"

He turned back to Finn, affixing him with that firm gaze. Finn stood even more upright.

"No need for you to do anything, sir. We don't want to bring more trouble here. We can be gone by nightfall."

"Oh, no! You would like that. But you are going to finish what you started. _Gorion's bones_, my boy."

Ulraunt's voice dropped a register and Finn looked at him in surprise.

"Sir?" he said.

"It was you who got the old fool killed, and it is you who will go and fetch him back," he announced. "His bones deserve to rest in the crypt, not to be picked over by the crows and Oghma knows what else."

"I agree, but I thought—" Finn began.

"You thought what?" Ulraunt interrupted. "Don't strain, it was never your strong suit. Bring his bones back to me, boy. Make right some of your many wrongs."

He sat back down at the desk with a faint grunt. Finn in turn seemed more animated than Anna had seen in some time.

"I will, sir. Thank you."

Ulraunt didn't look up from the book on his desk, instead gesturing with a hand towards the door. Finn gave Anna a little smile and she returned it as they left the Keeper of the Tomes to his business.


	103. Gathering Dark

_I'm back! Well, sort of. Hopefully the next update will be a *little* sooner in coming than this one, but I don't have much time for writing these days! It's a long one, at least. Hope you enjoy!_

_..._

"How's that for luck?" Finn said as they left Ulraunt's office. "I never thought he'd change his mind like that."

_"Hm," _Anna replied.

Although she was thankful for Finn's sake, the chance to lay Gorion to rest couldn't have come at a worse time. Who could say if any more assassins were on the hunt? A journey into the wilderness might prove dangerous indeed. Still, she knew what the opportunity must mean to him and she didn't want to raise too obvious an objection.

"I assume he'll spare us a few guards?" she said cautiously. "And we'll need...a wagon."

"Don't know," he frowned. "What with the Keep on alert the captain mightn't be too agreeable to lending us some help. A wagon we could get though, I'll just need a word with Dreppin."

Who Dreppin was Finn didn't say. The monk Parda rose up from his desk as they passed but Finn assured him they could find their own way out. He practically dragged Anna by the arm as they hurried back down the numerous steps and out of the library.

"I'm sure Khalid and Jaheira will come with us," he said quickly. "Kivan would come, maybe Xan too if we asked. There's nothing to worry about."

Anna wished she could feel the same. The more she thought of it the stranger it seemed. Ulraunt had placed Candlekeep on full alert when the news of assassins reached his ears, and even the great drawbridge had been raised to seal off the keep. He knew the potential dangers, was he trying to get them killed? Anna knew the Keeper of the Tomes had little fondness for Finn but it still seemed strange.

"Finn, wait," she said, suddenly pausing in the courtyard. "I'm sorry, but I don't think this is a good idea. You can tell them where the spot is. They can go find Gorion...after."

She trailed off as Finn turned back to her with a rather hard look.

"No. I need to find him. _Me."_

"But why? I know he's your father, but—"

"Because, you heard him. You heard what Ulraunt said. It's my fault he's dead. Mine! And I may never get another chance to—"

"To what, die over his bones?" she interrupted. "You know how dangerous it is. Gorion died trying to save you, do you think he'd want you taking such a risk? He wouldn't. You can't bring him back, Finn."

She spoke the words with a finality and Finn stared at her for a moment, startled.

"Maybe not, but others could. The priests here are powerful, they could resurrect him. They could bring him back."

His words died off and Finn's shoulders sagged as if an invisible weight was balancing there. Anna stepped forward and slowly took his hand.

"Is that what you think? Why you're so determined?" she asked quietly. "He's gone, you know that. That sort of magic is...it's not natural. When people die they move on. They're not meant to come back again."

"He wasn't _meant _to leave in the first place," he remarked. "Not like that. Not...because of me."

"None of us knows how we're meant to leave. None of us knows our fate. Would you do the same, if it were me?"

She squeezed Finn's hand and he looked more startled still.

"Don't say things like that! I've already come closer to losing you more times than I care to think."

"I feel the same way. But Finn—"

"That's just it though," he said. "Ulraunt was right. _Guilt. _If I brought Gorion back, if they did...it would change everything, wouldn't it? He'd be alive, and..."

"And nothing would change," Anna said.

His face twitched and he stared hard at the snow.

"Reckon you're right. We'd still be in this mess, with a trail of bodies stretching all the way back to Nashkel. But Gorion would be here. I could talk to him, ask him for advice... Say I'm sorry. Even that would... But I can bury him, at least. I can do that for him. If you don't want to come you don't have to."

Anna smiled a little. "Have I ever not come with you?"

"No," Finn sighed. "And I knew you had to have a flaw someplace."

She laughed as he placed a kiss on her brow. Anna wrapped her arms around his chest and he drew her close to him.

...

_"Absolutely not," _Jaheira stated. "I am sorry, Finn, but that is a foolish errand."

They all stood round the inn's library, their rough travelling clothes making them look out of place and unwanted in the immaculate room. The druid hadn't reacted well when Finn announced his plan to the group and he took her words with even less good humour.

"You think burying Gorion is a fool's errand?" he growled.

Jaheira's sharp face softened and she looked apologetic.

"I did not mean it like that. Gorion was a dear friend of ours, and Khalid and I would want nothing more than to see him properly laid to rest. But you must see how dangerous this is. We have no way of knowing who else might be lurking outside that gate. And what if we were to encounter a Flaming Fist patrol? We shall have a difficult enough time hiding you when we return to the city, and I'd rather not start here. We cannot do this."

"I know it's dangerous, I'm not that much of an idiot," Finn replied. "And I never said you needed to go with me. Anna and I'll go."

Anna glanced down as he nominated her for the patrol, and Jaheira turned to her with an exasperated sigh.

"Can you not talk him out of this?" she asked.

"I'm afraid not," Anna said.

"Don't forget me!" Imoen declared. "I'll go—if Winthrop lets me, that is."

Finn looked dubious. "Maybe you ought to—"

"If you're going to say I'll be better off here, then assassins are going to be the least of your troubles, mister," she claimed.

"Alright then," he said, a little grin slipping out. "Why don't you go bribe Dreppin with a pie or two and see if he'll let us use the wagon?"

"Will do. He fancies me, you know," Imoen said airily.

"And lucky you," Finn snorted. "Betrothed to the handsomest stable hand this coast ever saw!"

Imoen stuck her tongue out at him and Xan suddenly spoke.

"There is no need for a wagon. If you are determined to do this thing, then Luedre can transport us there."

It was hard to say who looked more surprised by the offer, Finn or the elven woman. Both their mouths opened but Finn spoke first.

"Cheers, Xan. That would save us a lot of time. And be safer all around, don't you think?"

"It is indeed most generous, _heruamin," _Luedre began. "But I do not think I could find this place without a marker, and I cannot entrust this magic to anyone else."

By _anyone else _Anna gathered that she meant anyone human. Xan touched his fingertips together and looked absently down at the floor.

"That is true, but if Finn were to open his mind to me I could discover the place and use the amulet myself. If he is willing, of course."

He glanced up and those eyes fixed on Finn. Anna knew the enchanter still wasn't entirely himself but she thought his voice had an odd tone. Finn looked like he'd swallowed a bottle of Jaheira's tonic but he slowly nodded his head.

"Alright. If that's what it takes. Just don't go rooting around in there, eh? Some of that is private."

He gave Anna a cheeky grin but she could see a nervousness in his eyes. She couldn't blame him—having been on the receiving end of Xan's enchantment herself the last thing she'd consider was letting the elf into her mind. That Finn was willing showed just how much he wanted to find Gorion's resting place.

"Let's get going, then," Finn said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Wait just a moment," Jaheira interrupted. "We cannot teleport from within the fortress. And we will need a stretcher, and shovels besides."

Her words betrayed her continued reluctance but Finn shook his head.

"We can get a stretcher from the barracks. Don't need any shovels, we covered him with rocks. But if we're going, let's go."

He turned and swept out of the room without another word to anyone else. They all stood looking after him and Khalid let out a sigh.

"It will be alright, m-my love. If there is d-danger we can return in the b-blink of an eye."

"Perhaps, as you say," Jaheira said thoughtfully. "We can return here swiftly. And our old friend should be laid to rest."

What so concerned her Anna couldn't say—they faced danger on the road but surely no one could be lying in wait at such a remote spot. Either way she didn't feel much more comfortable with the task.

"Just let me get my cloak," Imoen said. "Don't leave without me!"

She hurried off to the stairs and Anna roused herself.

"I'll go after Finn. It shouldn't take too long."

...

She went back into the cold and tried to make pace with Finn's long tracks in the snow. But the tracks disappeared into the bunkhouse and Anna felt reluctant to follow him inside. Since arriving in Candlekeep she'd overheard a few conjectures about her and Finn's romantic life from his old guard mates, and she didn't fancy a trip into their den. She turned to head back to the inn but a thought came into her mind.

Maya always said it was bad luck to disturb the dead. She was fond of telling over and over again the tale of how a local solicitor, rather more fond of his second wife than his first, decided to move his late wife's remains out of the family crypt and into a lonely grave. After that he was immediately 'stricken' she said, taken ill and lingered on as an invalid while his new wife busied herself with spending his coin.

She always paid little heed to the housekeeper's country superstitions, but something in her temperament now made Anna fear the unknown. Gorion was unlikely to display the same wrath as the solicitor's shrewish wife but it still made sense to follow proper decorum. Surely one of the priests at the temple would be willing to come with them? She turned on her heel again and made her way to the Temple of the Binder.

But the temple still seemed empty; the priests there must spend a great deal of their time at the library. That hollow stillness together with the slightly musty odour of books now somehow reminded Anna of a tomb. Not for the first time she was thankful the Earthmother kept her temples outdoors. Anna made her way quietly up through the rows of desks and a voice nearly made her jump out of her skin.

"Is he with you?"

Anna choked down her breath and turned around. Much to her surprise she saw the maid Suzy hunched over a desk. She sat up and brushed the loose curls from her eyes while giving Anna a frosty look.

"No...no, he isn't. What are you doing here?" she asked.

Suzy tossed her head. "Reckon you'd look shocked. One o' the help, up here on the hill with the fancy folk? The world is in a state these days."

"That isn't what I meant," Anna replied. Her own words were dry and the maid smirked a little.

"Aye, aye. But they're not all bad. That Ulraunt, the master—he sent word that I could stay up here till the danger was gone. I reckon he must've heard about my condition, though I'd never have thought he'd care. Still, it were proper decent of him. Not so fancy as I'd thought up here," she added. "Don't know what I was expecting, gold walls or the like."

She drummed her fingers against the wood thoughtfully, and Anna smiled politely.

"No. I suppose it is just a place, after all."

She slid into the desk next to the woman. Suzy twitched and rubbed her large belly distractedly, and neither said anything for a time. Anna had a difficult time understanding her feelings. She was married to Finn but Suzy had something that Anna didn't, and slowly she realised it wasn't just the child.

"What was he like?" she began, hesitant. "I mean...you. Did you mean what you said back there? How he treated you?"

After last night's episode the question weighed heavily in her mind. But the maid sighed and stared off into the middle distance.

"I don't know what I meant," she replied. "Don't think it matters much now."

"It does," Anna said.

"Why, has he done that to you too?"

"No...I mean not..." Anna hesitated.

"I just can't believe he'd get _married,_" Suzy blurted out, ignoring the mage's statement. "He's not even been gone a year! I know he didn't really want to marry me. I'm not that much of a goose. But I didn't think...I didn't think he'd go and marry anyone else, either."

She sighed again and twisted a kerchief in her hands. Yellowing lace bordered against the faded, thin white linen. It was an old-looking piece of finery, an heirloom perhaps? Anna glanced up at her. Suzy's eyes had that glassy red of a faded cry and her cheeks were pale. In spite of everything it was difficult to envy her. Anna still found it hard to decide what to feel at all.

"By the way he talks he had a few girls here," she began.

_"Pfft," _Suzy interrupted. "Some lady's maid here and there? Maybe. I didn't have no way of knowing what he got up to on the hill, but he couldn't have got into that much trouble. There's a shortage of gossip in this place and I've had heard about it. Don't pay any mind to him."

The woman's dismissive statement went a ways in making Anna feel better, but there was still one question she needed to ask.

"Did you love him?" she said quietly.

She felt her tongue thickening and that queer feeling burned in her stomach. Suzy bit her lip, then nodded.

"Still do. Pathetic as an old hound, I am. I reckon you must hate me. I'd want to claw my eyes out if I was you."

"And what about me?" Anna remarked. "You must feel the same. But I don't hate you, for whatever it's worth. Why would I? You've not done anything to me."

The words came from nowhere, as if she'd just realised that fact herself. Suzy wiped her nose with the old handkerchief and nodded.

"No," she said. "And neither have you, I reckon. I'm sorry for all that earlier. To be honest I wouldn't be much surprised if he never mentioned me. Finn liked to talk big. Make you think he'd have the whole world on his platter some day. So what did he promise you?"

"Promise?"

"Reckon he must've said something. Lads usually do promise their girls something, unless they're in my way, of course. By then they've already made their promises."

Anna smiled a little at her rueful joke.

"I don't know. He promised me a home, an ordinary life. But he'd broken that vow before we'd even taken ours. That's all I really wanted. You can keep the world, I've seen enough of it."

She made a weary sigh of her own. Finn had promised her the life she wanted—a husband, a family, a home. It had never occurred to her that it might just have been that—a lad's promise. A promise broken once he had what he sought. The idea was new and it startled her.

"Have you lived here your whole life?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Just about," Suzy said. "We came from a village up by the city. Dad was an ostler and Ma worked the bar, and between the two of them they had an idea to be landlords. But it were just a dream as they didn't have the coin. One day though Dad got word of this inn going cheap. Fellow what owned it was eager to sell, and you can see why—living in this gods-forsaken place would drive anyone mad. Ma hated it here so much I think she died just to get away."

Whether or not the woman spoke in jest Anna found it hard to say. She cleared her throat instead.

"Finn used to talk about how quiet it was. I thought it sounded rather pleasant, myself. But then I like the country."

"Yeah, well, he was good for talking," Suzy said airily. "Finn wanted the world so bad he could taste it. Always telling me about the places he'd read about in that fancy library of his, places he was sure must be out there somewhere. He never seemed like much of a homebody, that's for certain."

"You've known him a long time, then," Anna remarked.

"Since we were kids. His father never let him out of the keep till he was ten years old, did you know? Mighty odd if you ask me. I still remember the first time I saw him," Suzy chuckled. "I was out drawing up water from the well. I turned around and then here was this lad sitting on the fence, watching me. Strangers aren't nothing new here, but something—I almost reckoned he was a demon."

"A what?" Anna said, startled.

"Like one of those things you hear about in stories," she clarified. "That stranger at the crossroads. He had that look about him. Bright, bright blue eyes. I were only a little girl but I knew something about him, even then. That lad would get me into trouble some day."

Suzy chuckled again but Anna remained still. She heard perhaps something in the woman's tale that even she didn't realise was there.

"So what happened?" she asked. "That day, I mean."

"Oh, nothing really. He just asked me for a drink, asked me my name. Said he lived up at the fortress. Weren't till we were older that we got to messing about," she said.

"Then it is his, then," Anna said slowly.

"Aye. I'm not so much a harlot as he'd like to make out," Suzy said, her face turning hard. "He's the only lad I've lain with. There was that driver from up Waterdeep way, but it was only once, and I don't think that really counts."

Anna had nothing to say to that. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that scene at the well. Finn, as a young boy... The maid had something of his she didn't, and it wasn't just the child. It was his past.

For her part Anna had none of that—just a few stories, some more appealing than others. Who was this orphan she'd married? Not for the first time she wondered. The stranger at the crossroads...surely Gorion couldn't just have _found _him. Could he? He lied to Finn about where he came from. Somehow Anna felt a veil falling over her and she jerked her eyes open with a start.

"We're going to find him. Gorion, I mean," she added, realising the woman wouldn't understand what she was talking about.

"Strange to think of the old man sleeping out there," Suzy said. "I think I only ever saw him twice. He never mixed with us. We heard about what happened, bits of it. Fancy, hired killers going after Finn—what's that mean? I've wanted to do him in myself more than once, but even so—"

"I don't know. Do you?" Anna interrupted.

The maid shook her head.

"No. Them monks would know, though. I'd bet you any gold they do. _Of course _they do. They know everything, don't they? They know. But it's why they're not telling that makes me wonder."

Anna said nothing. Yet again Suzy's words carried more weight than she'd have liked. Ulraunt...he would know. Gorion did, and Ulraunt surely would know the same. Why hide the truth? Why hide any of it? The longer she stayed in Candlekeep, the less she liked of it. And the more she thought of it the less she liked their intended mission.

"I need to go," Anna suddenly said, rising to her feet. "We'll be back later, though. If you want, I'd...I'd like to talk some more. If it's alright with you."

"Suits me," Suzy said with a shrug. "They've put me up in that tower there. No fancy inn for me—must reckon I'd soil their nice sheets. I don't care for it much, too cold. In honesty I'd been hoping to have another go at Finn, but I'm too worn out for that now. I'm thinking I might just go back home."

"Perhaps you should," Anna said. "But I'll...see you, then."

Suzy shrugged again and nodded off into space, an intentionally disinterested gesture. Anna forgot all about her purpose at the temple and hurried out the door.

...

In her absence the few necessary items had been obtained, and Anna followed the group as they made their way out of the fortress and further down the hill. Finn and Kivan walked at the fore bearing a rough stretcher made of canvas and pine poles between them. Imoen trundled along as best she could behind, her arms filled with old stable blankets. Her fur-trimmed hood rose up in a little peak giving her a slightly gnomish quality as she hurried after the tall men. It seemed an ill-fitting hearse to guide such a man home, Anna thought.

It did seem to resemble a funeral procession, as Khalid and Jaheira, then Xan and Luedre followed slowly behind the trio. Anna herself lingered in the rear. The two elves spoke quietly together in their language but the cold breeze brought their words to her ears. She tried to listen after a fashion, unconcerned with her eavesdropping.

_"I understand that the man wishes to bury his father, but I still do not know if—" _Luedre began.

_"It is a chance. It must be done," _Xan replied.

_"Then I fear what you might find. But as you wish. As always," _the woman said.

The last thought carried a slight edge. Anna wondered what she feared Xan might find...what, in Finn's mind? The enchanter had always treated Finn with a degree of suspicion. And if he planned on treating Finn with the same courtesy as he had with her then she began to worry herself.

"Here should do," Xan called out to the others. "I feel we are beyond the keep's magical barriers."

Finn and Kivan paused, then slowly turned the stretcher round in the snow. The rest of the group came forward and formed a loose circle around the enchanter. Finn left the stretcher in Kivan's care and walked up to Xan.

"Right. So what do we do?"

His face was hard and he didn't seem much pleased with the business. Xan took the amulet from Luedre and gestured for him to come closer.

"Do not be concerned. I will need you to recall that night in your mind, when you and Gorion came under attack. Hold the vision firmly in your mind."

Finn jerked nervously. "Why do you need to see that? I can recall the place well enough on its own."

"I am sorry," he replied. "But this is a delicate operation, and we need a strong imprint if we are going to proceed. Are you prepared?"

"Yeah," Finn said, and drew in a sharp breath.

He screwed his eyes tight closed and clamped down his jaw. His brow knotted up and Xan stepped forward. The elf reached up and slowly placed his long fingers on Finn's temples. Anna's chest began to hurt and she suddenly realised she'd been holding her breath. Xan looked at Finn for a moment then closed his eyes. Subtly Anna felt the world around them begin to blur, and in a moment it all passed away.

...

The elven magic was a great improvement on her own but she still felt the need to clear her head when the world appeared again. Gone was the empty white cliff, replaced instead by forest. All around the black skeletons of trees were coated in white and the snow at their feet was unblemished by human footprints. The only distinguishing feature of the place was a small mound of grey rocks capped in snow.

"There," Finn said quietly.

Knowing they stood at a gravesite gave the forest a different feel. The trees arched above the barrow like the vaults of a temple, framing the slate grey sky like a leaded window between their limbs. A sapling leaned towards the grave, held down by the weight of snow as it mourned by the great man's side. The birds kept a respectful silence and the only sound to be heard was the group breathing.

Finn stared at the grave, then his body suddenly shook as if broken from a trance. He stepped forward and brushed a bit of snow away with his glove.

"Doesn't look disturbed. This should be pretty easy."

"Finn...are you well?" Jaheira asked.

There was a tone of concern, even a touch of kindness not often heard in the druid's words. Anna looked at her husband. He did seem frighteningly pale.

"Well as you'd expect," he grumbled. "Want to give me a hand?"

He began to clear away the rocks methodically as a farmhand. "Shouldn't we say a prayer first?" Anna suddenly asked.

"Yeah," Finn said. "Though I reckon Jaheira is best suited for that."

He paused abruptly and let the rock he carried roll away in the snow. Jaheira drew in a deep breath, her eyes focused on the cairn.

"Yes, perhaps...I am not a follower of Oghma, but I hope he would hear our words. _Great Binder, knower of all that is seen and unseen..."_

The druid closed her eyes and raised up her hands in prayer. They all fell into silent communion but Anna heard little of what Jaheira said. Her eyes were focused instead on Xan. He stood some feet in front of her so she could watch him without concern. His face looked tight, pained almost, and he kept glancing at Finn. More than that there was an air of puzzlement there, like he was seeking for something lost.

Had he indeed seen something in those few moments he had access to Finn's mind? Anna kept staring at the elf, but she turned pink as he suddenly glanced over his shoulder as if she'd been thinking aloud. Xan turned back around and she bit her lip and tried in vain to listen to the rest of Jaheira's petition.

"Thank you, m-my love," Khalid said when she'd finished. "I am certain our old f-friend is sm-smiling on us."

"Let us hope so," she replied.

Jaheira's hand strayed over a rock thoughtfully, but then her grip turned firm. Khalid, Jaheira and Finn went to work on the pile while the others held back. Imoen dashed forward and removed a stone but then stepped back again, almost frightened somehow. She came and stood next to Anna, her shoulders hunched and small within her cloak. Kivan stood stiff and calm, his black eyes watching the scene in a deceptively passive fashion. Luedre's face was neutral and Xan's hands stayed buried in his long robe sleeves.

Anna looked away when she saw a flash of colour in the snow. She saw red and for one moment her confused mind thought it was blood, but it was merely the lining of a cloak. The three were silent as they moved what was left of Gorion onto the stretcher. Not until he was safely covered in blankets did Anna dare to look again.

"That's that then," Finn breathed. "I suppose we should get on back."

His face hadn't developed any more colour and Anna thought his lip was quivering. It was true though; there was nothing to say and nothing left to do. Once again they all gathered around Xan as he called forth the magic in the amulet's stone. Stretcher, men and elves slowly blurred from sight, leaving the forest empty once more.

"We'll bring him to the temple," Finn said as they marched back up the cliff towards the monastery. "They'll want to have a service."

He'd left his half of the burden to Khalid, and the Harper followed along behind Kivan as they bore Gorion home. Khalid was notably shorter than the elf and in spite of their efforts they were forced to carry the stretcher at an angle. Finn walked swiftly at the front, seemingly not aware of those who followed after. Anna knew better but it would be obvious to anyone that Finn was upset. His face was white as the snow on the ground and nearly as cold.

Once inside the keep he repeated his instructions to leave Gorion at the temple, then set off without another word towards the tower. Jaheira looked rather disgusted but she let him go without comment. Anna hurried after Finn and caught up with him before he went inside.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

The words sounded more harsh than she intended and Finn gave her a dirty look.

"I'm going to see Ulraunt. He'll want to know the business is finished. Is that alright with you?"

Anna looked at him in surprise and he groaned slightly.

"I'm sorry. It's just a lot harder than I expected, you know?"

"You thought it would be easy?" she said.

"No, of course not," he snapped. "Just leave me alone for a little while, alright? I want to get my head clear."

His words felt like a slap in the face, and Anna grimly left him to his business.

...

Her own mood had begun to match Finn's and she retreated to her chamber at the inn. Quietly Anna sat in the fine armchair staring out at the blankness of white in the courtyard. It was sullied now by footprints, traces left of invisible passers-by as they went about their unknown missions. Although she sat for over an hour Anna only spied two living beings—a guard and a very cold-looking chicken that had strayed from its roost. The residents of Candlekeep certainly had a knack for keeping themselves hidden, she thought.

_Hidden. _She mulled the word over in her mind, chewing on it idly as a dog with yesterday's bone. There was much hidden in that place. Indeed, the entire monastery seemed designed to keep prying eyes away. Candlekeep held treasures whose worth couldn't be measured in gold alone, but even so the level of security and..._secrecy _that surrounded the place was puzzling. What _did_ the monks know? Suzy mentioned the truth, and as was all too frequent anymore it took someone else to point out the obvious.

Yet for all that, Anna could hardly storm in and demand the truth from Ulraunt any more than Finn could. But perhaps there was a slightly less daunting target than the Keeper of the Tomes. Xan—what had he been looking for in Finn's mind? Without pause Anna rose to her feet, determined to find out.

The others had taken up lodgings at the inn as well, the Harpers' connections no doubt helping to secure the rooms. But there was plenty of space and the inn felt strangely empty. By the sound of voices Anna could tell which rooms were the enchanter's, and she knocked crisply on the door.

Luedre answered the knock. She stood like a sentinel in the doorway, one arm stretched out in case Anna might falsely get the idea she was welcome.

"Yes?" the elven woman said.

"I want to talk with Xan," Anna replied.

She looked Luedre straight in the eye. Her lip twitched but she didn't blink. Anna braced herself for a standoff but a level voice came from within.

"It's all right, she may enter."

Luedre's mouth twitched again but she couldn't ignore the command. Anna brushed past her and into the room. The fire was up and the windows were securely closed for once. Xan sat in an armchair by the hearth, perusing a book. He glanced up at Anna but seemed to pay her as much heed as the maid, and his eyes drifted back to the pages.

"What is it that you wish to say?" Luedre asked.

"I'd rather say it to Xan alone," Anna said.

"I'm certain I would be trustworthy enough for your confidences," she replied.

_"Uuma dela," _Xan sighed. "It is all right. Perhaps you could wait in the library downstairs for a time? I believe I saw a volume of Celen Lakwena's poetry on the shelves, if you care for some light entertainment."

Luedre hardly seemed the sort to be entertained by the elven comedic playwright's sonnets, and by the look on her face she found the suggestion as strange as Anna did. But she took her leave and shut the door with rather more force than one might expect of the fair folk.

"What is the matter with her?" Anna muttered. "Every time I see her she acts as though I'm diseased."

"Which answer would you prefer?" Xan said over his book. "That she has sworn an oath on her own blood to protect me on my mission, or that her family were slaughtered by human raiders as they celebrated a feast?"

"I didn't know that," she replied quietly.

"No," Xan sighed. "I am surprised she joined the Greycloaks at all, considering how we failed to protect her. But that is not a tale that needs retelling."

"Even so, it doesn't justify the way she acts."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," he said.

Xan closed his book slowly and Anna thought a strange look passed over his face.

"What is it that you want?" he asked, seemingly remembering she had a purpose there.

"You saw something, didn't you?" she began.

"I have seen a great many things. Too many, in truth."

"Please don't start this again," she groaned. "The gypsy diviner act is better left for the circus. You know what I mean. You saw something in Finn's mind. No, you were _looking_ for something. I heard you and Luedre talking. What was it?"

Xan seemed surprised, either by her tone or the revelation. He drew in a deep breath and looked back to the fire.

"You have no siblings, am I correct?"

"That's right," Anna said, puzzled.

"Neither do I," the enchanter said, touching his long fingertips to his chin thoughtfully. "It can be something of a curse being an only child...all your parents' dreams and ambitions placed on your shoulders. I never felt myself worthy of my father's blade, but I had no choice but to try and claim it. Should I have refused it would have been a great shame on my family, ironically even more than if I'd tried and been roasted to cinders for the effort. No, it is a difficult thing."

Anna stared at Xan through his musings, wondering if his mind was yet fully healed.

"But what does that—"

"Still there are worse things," he interrupted. "A kinswoman of mine had the misfortune to discover that her father had something of an active youth, and upon his death a long-lost son arrived to claim what was his. In spite of blood ties there was little sympathy between them, and they spent a miserable century each attempting to sit out the other over claim of the family estate."

"That's tragic," Anna remarked. "But I still don't understand—"

"Yes, the relationship between siblings is a difficult one," Xan mused again.

Anna felt heat beginning to rise to her cheeks. She was certain the elf was merely leading her down another one of his winding roads, one where the destination was known only to him. She gritted her teeth and spoke.

"Quiet true. But what does this have to do with anything?"

"The point is," Xan said, looking up at her as though she were a rather thick schoolgirl, "that we do not always know whom our relations might be. One thinks their family is known. But family can be a fluid concept, especially in difficult situations."

Anna stared at him, and suddenly her mouth fell open.

"You don't mean to claim that Finn and I are siblings, do you?"

The idea was absurd, but a trip down Xan's garden path always tended to leave her confused. Much to her surprise the elf let out a short laugh.

_"No_, I do not. Do you think everything involves you? But I have looked at the problem from every possible angle, and it was the only direction left."

"What _problem?" _Anna demanded. "What did you see? And it does involve me if it involves my husband. Perhaps if you were married you might understand that."

Xan jerked and a scowl passed over his face.

"And one would think you might see more than the rest of us, then, being that Finn is your husband. But often those closest to a thing fail to see the truth of it."

Anna clenched her fists hard; as always the elf seemed a little too observant for her liking. She spoke slowly but there was heat in her words.

"Xan—so help me, if you don't come out with the truth I will beat it out of you. I have had enough of this dance! Tell me, once and for all what you saw."

"What I saw?" he said.

Anna expected more of a reaction from her angry words, but Xan's face merely softened into a strangely distant look.

"I saw you. You had a rose on your brow. A red rose. The thorns had cut, and you were bleeding."

"What?" Anna said, startled.

"You asked me what I saw," the elf replied.

"But I don't..." she stammered.

"Perhaps it was to match the marks on your palms," Xan said. "I heard there was a disturbance here last night. Is everything all right?"

Anna didn't think it was possible that her face could turn more red, but she felt the fat pour onto the fire and she could barely see. That Xan seemed to speak almost idly made it all the worse.

"You know everything. Why not tell me?" she spat.

"I do not know everything, child," he sighed. "Far from it."

The return of the hated epithet snapped the remaining thin thread of patience in Anna's being.

_"Child? Child?" _she exclaimed. "Damn you, elf! You will _not _speak to me this way, not now—"

But Xan again seemed to ignore her outburst, staring instead at the fire.

"Child..." he said softly. "Children."

It was all too much for Anna, and she stormed out of the room.

...

She marched back up the hall, digging her fingernails into her arms as she went. Anna's entire skin seemed to itch and burn. _Child? _Again with this. Xan was the one with a mind like a child these days, she scoffed. What madness was he on about? All that rambling about siblings...and what was that about a rose on her brow? She could hardly imagine the elf dreaming of her with pretty posies in her hair.

Anna reached her door and forced herself to breathe. What else could she expect making demands of him? Xan never had any respect for her, and now his mind had gone the way of the fairies. If Luedre was sworn to be his protector then the woman had her work cut out for her, Anna thought. Little wonder she always seemed so irritable.

Her hands were fumbling with the door ring when she heard Finn's stride coming up the stairs. Strangely Anna's first reaction was to sneak inside before he could see her. But she ran a hand over her frazzled hair and forced herself to look at her husband.

"Ey up," Finn said, giving her an odd look. "Everything all right?"

"Yes, fine," she said, and attempted a smile. "What about you?"

Finn's face had much that same expression as earlier, but she asked just the same.

"They've taken Gorion down into the crypts," he said. "I suppose considering how long he's been...a regular funeral wouldn't do. But they're going to have a service anyway."

"That's good. When will it be?"

"After the evening prayers. At about seven." Finn paused, then cleared his throat. "Do you...I mean, would you?"

"Go?" Anna asked. "Well, of course."

The idea of another visit to a vault didn't much appeal, but Anna could hardly miss her adoptive father-in-law's funeral. Finn though shook his head.

"No, I didn't mean that. I meant do you want to go up on the ramparts? There's something I want to show you."

"Yes...if you like. Let me get my cloak," she said.

Anna fetched her wraps and followed Finn out into the white world. They laughed together over some little thing but it had a strained feel. Although neither said it Anna could feel an invisible wedge between them. So much had happened over the past few days, even by their standards, that it was hard to laugh and pretend things were the same as usual. But Anna did her best to ignore that feeling, and Finn seemed to as well.

"What are we looking for?" she asked as he led her up the narrow, icy stone steps to the wall.

"Just up here. I'll show you."

Finn gave a nod to a passing sentry and led her into one of the small turrets that framed the corners of the keep. Inside he mounted a rather rickety ladder, and with an effort pushed open a trapdoor on the ceiling with a crackling of ice.

"Come on," he called, while running up the ladder.

Anna let out a silent groan but she followed him up. Near the top Finn took her hands and helped her climb through the snowy hatch onto the roof. A circle of stone kept them from a perilous fall, a fortunate thing on that icy day. Anna rubbed her numb hands together and stood near Finn as he leaned over the side.

"Well?" she asked.

"This is it," he replied, a bit apologetically. "Sorry you can't see more but the weather's rubbish today."

At his words Anna looked around as if a veil had been lifted. All of Candlekeep, the Sea of Swords, and the dense forest that surrounded them were open to her view. The monastery courtyard with its dead knotwork gardens looked small from their vantage point, although the huge central tower still dominated the scene. Off into the distance the churning sea threw up whitecaps, a seemingly angry gesture to the threatening grey sky above. And as far as she could see in any other direction the shapes of white-cloaked trees stretched out till they melded with the clouds.

"If it wasn't for this mist we could see the Cloudpeaks," Finn said. "And on a good day you can even make out the Cloakwood Hills."

He spoke with a kind of eagerness that brought a smile to her face. The cold wind stung her eyes though and the vision blurred through her tears.

"Nice view, but it's not worth crying over," Finn joked.

"I'm not crying," Anna laughed. "Not this time, at least."

"Yeah. Sorry about that," he said.

"About what?"

"Just...sorry."

There didn't seem to be much else to say. Finn leaned up against the cold stone, his eyes gazing out to sea. Anna cleared her throat.

"Finn, did you...?"

"What?" he asked, turning around.

"Nothing," she replied. "Nothing."

Anna herself wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to ask, what she wanted to say. The words seemed driven away by the cold sea wind.

"I used to come here on my off hours," Finn said. "I always loved looking out at the world. It's beautiful, isn't it? Looking at it you'd never guess it was so filled with bastards."

Anna laughed again. "No. One of Chauntea's gifts, I suppose."

"I used to imagine bringing you here as well. After we met, I mean. I don't know why," he added.

"Why would you say that?" she asked.

"Well, it's not such a big deal, is it? You've seen plenty of trees."

"You mean, I wouldn't see what you do."

Anna stood next to him and he wrapped her in his cloak. The warmth was welcome and she snuggled closer to him.

"Something like that," Finn said. "It does kind of feel like this was my spot. The regular watch never bothered coming up here, and even Imoen used to leave me alone. I don't think she likes heights! But yeah... It was mine."

"I'm glad you wanted to show it to me, then," Anna said.

"I'd give it to you if I could."

Finn's expression fell again and she didn't reply. Somehow she wondered if that were truly within his power, to give such a part of himself. Since arriving at Candlekeep she had seen another side of him, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"But anyway...I'm freezing my arse off here, and you must be as well," he said, breaking from his reverie. "What say we head back to the inn and see what Winthrop's got hidden behind the bar?"

"No, I... I think I'll just go back to my room. I could stand to have a rest before...everything," she fumbled.

Finn didn't reply and helped her climb back through the hatch in silence. Although they walked hand in hand back towards the inn Anna still felt that strange distance between them, and she didn't much care for it.

...

They stomped their snowy boots off in the entryway in an attempt to spare the fine rugs from slush. Anna was about to make for the stairs when she heard an emotional voice coming from the small library. The Elvish caught her attention, and she and Finn went and peered around the door.

_"They cannot tell me no, these men. Do they have no idea who Lord Xan is? I will not tolerate this—"_

_"Calm yourself, Luedre," _Kivan replied. _"I'm certain there is nothing to fear."_

By the look on his face the ranger thought otherwise, although with Kivan it was ever difficult to tell exactly what he did think. He fingered one of his dark braids, counting out the plaits methodically as he stared into the fire. The light caught on the pale of the wolf's teeth he'd wound in with the braid and made them shimmer. Luedre paced the floor in a surprising fit of agitation.

"What's happened?" Finn asked, daring to penetrate their sanctum.

"What has happened is that Lord Xan has retreated to the fortress, yet these monks say I cannot follow him!" Luedre hissed. "It is unbearable that—"

"They let Xan into the library?" Finn interrupted. "That's a surprise. Did he have some tome of value with him?"

"No. One of their number arrived with a message, saying that the high Keeper Ulraunt had invited him to peruse the library. He said they were honoured to have such a guest as a Greycloak and a wielder of a Moonblade. Yet the invitation was strictly for Lord Xan only," she said.

"Honoured? That doesn't sound much like Ulraunt," Finn remarked. "If Oghma himself appeared he'd probably just tell him to make sure he wiped his feet. Ulraunt isn't _honoured_ by anyone."

"Yes, I told you it was strange!" Luedre said to Kivan.

The ranger scowled. "Yet we are not Xan's nursemaids. If he chose to visit this library, then we could do little to stop him."

"Perhaps _you_ are not obliged. Although I might expect little else from one of the wild folk," she shot back.

That remark did get Kivan's attention. Anna saw a flash of fire appear in his eyes, but his face only went even more stone-like and he didn't reply.

"Yeah, well—Kivan's right, it's nothing to worry about," Finn said quickly, perhaps hoping to cut the tension. "It's just a bloody library, nothing ever happens in there. And Xan's a big boy, most likely—he can take care of himself. He'll be back soon enough."

Luedre tossed her head. "Then I shall wait at the entrance until he does return. Perhaps I can _persuade_ the guards to see sense in the meantime."

She grasped the bright metal of the sword on her hip and departed angrily. Finn's eyebrow raised watching her go.

"She's not off to start a fight, is she?"

"No, _mellonamin," _Kivan sighed. "She simply feels as though she has lost her place. Little is more frustrating to a guardian than when those you are protecting refuse to be guarded."

"I reckon," Finn sighed in return. "But I don't know if Xan was going to come to Gorion's funeral, then. He probably forgot all about it, knowing him."

"I am not sure what that remarked was intended to mean, but I doubt he has forgotten," Kivan said. "More than likely he did not plan on attending. I cannot speak for all my kin, but among my people only those of close kinship join a burial rite. It is a most intimate moment guiding the journey of a loved one to paradise. To presume an invitation would be rude."

"You mean you're not coming, either?" Finn asked, surprised.

"I had not planned to do so," he replied. "I did not even know Gorion in life, let alone share a kinship with him."

"Well, you're welcome to come. If you want. The more the merrier, eh? Let's have a fecking party!" Finn exclaimed.

Kivan and Anna both looked on in surprise as he stormed out of the room like a child.

"Have I offended him?" Kivan asked. "I know nothing of human burial customs, but I would never disrespect his father. I will gladly attend if it is appropriate."

"It's alright. I'm sure he knows that," Anna sighed. "But all of this has put Finn a little on edge. Maybe it would be better if it were just those Gorion knew—although that would rule me out, as well."

In some ways she wished it would. Anna said farewell to Kivan and retreated at last to her room.

...

The grey daylight faded early at that time of year and it was dark well before the evening prayers. Anna joined Finn and Imoen for an early supper in the kitchen. It was mostly a silent affair, and Finn touched next to nothing of the impressive spread that Imoen had laid on for just the three of them. She seemed to have Maya's gift of compensating for tension with food, Anna thought.

Khalid and Jaheira had already gone on to the temple, and Xan was apparently still buried within the library. In spite of her threats Luedre had swept back to the inn not long after she left, setting the hallway ringing with the rain-like sound of her elven armour.

"We should get going," Finn said, regarding a half-eaten leg of cold chicken with a sombre eye.

"Right," Imoen replied. "I should clear some of this out of the way...but hopefully Winthrop will understand. I'm surprised he doesn't want to go to Gorion's funeral—they always seemed like friends. Let me just wash up, okay?"

The girl wore the pretty blue dress that she'd bought in Beregost so long ago, but her poor shaved head was still done up in a scullery maid's rough kerchief. Even if her hair was cut short Anna thought it strange that she didn't trade it for a cap or a bonnet, considering the occasion. Imoen almost seemed to read her thoughts for she hesitantly asked Anna to follow her to her chamber.

"I didn't want Finn to get a sight of this," Imoen replied once they were in her tiny room. "I'd really hoped maybe you could help me out."

Before Anna could wonder she pulled the kerchief from her head, and the mage's mouth fell open.

"Imoen—your hair is _pink!"_

What remained of her auburn curls was now the colour of bright tea roses. Not merely tinted either, but solidly pink. Imoen's face turned a colour to match.

"I know, I know! I got so fed up with having my hair short I thought I'd try a spell to make it grow. Vera keeps an old hedgewitch's recipe book in the kitchen with remedies for all sorts of things. I thought it seemed easy enough—rosehips, whiskey and three hairs of a horse's tail. The incantation was supposed to be done at midnight, but I may have been a teensy bit off. My hair hasn't grown an inch, and now it's—_oh_, thank you very much!"

Imoen broke off as Anna promptly burst into a fit of belly-shaking laughter. She wiped her eyes and tried to clear her throat.

"I'm sorry," Anna coughed. "You need to be careful with these backwoods arcane tomes...but I'm sure you know that. I think I could come up with a potion of reversal, but I don't have the time just now."

The statement brought back their troubles and made the humour of the sight fade. Imoen scowled and stuck the kerchief back on.

"Well, don't do me any favours. Just don't tell Finn, alright? I'll never hear the end of it. Come on, we should get going."

Anna tried to give Imoen an apologetic smile but the girl wasn't having any of it. For whatever it was worth she actually looked rather cute in pink curls, well-suited to the pixie she was. But she didn't think Imoen would appreciate the thought so she kept it to herself.

...

They met with Finn and the three of them ventured out into the cold evening air. The threatened snow still held off but Anna could almost feel the weight of the clouds overhead. The doors to the Temple of Oghma were propped open and the light of candles spilled out onto the snow. Khalid and Jaheira were waiting for them at the entrance.

"And so here we are," Jaheira said.

That was all she said, but it seemed to suffice. At last Anna saw bodies in the desks as the monks had gathered for their evening devotions. They were mostly greybeards, but she saw a few younger faces amongst their number as well. Parda noticed them and gave a polite nod but didn't attempt conversation.

As they took their seats Anna heard a shuffling at the entrance. She turned to see Ulraunt, still dressed in those billowy black robes as he lumbered his large frame up the centre aisle. Close at his heels was the monk Tethtoril, walking silent and prim as a servant. The pair sat in the front row and a bell rang out to start the service.

Anna tried to listen to the ancient monk as he quoted words of wisdom from the great tome on the dais, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Oghma was meant to be the knower of all things, and she wondered what secrets the Binder kept to himself. Her eyes kept focusing more on Ulraunt than on the priest. His shaggy grey head nodded to the rhythm of the reader's oration like a minstrel keeping time at a dance. He also had his secrets.

For some reason Anna glanced over her shoulder. The monks all sat near to the dais, still leaving several rows of empty desks in the good-sized temple. But one monk sat alone in the last row. With the shadows and the man's cowl she could make nothing of his face, but she could feel his eyes on her. Anna felt rebuked for ignoring the sermon and faced forward again.

Whether the service was long or short Anna couldn't really say. There was no mention of Gorion and she found that strange. At the final bell the monks rose up as one and filed out of the temple in silence. Anna looked for the man in the back row but he was already gone.

"We should meet with Ulraunt. He'll take us down to the crypts," Finn said in a low voice.

But the Keeper was already making his way towards them down the aisle, still shadowed by Tethtoril.

"Good evening, good evening," Ulraunt breathed. "Or not such a good evening, if you prefer. A grim business is at hand. Have you told the guards to unlock the crypt, my boy?"

He spoke not to Finn, but to the middle-aged monk behind him.

"Yes, master," Tethtoril replied. "I have instructed them to light the torches at the entrance to the vault, as well."

"Good. Then let's see this business done with, shall we? Old Gorion's ghost has been walking for far too long."

They all followed behind Ulraunt as he made his way out into the night. He gestured and the guards at the tower entrance swung the gate open as if commanded by a spell. Ulraunt lumbered past them and into the great hall. He went over to a side door and grunted as he wrestled with the stiff iron ring, but the door yielded at last to reveal a narrow passageway. They followed it down until it ended in another door with torches lit on either side.

"Now then," Ulraunt said. "I trust none of you have any relict hunting in mind? Mind your step about you."

He gestured again and Tethtoril took one of the torches down from its sconce. Finn took the other and Ulraunt forced open the door with a painful creak of stiff hinges. Anna caught a whiff of that stale air of a crypt and shuddered, but she followed them down the stair into a vault black as night.

...

A thick dust of ages lay on the floor, and the marks of feet were imprinted into it like the snow in the courtyard. The monks must have disturbed it when they took Gorion's body down below. Dark chambers lay off to either side, and through the flickering light Anna could see stone coffins topped with the effigies of those who once walked the earth, now sleeping forever within the vaults. The great prophet Alaundo must be entombed in one, she thought, but they were not there to seek him.

Ulraunt pushed onwards leading them deeper into the vaults. The ancient place had more of a maze-like quality than the crypt beneath the Temple of Helm in the city, and she hoped the Keeper's flawless memory could recall the way out again. The dust on the floor muffled their footsteps and the place seemed entirely still. But before long Anna could make out the light of torches in the room ahead. At last they must have reached their destination.

"Here," Ulraunt said.

He paused before a stone crypt. Unlike the others in that place it bore no effigy or epitaph, no markings at all on the cold grey rock. The dust on the lid had been disturbed but not cleared away.

"That's it?" Finn said.

"Yes, boy," Ulraunt replied. "A fitting monument to vanity."

"Gorion was hardly vain," Jaheira remarked. "He wore the same robes for years on end."

She gave Ulraunt one of her eagle looks but he ignored her.

"I wasn't speaking of a peacock," the Keeper replied. "But he was still vain. He chased his folly, and this was his reward. Nothing."

Anna stared at him. He caressed the vault with a large hand, shaking his head slowly. Considering the circumstances the remark was in poor taste, to say the least.

"Go to the hells," Finn burst out. "I know you two didn't get along, but—"

"I was only speaking the truth. If that offends you it's not my concern," he said.

"You have a s-strange definition of t-truth," Khalid said. "Gorion was n-not a fool. And I don't understand—"

"No, you don't, do you?" Ulraunt said. "You Harpers are all fools together. You dance to whatever music is played for you, chasing the tune but never paying any mind to the piper. Perhaps it is fitting then to end this all here."

A chill ran down Anna's spine. Something about Ulraunt wasn't right. His voice was wrong, like an actor suddenly dropping his part. Tethtoril didn't seem to notice and kept looking at him as blandly as he had been.

"End _what _exactly?" Jaheira said.

Her eyes narrowed and her hand slid slowly towards the mace that hung at her belt. Khalid stepped back from the monks so deliberately he hardly seemed to move at all. Finn though still had a look of bewildered anger on his face.

"You've got one hell of an idea of a funeral, Ulraunt."

"You don't approve?" the Keeper replied, sounding more like his usual self. "But everyone is here. See—they have all gathered to pay their last respects."

A cry caught in Anna's throat—the shadows had come to life. Figures emerged from the darkness and approached silently as thieves. Imoen broke her silence and cried out to one them.

"Winthrop? Were you there all the time?" she said. "You just scared the life out of me!"

But Winthrop didn't answer, instead staring at her with a strange, almost feral grin. It made the man look demented and Anna had to look away.

There were others with the innkeeper—along with his wife Vera, there were a number of monks and guards. Anna didn't recognise them but Finn seemed to know them all.

"Phlydia? Fuller? I don't...what the hells is going on?" he exclaimed.

"A funeral, whelp," Ulraunt replied. "Simply not for whom you thought."

Anna screamed. At another time she might have felt foolish, but then she couldn't help it. Before her eyes Ulraunt melted, the reddened jowls replaced by smooth, emaciated grey skin. The doppelganger stayed in that form for but a moment before seizing upon his new one. Finn gnashed his teeth and drew his sword as he stood face-to-face with his exact likeness.


	104. The Game

_Look what the cat dragged in! Sorry for the long break between updates. Time does get to flying by! I've been tinkering on this one for a while but it's getting rather long so I decided to publish. It's really a two-parter, and I hope the second half won't be too long in coming._

...

"Just when I thought I couldn't like you any less," Finn growled.

"Are you speaking to Ulraunt, or yourself?" his duplicate asked.

The jest seemed lost on Finn and he braced himself to attack. Just before he could move Jaheira grabbed his arm.

_"Wait!" _she said. "We must know. How did you deceive us so thoroughly? We had no idea your kind had infiltrated Candlekeep."

The doppelganger Finn smiled, then shifted back to Ulraunt.

"Divide and conquer, as always," he said. "Humans are always blind, always failing to see the strangers in their midst."

Anna stepped closer to Finn as the doppelganger citizens of Candlekeep circled them. How many were there? Near to a dozen by her hasty count. She recalled Duke Silvershield saying that doppelgangers were solitary creatures. It would seem they had learned new ways.

"But why here?" Jaheira continued, remarkably calmly considering the circumstances. "Is it knowledge that you seek?"

"Knowledge has its worth. So many stories here of your civilisations," Ulraunt hissed. "But, no. We came because we were bidden. Our _master _directed us here."

He spoke the word 'master' with emphasis, either contempt or fear displayed in his little smile. Finn asked the obvious question.

"Your master, then. Who's he?"

"Anchev," Jaheira said solemnly. "Sarevok Anchev."

The doppelganger Ulraunt's smile grew wider but he didn't answer her claims.

"Enough talk. All it is for you to know is that you will die this night. Such beasts deserve no explanations."

"Don't think so," Finn replied, tightening his grip on his sword. "And I for one don't really give a damn _what_ you're doing here. But your filthy hands touched Gorion, and I'll kill you for that alone!"

Fragments of thoughts whirled through Anna's head. The doppelgangers had them outnumbered two to one, but her comrades were armed and she had her spells. They'd fought the doppelgangers before and they knew their limitations. Or so she thought.

One doppelganger, in the guise of an elderly female monk began chanting in a voice that seemed to make the stone walls tremble. The monk quickly cast her spell and the torches were snuffed out.

_"Help!" _Imoen cried. Her voice was panicked and Anna felt the same. She jostled into her and both women jumped. Jaheira shouted something Anna didn't hear. She was blind, in front of her a solid wall of black. Noises and cries bounced off the walls confusing what little sense of balance and direction she could maintain. They stood no chance in that darkness.

Somehow the words came to Anna's lips for that spell of infravision she always kept memorised after her nightmare in the cave. The words she spoke had no translation but she felt their meaning in her heart. _Darkness part, light of life appear... _A flash of light came to her eyes and she could see once more, but the images were distorted as a dream.

The stone walls glowed in a colour like moonlight but the shapes of those around her were hot as flames. Their features were vague and undefined, eyes and nose and mouth blurred together in the heat. Only their outlines were precise against the cold walls.

Finn still stood next to her, not daring to move lest he strike one of their band. His sword was poised and he shouted into the darkness, daring it to attack. Imoen's hands were wrapped in a spell but Anna had no way of knowing if she could see or not. Khalid and Jaheira could though and she tried to follow their lead.

_"There!" _the druid cried. "Do not let them escape!"

Something was wrong. The doppelgangers weren't attacking. One by one they melted back into the moonlit walls, their forms fading in Anna's enchanted sight like dying embers on a hearth. She watched as they retreated back into the passageways without so much as a word.

"What's going on?" Finn exclaimed. "What the hells are they doing?"

"G-gone," Khalid replied, lowering his sword. "Why? They had us surrounded."

"Are they really gone?" Imoen said, her shaking voice sounding relieved.

"They are. But why?" Anna repeated.

All around them was silence, the stillness total as the darkness had been. It made no sense but Anna wasn't about to complain.

"Maybe they just weren't up to a fight," Finn said, but even he didn't sound convinced. "Never mind. If they're gone then let's get the hells out of here. _Ow, bastard!"_

He swore at himself as he tripped over his own feet in the dark. Anna reached out to steady him and he clung to her tight.

"Yes, that would be wise. Silvanus only knows what evil they have planned. Anna, can you see? How long will your spell last?" Jaheira asked.

"Not long. A quarter hour at most," she replied.

"Hopefully that should be long enough for us to find the surface. Walk with Finn and Imoen. Khalid and I shall guard the fore and rear."

Anna obeyed without hesitation. She locked arms with the siblings then followed along behind Khalid as he cautiously made his way back through the vaults, sword in hand. Jaheira stayed in the rear, her feet silent as she walked almost in reverse.

"This d-dust makes a trail, fortunately," Khalid said low. "I only hope—"

"What?" Imoen whispered.

"Nothing. We should b-be quiet now."

Anna didn't know exactly what he was thinking, but she had fears of her own. They went fast as they could without breaking into a run as Khalid navigated by the footprints in the dust. But nothing challenged them, and after what seemed an age they found the stairway to the library.

...

A single torch was lit at the entrance and it dazzled Anna's confused eyes. The great iron door was shut tight. Khalid grasped the ring, but it wouldn't turn. He threw all his weight against the frame but the door still didn't budge.

"Locked," he muttered.

"Here, let me," Anna said.

She stepped up to the lock and cast her spell, but that familiar _thunk _of the bolt falling open didn't sound. She tried the handle again just to be sure, but it was still fastened tight.

"Someone has wizard-locked this door. I can feel it...the heat of the runes. Why would they do that?" she asked in desperation.

_Why? _Because they knew she could open the door. Ulraunt even knew her family had a mill back in the Dales—of course he knew she was a mage. They knew all their abilities.

"Can you not open it?" Jaheira said.

"I don't think so," she replied, running a hand over the cold iron frame. "Someone has warded this strongly. Maybe if I had time I could come up with a cancelling charm, but..."

"But I doubt we will be afforded that luxury," Jaheira sighed. "It seems their intent was to trap us in here, but for what purpose is secondary. Now we must find another way out."

"There's no other way out of here," Finn said. "Maybe if we make enough racket then someone will hear."

His fists hit the door hard, sending out a deep noise that echoed like a funeral drum before giving way to silence.

"Do not waste your effort. For all we know the entire keep has been compromised," Jaheira told him. "We may have no allies left to hear."

"But what about Xan and Kivan? They're still out there. Maybe they're even looking for us," Imoen said.

Anna felt a chill run down her spine. Xan's invitation to the library—Luedre had been right to fear. The elves were now in just as much danger as they were, and they might not even know of the threat.

"We must t-trust that they will be on guard," Khalid replied. "But you are wrong, Finn—th-there is another exit to this place."

"How do you know that?" he asked, slowly lowering his fists from the door.

"Gorion," Jaheira said. "He was Loremaster here, of course. He knew more of Candlekeep's secrets that perhaps even Ulraunt himself. He shared these things with us sometimes, in the few chances we had to meet after he took up the life of a monk. Unfortunately...he was not always specific in his tales."

"He never bothered to tell me," Finn grumbled. "And these catacombs must stretch forever under this place. I know that much—they're massive. How would we even know where to start?"

Imoen had been biting on her fingernails, but suddenly she spoke.

"I know! It's Alaundo's passage."

"Alaundo's passage?" Jaheira repeated.

"Gorion was Loremaster, but Winthrop heard all the gossip. Everyone talked to him. I heard him talking to Tethtoril one time after an old monk's funeral. Do you remember Gersus, Finn? He worked in the apothecary, and he must have been about a hundred years old. Took all the labels off the jars as he couldn't read them anyway. Drove his assistant mad!"

Finn nodded in vague recollection, but Jaheira looked annoyed.

"The point, child?"

"The _point _is he mentioned something about a hidden passage in the catacombs!" Imoen declared. "Something about Alaundo's tomb. It comes out in the library. It was a tribute to him, see? That his spirit could always walk the halls."

"I never heard that. Where does it come out?" he said.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I tried looking for it myself, back when they used to let me in the library. The keep is ancient, though. Could be anywhere."

"Or it could merely be an apocryphal legend," Jaheira sighed. "But we have little else to go on. Do we know where Alaundo rests?"

"In the oldest part, furthest back in. I've never seen it but Gorion mentioned it a few times. He lived here when this was still a military fortress," Finn said.

"Then that is where we shall go," Jaheira said.

...

She plucked the torch from its sconce and turned back down the stairs. Anna let out a weak little noise that vanished into the stale air. Trapped like rats in a tomb. Was this really Sarevok Anchev's doing? How could he even have expected them to come here? He had truly exceeded his role as grandmaster this time. Or did he have a large enough army of doppelgangers and assassins to allow him to spread his reach far and wide? The thought didn't bear dwelling on.

Finn had the most experience with the catacombs, having escorted the bodies of monks down there on several occasions. Reluctantly he took the torch from Jaheira and set off in the lead. There was still no sign of their pursuers which brought a clammy sweat of fear onto Anna's skin. Dreading the inevitable ambush was worse than a fight. Her spell faded and she was left to rely on the flickering torchlight alone.

"Where are they?" Imoen asked. It wasn't a question Anna wanted to answer. Jaheira slowly shook her head.

"This makes little sense. I can only assume we will be greater sport this way."

"What, you think...they're hunting?" Anna whispered.

"They have c-conquered the keep, their game is at an end," Khalid said. "Perhaps w-we are the only entertainment left."

"Let's be sure to put on a good show, then," Finn said grimly. "Hold up. Look."

He pointed to the tracks in the dust. Three trails went off at a junction of passageways, each heading in a different direction.

"At least they've split up," he remarked.

"Yes, that may be to our advantage," Jaheira said. "But be wary. Stay close as possible to one another, no matter what. These fiends could disguise themselves as any one of us in a heartbeat."

Anna thought of Ulraunt taking Finn's face and she shivered. In spite of her fear though a different emotion emerged—anger. Who were these monsters who stole lives for their own gain? To kill a man was wicked, but to take over his face, his home, his very life—it was a perversion. She wondered how often Mistress Jhasso had innocently lain next to a man who had the face of her husband, but the soul of a demon inside.

"Well, let's head straight on. Alaundo's tomb must be this way," Finn said.

They followed him in single file down the narrow passageway. A sudden memory flashed into Anna's mind—exploring the Nashkel mines, so long ago. It was just the five of them then, too. They were all strangers to her then, but now they were friends.

It was a strange kind of friendship though—it had been forged in steel, subjected to more trials by ordeal than most would see in a lifetime. Would she look upon harsh Jaheira or shy, stuttering Khalid as friends given another time and place? Probably not, Anna had to admit. But the bond was no less strong because of it.

And what of Finn and Imoen? More than friends, they were her family now. Imoen, her sister and conspirator. And Finn—her husband, her lover, her soul-mate. Anna watched him walking ahead, his eyes keen and his expression grim. In the wavering torchlight he looked older than his years.

She saw much more in him now than she did then. Where was once just a brash young lad with an attractive smile was now a man, serious, brave, and committed to those he loved. Yes, there was so much more to him now. But at times she saw too much. It was at those times Anna felt that she'd married a stranger, a man she knew nothing about. And it was at those times her heart began to sink like the sun towards the horizon.

...

"Hold on," Finn whispered, suddenly drawing to a halt. "Do you hear something?"

They all paused and Anna strained to hear over the silence that reverberated in her ears. But she did hear something—a stirring and scratching on stone, a muffled cry.

"It's coming from down there," Finn said. He pointed the torch down a side passage but nothing could be seen.

"Take care," Jaheira said.

Finn tightened his grip on the sword and stepped into the passage. The torchlight flickered against the stone effigies making them tremble like frightened men. But something was alive there, a figure huddled on the floor. Anna's heart pounded as a pallid face looked up to them.

_"Suzy_, _what_—what in the hells are you doing here?" Finn exclaimed.

He dashed towards her but Khalid seized his arm.

"N-no. Be wary!" he said.

Finn's feet paused but the rest of him kept going, forcing him to check his balance lest he topple over.

"You're right. It can't be her, can it? She couldn't be here," he breathed.

"No...she was here. I met her in the temple earlier. She said the monks invited her after the assassins struck. It might actually be her," Anna said reluctantly.

Suzy, or whoever she was kept straining at her gag and struggling against her binds. She lay curled up on her side on the cold stone, staring up at them with wide eyes. Finn handed the torch to Khalid and went cautiously up to her.

"Finn—" Jaheira began.

"If it is her we can't leave her lying on this floor," he replied. "Don't make any sudden moves, alright?"

He helped her into a sitting position and removed her gag, but Suzy refused to obey the command.

_"Bastard!"_ she shouted, sending the curse barrelling through the passages behind them. "What were you waiting for? Get me out of here! Where...where are they? Where did they go?"

_"Shh!" _Finn hissed back. "Can't you ever hold your tongue? Theymight find us at any moment. How did you get here?"

"The monks...they came for me in my room," Suzy replied. "They told me it wasn't safe and I needed to follow them. I did...but then they grabbed me and bound my hands! They dragged me down to the crypt. I thought...I thought they were going to kill me! But then they just left me here...alone, in the dark."

She let out a choking sob and Anna felt alarmed, for one moment forgetting about the doppelganger threat. If Suzy was real then she was in no condition for such strain. But how to tell? Now she knew why the monsters had called Xan away—they must have known he could sense them.

"Alright, alright," Finn said, trying to sound soothing. "Look, just—I'll free you, but mind yourself. No sudden moves."

"What the hells are you on about?" she repeated. "You think I've got a dagger hidden for you or what? I hardly think I'm a threat to the lot of you."

"Those monks you encountered were in fact shape shifters, dangerous monsters," Jaheira said sternly. "They are responsible for our imprisonment here, and we have every reason to suspect you may be one of their number. If you are wise you will do as Finn says."

That must be the first time the druid had ever spoken those words, Anna thought. Suzy's mouth clamped shut and she held still while Finn cut loose her bonds. Anna studied her face keenly as she could in the torchlight. In spite of her bluster she looked pale and frightened, and her cheeks were wet with tears. Their previous encounters with doppelgangers had shown they weren't much for registering subtle emotions. Perhaps it truly was her.

"I should have known," Suzy said, trying in vain to shake loose the dust from her dress. "I couldn't believe that master would give a damn about me. But what do they want? Were they the ones trying to kill Finn?"

"All part of the same merry band, I'm sure," Finn replied. "Are you all right?"

His voice registered concern and he touched her lightly on the arm. In spite of everything Anna's stomach couldn't help but wobble at the gesture. Suzy though tossed her head.

"I'm right as rain, don't you worry. Just get me out of here."

"We're working on that. Just stick close," Finn said.

Jaheira ushered the maid into the middle of the line between Khalid and Anna. Real or no her presence turned Anna's insides into an even tighter knot. Why _her? _Of all the denizens of Candlekeep, why the woman Finn carelessly got with child? Although that very thought seemed to answer her question. If anyone there could manipulate Finn, it would be her.

...

"What are they _doing?" _Imoen whispered as they walked along. "I mean, I thought they'd attack by now. Have they just left us in here?"

A valid question, one Anna had been thinking herself. The numerous side passages left plenty of opportunities for ambush, yet they must have been wandering in that place for the better part of an hour without attack. Yet who could truly say how much time had passed underground? There was no time there but eternity.

"Search me, flower. Let's just keep our eyes open for the door," Finn replied.

"There is something..." Jaheira said, suddenly pausing in the passage. "No... The air is different."

"What d-do you sense?" Khalid asked.

Jaheira had a closeness to nature that far surpassed Anna's own, and she often noted changes in the weather before they occurred. But the air in the crypt was stifled and dead.

"No, it's—do you feel that? _Watch out!"_

They needed no bond with nature to feel the walls start to tremble. Anna glanced up just in time to see a motionless stone face toppling towards her as a great statue keeled forwards. She shouted, somehow managing to drag the frozen Suzy out of its path. But she paid for her kind deed as in her distraction she failed to notice another statue behind her was also falling. It cuffed her on the head and Anna crumpled to the floor in a haze of pain.

_"Dammit, dammit, where are they?" _Finn shouted into the dust.

Anna groaned and looked up. The torch was on the floor, sending its feeble light flickering through the ruins of the statues. But the trap had been sprung; the statues neatly blocked off the passage, and the voices on the other side told that they hadn't all made it through.

"Silvanus, call out your huntsmen!" Jaheira spat. The druid was on her knees, peering through at them. "Are you hurt?"

"We're fine, I think," Finn replied.

Anna nodded weakly—in spite of a splitting headache she knew she'd be all right. Suzy's mouth hung open but she didn't seem hurt.

"We've got to move these things!" Imoen cried from the other side.

"No chance," Finn said, examining the damage. "They've set us up pretty damn well here."

"He is r-right, they are too heavy to m-move. Blast them to the Hells!"

Anna didn't think she'd ever heard Khalid swear, and it seemed to drive the point home all the more. The doppelgangers had succeeded in splitting them up without even showing their faces.

"What now?" Finn said. He grunted against one of the statues. It creaked a little with the grinding of stone but Jaheira told him to stop.

"Don't—if you bring that down onto your leg we will be trapped indeed. We shall just...carry on. Finn, you and Anna see if you can find this exit. If it exists at all," she muttered. "In the meantime we shall make our way back towards the door. Perhaps we might yet have some luck there."

"Or get ambushed by the doppelgangers," Finn said.

"Don't say that!" Imoen cried. "Finn, don't go. I don't want to be here in the dark!"

The torch had fallen on their side, and poor Imoen would have no light. Jaheira and Khalid could guide her but that would be little comfort.

"Don't worry, okay?" Finn said. He reached through a crack to try and touch Imoen's fingers. "Why are you acting like a little girl all of a sudden? I thought you were a big adventurer, hey? And what's a tomb filled with shapeshifters, anyway. We've dealt with more than that before breakfast!"

"You're just a bastard," Imoen laughed, but her voice was shaking.

"Aye," he replied. "But if we're going we'd better get on. This torch won't last forever."

Anna hadn't thought of that. It sputtered and fluttered in Suzy's hand where the maid had picked it up. She locked eyes with Anna, but she rubbed her big belly and said nothing.

"Yes...take care," was all Jaheira said.

Finn helped Anna to her feet and the three of them set off. Anna felt worse than she realised and her feet stepped somewhat drunkenly in spite of her efforts. But there was nothing to do but go on.

"It can't be far now," Finn said. "We're in the older part of the catacombs. Let's just hope that... Well, let's just hope, aye?"

"Say what you think," Suzy remarked. "Those...things, they're down here, aren't they? What do they want?"

"Apart from our skin, you mean?" he said.

"Aye, I do mean!" the maid replied, rather loudly. "Monsters or no, they can't have this much time on their hands. Why not just kill us all in our beds? Save a whole lot of trouble."

"Why? Bloody ask Anchev why," Finn shot back. "I gave up asking that question a long time ago."

"Who's Anchev?" Suzy asked.

"Sarevok Anchev," Anna broke in. "A merchant in Baldur's Gate, and now one of the Grand Dukes. He seems to have been playing his hand against us from the start."

"Right. And what did you do to him, then?"

"Not one bloody thing," Finn said. "Not one bloody thing. He came after _me."_

"Somehow I don't believe it. Dad was right—you never should have come back here," Suzy continued. "You only ever make trouble."

"I'd never have set one foot near the place if Imoen hadn't been here," he assured her. "We needed to get her before we set off."

"And where were you going, eh? How far could you run to forget the truth? You knew what you were leaving behind. I'm not thick, Finn, and neither are you. You knew."

Finn didn't respond to her accusations. He kept his eyes ahead, and only the faint stiffening of his shoulders showed any reaction. Anna's stomach turned again and she stumbled into a wall. The pair walking in front of her didn't notice though and she righted herself and kept moving.

...

"I think this might be coming out somewhere," Finn said at last.

The narrow passageway widened to reveal a large chamber. In the centre lay a stone coffin upon a dais, its height the only thing to set it apart from any other in the place. Time hadn't worn well on the tomb for she noticed a large crack in its side. No effigy marked its surface, but as they drew closer Anna could make out engraved writing.

_"Seer in stone forever entombed, the dust of the past lies with him. No chisel can strike out the words he hath wrote, the dust of the future unbidden."_

"What's that supposed to mean?" Suzy asked.

"Some rambling about the nature of prophecy, I reckon," Finn said. "Damn. Is this actually Alaundo's tomb?"

He seemed to be regarding the coffin almost in awe, something which surprised Anna.

"Do you admire him?" she asked.

"Admire? Don't know about that. But you can't live here without living under Alaundo's shadow. Didn't you hear the monks chanting his prophecies? They do that all day and all night, they never stop. I used to hear them in my sleep."

"Sounds grim," Anna remarked. "But if this is Alaundo, then where is this supposed exit?"

"Only one place it could be," he said.

He nodded towards the tomb and Suzy shuddered.

"What, you're not... You're not going to open it up, are you? It's not in _there, _is it?"

Anna bit her lip. The idea of desecrating a tomb didn't exactly appeal to her either, especially not one belonging to the most illustrious resident the Sword Coast had ever known. Finn tried to shrug it off.

"Oh, get over it. Alaundo is a sack of bones. He's not going to hurt you, see?"

To demonstrate he banged his fist hard against the tomb. And although she felt too dizzy to be sure, Anna was certain their hearts stopped in unison when an answering _thum _came from within the coffin.

_"What the_ _fecking...hells...!" _Finn cried, jumping back from the tomb.

He stumbled and nearly dropped the torch. Suzy screeched and Anna tried to catch her breath as a series of sharp bangs and muffled cries issued from inside.

"Tyr preserve us! He's alive!" Suzy cried out.

Anna had faced many trials of late, but battling the undead Seer of the Sword Coast was not one she had ever expected. But listening to the muffled ranting she began to feel it wasn't Alaundo who was calling out to them from beyond the grave.

_"Oghma's bane, who in the hells is out there now? Demon monsters, lock me away, will you? Give me my staff and I'll take on the lot of you!"_

"Feck no, it can't be," Finn muttered.

"Who?" Anna gasped.

"Just help me shift this thing!" he shouted back.

She loaned what little strength she had in helping Finn move the heavy stone cover off the tomb. It slid slowly, then hammered the floor with a thunderous noise. A man's head rose up from the sarcophagus, and Anna immediately recognised the bushy black eyebrows and unruly mass of grey hair.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Ulraunt cursed. "You—_Finnigan? _What in all the blazes are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same," Finn replied. "Is it actually you this time?"

"Yes, it's me, who else would I be? _Oho!_ Been taking my face, have they? But they can't have been doing a good job of it. They've been trying to get inside my skull, to pick my brains like some old crows. But I'm a bit too much for their mind-tricks, and they can't get all they want. Now are you just going to stand there gawping, lad, or are you going to help me out?"

Finn silently obeyed the command. He helped the old man from his prison with no tenderness, resulting in a great many grunts and muttered curses from Ulraunt.

"You might as well have left them to finish me off," he grumbled, dusting off his robe.

"Sorry, sir," Finn replied, in a voice that sounded anything but.

"How...how are you alive in there?" Suzy managed to ask.

"How? Because they kept me that way!" Ulraunt roared. "Been bringing me gifts of food and drink every few days. Properly generous of 'em. I reckon they were hoping I'd crack and give them what they want. Not me!"

"What is it that they wanted?" Anna asked in turn.

"Just full of questions, aren't we?" he replied. "And who are you lot? I don't recognise either of you."

"You could hardly blame them for asking questions," Finn said. "This is Anna, my wife. And you might have recognised Suzy from the village, if you'd ever set foot there. She's only lived there her whole life!"

"Ah, yes. I'd heard some rumour you got married. Some minor gentry from the Dales, or what passes for it out there. And I could hardly overlook the landlord's daughter you impregnated. Curious to see you all together, unless you have a rather _open_ relationship with your wife."

Anna felt her face going red and considered shoving the portly man back into the tomb. But they had far more important things to worry about just then.

_"Aye," _Finn said bleakly. "I don't suppose you came across a secret passage while you were bunked up with Alaundo, did you? We're looking for a way out of here and heard there was an entrance hidden in his tomb."

"If I had, you'd hardly expect me to still be here. Think I'm enjoying the ambience?" Ulraunt said. "You'd be referring to the tale of Alaundo's ghost, I presume. Stuff of nonsense. It isn't in there."

"Then how are we going to get out?" Anna asked, despair in her voice.

"Would you let me finish before you descend into hysterics? There _is_ another entrance to this place. Not in the tomb itself, but along the wall. Bring that torch and I'll show you."

He gestured to the far corner of the crypt. There along the walls was a stone relief depicting a battle, filled with horses and huddled groups of soldiers forever locked in endless combat. Unusual, but Finn did say that Candlekeep was once a fortress. Ulraunt examined the wall for a moment, muttering things to himself. At last he pressed a jewelled stud imbedded in a stone knight's belt and a panel of the wall slid away.

"You know this place awfully well," Finn remarked, gazing into the blackness of the passage.

"I am Keeper of the Tomes, lad, what else did you expect?" he replied. "In the olden days they hid extra stores of weapons and food in these halls. If the keep was ever overrun they could hide out down here and spring a surprise attack on the occupiers. That tale about Alaundo's ghost is all a bunch of nonsense, something made up years later."

"Right. Well, since you know so much, care to lead the way?" Finn said.

"No, lad, I'll let you do the honours. Your shoulders being so much more broad than mine, and all."

"Not by much," he muttered.

"What was that?" The Keeper said sharply.

"Nothing. Let's get on."

...

The passageway rose up in a steep incline that taxed Anna's legs before they'd gone more than a few yards. Ulraunt's heavy breathing filled the narrow stone walkway, but Anna was more concerned about Suzy.

"Are you all right?" she asked the maid.

"Aye," Suzy panted.

She clutched at her large belly and leaned against the wall for support. Her face looked pale and she kept licking her lips thirstily, but Anna had nothing to give her. They would just have to carry on.

Apart from a few twists and turns the passage continued on its vertical ascent, until at last they reached another wall. Ulraunt pulled a lever and Anna found herself blinking in the light of a hallway.

"Oh, thank all the gods, we're free!" Suzy whispered.

"Not free yet," Finn remarked. "Those things are still here somewhere. Why didn't they attack? Did they just think we were trapped down there?"

"Monsters they may be, but they aren't fools," Ulraunt said while trying to catch his breath. "They must have let us escape."

"But why?" Anna asked again. "Why let your quarry out of a perfect trap?"

She glanced around the hallway. A few torches were lit along the walls but the library hall was silent. She thought about summoning the guards, but there was no way to tell who was friend or foe anymore. Better to see to their friends' release themselves.

"Let's ask questions later, aye? Most everyone will be tucked up in bed," Finn said quietly. "Maybe we'll get lucky and make it back to the crypts without anyone noticing."

"Tymora's favour is fleeting, I wouldn't put much faith in it," Ulraunt said. "I need to get to my office first. I have wands and staves a' plenty there, and if we're going to go head-to-head with these things it helps to be armed."

"I _am_ armed," Finn replied. "And you must have spells. We should get to the crypt first. Imoen is down there, and I won't leave her."

"I wasn't asking, boy," Ulraunt barked. "Do as you're told."

Finn started up the hall, but he paused and turned back to him.

"Are you serious? You're not going to start ordering me about like some ten year old whelp. You want to go to your office, then go. I won't stop you. But we're going on."

"Still a fool, I see," the Keeper muttered. "No sense of forethought. Gorion never was able to beat any sense into you."

"And what's it to you if he had?" Finn shot back. "You always paid too much mind to me. What did you care about some orphan brat? All those bloody lessons, all that making sure I never set one toe out of line. I wasn't your ward. Or did you just hate youth that much that you couldn't stand the sight of me?"

His face had turned red and his eyes were burning at the old man, who glared back with equal animosity.

"Oh, if that were true! No, you were _always _my responsibility. It was always on my shoulders, no matter what old Gorion said. And now the crows have truly come home to roost."

Finn opened his mouth to reply but Anna broke in.

"Maybe he's right," she said quickly. "We don't know how many of these things there are, Finn. And for all we know they're guarding the crypt. I could use some extra magic myself, if the Keeper doesn't mind."

"What, are you claiming to be a mage?" Ulraunt said. "But at least your wife shows some sense. Come, this way."

Without further word he turned and headed back in the opposite direction. Finn still looked bleak but he didn't move.

"But how do we know he is who he says he is?" Suzy suddenly asked. "You said these things were shape-shifters. Maybe it's another trap."

"If only," Finn sighed. "It'd be great fun to run my sword through that old bastard. But no, that's him. I can just tell. Well come on then, if I've been outvoted!"

It was a slight in Anna's direction but she ignored it. The three of them set off after the Keeper, who now moved surprisingly fast for a man in his physical condition. But Finn's luck seemed to hold as they encountered no one in the silent halls. They reached Ulraunt's office and the old man reached for the door.

"It'll be locked," Finn said.

Ulraunt didn't reply. He turned the ring and the door swung open.

"Or not," Finn muttered.

Surprisingly the lamps were lit. Anna's heart jumped—a figure sat behind the desk examining some papers. Not the doppelganger Ulraunt, but a thin man in hooded robes. Finn drew his sword but Ulraunt merely folded his arms and clucked at the man.

"Well, well. I thought we might find you here. Still working on that business? Getting to be a bit late you know, and that lamp oil isn't cheap."

The man looked up but didn't lower his hood.

"Then you've been freed at last, I see. I knew they couldn't keep you down there forever. As it happens, I have played a small part in your release. I convinced the doppelgangers that it would be more _entertaining _for them to pick you off one by one. Vicious creatures they are, yet inherently lazy."

Anna stared in surprise. That voice—she was certain she recognised it. The man drew down his hood and her suspicions were confirmed.

_"Perthwaite?" _Finn exclaimed. "What in the hells are you doing here?"

"It was you—I saw you in the temple," Anna said. "I thought you were watching us."

The healer didn't have a chance to reply as Ulraunt strode forward.

"Perthwaite?" he snorted. "That's not your name. I sussed you out, which I suppose is one of the reasons I ended up in Alaundo's good company. No—you're Winski Perorate, lately of Selgaunt, and formerly a resident mage in the hire of one Rieltar Anchev."

Perthwaite, or whoever he was scowled at the accusation.

"Rieltar? That was a very long time ago, indeed. I am in the service of the younger Anchev now."

"Yes, quite. I'll have to hand it to you though, you did a good job of disappearing. Local gossip held that Rieltar had you done away with, for what—some dalliance with his wife?"

The healer had seemed remarkably calm, but at that his face took on a look like thunder.

_"Utter lies!"_ he almost shouted. "She was the most chaste of women. I could never have even _dreamed—"_

"Hang on here!" Finn interrupted. "No one really gives a shite. What I want to know is what are you doing here now? Did Sarevok send you after me?"

"You might say that, in a matter of speaking," he replied, trying to regain some of his composure.

"Yes, he's been a nosy sort all around," Ulraunt said. "You came here looking for something, and when you couldn't find it you had to resort to other means. Like replacing half my library with your damned doppelgangers!"

"But why? What was he looking for?" Anna asked.

This made even less sense than it had before. What could Sarevok Anchev possibly be searching for at Candlekeep that was so clandestine he couldn't look for it openly? With his wealth access to the library would surely be no obstacle.

"Something he knew I wouldn't part with," Ulraunt said angrily. "So he had me locked away. Your mind games failed, though. None of your pathetic charms nor your beastly hirelings could crack into _my _skull. And now your little game is up."

"We learned enough," Perthwaite said. He rose up from the desk and Finn tensed his sword. "You cannot stop any of this now. Although in truth, you never had any chance at all. Neither the strength of your arms nor the might of your spells can stop the tide of prophecy. All will be fulfilled...whether we wish it or not."

With that a glowing light burst from his hands. Anna felt the force of his attack as it weakened every will her muscles possessed. She crumpled to the floor as if she'd suddenly been turned to stone. She heard Finn shout and Ulraunt answer but she couldn't make out what they said over the ringing in her ears. It lasted but a few moments, but it was enough for the healer to make his escape.

"Damn it," Finn growled, pulling himself off his knees. "We need to go after him!"

"Don't concern yourself, I doubt he is a threat," Ulraunt replied. "He certainly could have used deadly force if he chose. Blast it, boy—help me up!"

Ulraunt had landed on the carpet in a heap, with his great robes billowing around his portly frame and making him look rather like a half-sunken cake. Finn muttered something and jerked him up with a grunt. Anna forced her wobbling legs to stand but a weak voice behind caught her attention.

_"Help," _ Suzy whimpered.

She was curled up on the floor, huddled over and clutching her belly. Anna tried to help her into a sitting position but she pushed her away.

"Feck's sake," Finn said. "Are you all right?"

"Aye, I'm feeling just fine, you twat!" she gasped.

"This is drama we do not need," Ulraunt remarked. "Is it your time, girl?"

"No...old Glinda said it wouldn't be here for another month, at least. It's too soon."

She gasped again and managed to pull herself up. Anna quickly poured goblet of wine from a decanter and gave it to her. Suzy sputtered at the draught but it seemed to calm her down.

"She needs to rest," Anna said. "Is there anywhere safe she could stay?"

"Oh, no, you're not leaving me here!" she replied. "I'm not staying here while those...those _things _and a mad wizard are on the loose!"

She dragged herself to her feet and stood leaning against the desk for support, brushing off any attempt by Anna to help her.

"Don't think they'd stand much chance against you, love," Finn said.

Suzy gave him an evil eye but she didn't say anything. Anna cleared her throat.

"We need to do something, though. Are we going to the crypts now? And what was Perthwaite even _doing _here?"

Her head was truly spinning by then. Ulraunt seemed to be ignoring the three of them and went about busily rooting through drawers and cabinets.

"Perorate," he corrected. "He came seeking hidden knowledge, something very few of us here are privy to. Your Gorion was one, Tethtoril another. And myself. But Gorion is dead, and they didn't have much luck turning me. I hope poor Tethtoril fared better but I don't hold out much of it. Damn, where's that rod of cancellation gone to?"

It would be a miracle if Ulraunt could find anything in that mess, Anna thought. The doppelgangers would have to tidy up in order to ransack the place. But the Keeper's answer was still too vague.

"How did you know who he was? Or that he was working for Sarevok?" she asked.

"Questions, questions," he muttered. "He asked too many of the wrong sorts of questions. I'm not an entire idiot. I heard about his connections with Anchev in Baldur's Gate. It wasn't too difficult then to put him in the boots of the apparently-departed Winski."

Anna knew Ulraunt possessed a perfect memory, but she supposed his knowledge must be limitless as well. He knew of her family, but any list of Mistledale landowners could tell him that. How could he have even thought to look for one household mage in a far-off country? The name Perorate was not one she'd heard before.

"Whatever. Let's...just get going," Finn said with an exasperated sigh. "What does it really matter? We find him, he's dead. That's all that matters now."

"You may well be right for once," Ulraunt said, slamming a cabinet door shut. "You there, girl—can you handle a wand of frost? Turn these buggers into icicles."

"Yes, sir," Anna replied, taking the wand from him. It pulsated with the touch of living ice beneath her fingertips.

"Good. I hope you don't mind but I'll keep the staff of fireballs for myself. There's some valuable carpets in here, if you get my meaning. Now, if that other girl isn't ready to pop, let's be on our way!"

Suzy straightened up from the desk with a groan. Anna didn't dare to ask how she was. She wasn't certain she even wanted to. Hearing Finn address her as 'love' made her stomach turn more than their current situation should allow.

...

"Keep your eyes open now, and don't trust anything you see," Ulraunt remarked as they made their way through the empty library.

"That pretty well goes without saying," Finn replied. "I'm just surprised you didn't have them all sussed out from the first. Given your vast knowledge, and all that."

Anna cringed; the last thing they needed was to start another domestic spat. But fortunately Ulraunt didn't rise to the bait.

"Is that sarcasm? I heard stories of people not acting right, but I was hardly to think they'd been replaced by shape-shifters, was I? If it's a failure of mine then I'll accept it. Maybe when that Perorate starting nosing around I should've paid more attention, given the circumstances. But he wasn't the only one asking thatquestion at the time."

"What question?" Finn said. "He said something about prophecy—was it something to do with Alaundo? There's no need to be all cloak and dagger about that, any bookshop in Baldur's Gate would have a copy of his prophecies. Waste of his time to come here."

"Not _all_ the prophecies are common knowledge, boy. And we've studied them far more than most. But that will keep. For now, let's just focus on purging this place of these creatures," he said.

Ulraunt finally seemed to say something Finn agreed with, for he offered no more argument. He kept his sword poised, watchful of the many nooks and crannies they passed in case something might spring an attack. Anna glanced back at Suzy—her face was pale and she looked in pain, but she gave Anna a harsh look in return and she turned back around.

They hadn't gone far when a man noticed them from between the stacks. He approached them quickly yet cautiously, and Anna saw that he bore the face of Ulraunt's assistant Parda. Whether or not it was actually him behind the face though was another matter entirely.

"You—master?" Parda asked. "I...was looking for you. I noticed the lamps were lit in your office. I thought it was strange you'd be working so late."

"Up rather late yourself, lad. Burning the midnight oil, are we?" Ulraunt replied.

"Er, yes. I just wanted to see if—that is, I had some research I wanted to finish up. You know how it is when you can't sleep."

"Quite," the Keeper said. "Honestly been having a time of it myself lately. Bed feels like it was made of stone!"

Parda didn't seem to know how to reply. Finn kept his sword in his grasp and the monk looked at him nervously.

"Hello, Finn. Is there any trouble?" he said, almost trying to sound casual.

"Naw, I always wander round this place with my sword drawn. Some of these archivists can be bloody vicious if you dare smudge a page," he replied.

Parda made a short little laugh. Ulraunt held still although Anna noticed that his staff was in a tight grip.

"Well, I think I might be heading off to my chamber now," Parda said finally. "It is rather late, as you said."

"No, hold on there," Finn said. "We just need to check something first."

He sheathed his sword but drew his dagger from his belt. Parda swallowed hard as Finn approached with the blade, but he relaxed slightly as he offered it to him handle-first.

"What's this?" the monk asked.

"It's not a kitchen spoon," Finn remarked. "Give yourself a little prick on the palm. Just enough to draw blood."

"What?" Parda said again. "Why would you want me to—"

"Just do it, alright?"

Finn's bark was loud enough to make Parda look nervous all over again. He bit his lip, stared at the dagger for a moment, then opened his palm. Parda winced as the steel drew blood onto his pale skin, but the colour that emerged was red.

"That's a relief," Finn sighed. "Good to see you, mate!"

He slapped the shaking monk on the back in a friendly way, but he still looked confused.

"I still don't understand," Parda said, dabbing the wound with his kerchief.

"Doppelgangers bleed green," Anna explained. "We thought you might not be who you appear to be."

"Doppelgangers? You—you know about them, then? _Oh_, thank Oghma! I thought you might be one of them, too," Parda replied. He began to breathe quickly and his words flowed out like water.

"I've known something wasn't right with the master for some time," he continued. "But just this evening I happened to notice the lamps lit in his office, like I said. I thought it was strange as the Keeper rarely works so late. I might have knocked, but for some reason I peered through the keyhole. That's when I saw—oh help me, it was _grey! _This..this _thing. _Like a man but with no nose, and long, long limbs. I knew instantly what it was. I've never been so afraid in my life!"

"You recognised the doppelganger?" Finn asked.

"Yes. I've made a study of magical monsters. Just a hobby, you understand—I've never been tempted to take up adventuring myself. Far too dangerous! Ironic really, as the danger has now come to me. All the pieces fit, but I had no idea what to do. If Ulraunt was corrupted, how could I trust anyone else?"

"Well, it's good to see you showed some sense," Ulraunt said. "I knew you were a good choice of secretary, Parda, even if you do tend to jump at your own shadow. They've kept me locked up in the crypts while my double ran the place, and now I'm going to repay their hospitality. We're heading down that way if you'd care to join us."

"Take on the doppelgangers? I don't know..." Parda hesitated.

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun!" Finn said grimly. "Likely safer than staying up here all on your lonesome, at any rate."

"Yes, there is that... I don't suppose we have much choice, do we? Well...to battle, then!"

It was probably the weakest battle cry ever uttered, but Parda seemed resolved. The five of them hurried through the empty rooms and down the great stone stairs. No one else disturbed them and the library seemed eerily dead as the tomb. Not least for what they soon found lying on the floor.

"That's..one of them," Parda gasped.

He held his stained kerchief to his mouth and nodded at the floor. A dead doppelganger lay at their feet, its gangly limbs flayed out like some plucked and broken bird. A pool of green blood stained the floor around the gash in its side.

"Sword wound," Finn said while cautiously kneeling to examine the body. "Too deep for a dagger. Pretty narrow blade though, not like the broadswords the Watchers carry. A good strike, too. Whoever did this meant business—I don't see any other marks on the thing."

"Who could have done it?" Anna asked.

"Don't know, but they've done us a favour. Let's just get going," he replied.

...

Whoever it was didn't limit themselves to one doppelganger, as they came across the corpses of several slain beasts before they finally reached the entrance hall. The great statue of Alaundo towered up before them, silent master of the blood-stained keep. But Finn jerked them all to a halt as another man stood waiting there.

"Don't...move," the cloaked figure said.

Anna drew a short sigh of relief as the familiar flash of Xan's Moonblade came from under his cloak. Short it was though—not only did they have no way of knowing if he was truly himself, but his other hand was poised in a spell. Finn lowered his blade slightly.

"All right...mate?"

"I do hate when you call me that," Xan said blandly. "But stand aside. I was not speaking to you."

He pointed his blade like an accusatory finger at the five of them. Slowly they moved apart, and Anna looked on in surprise as the blade focused on Suzy.

"Why...why's he pointing that at me? Finn, make him stop!" she said nervously.

"Aye, what are you on about?" he said, drawing nearer to her. "It's alright, she is who she says she is."

"How very convenient," Xan replied. "Fortunately I can see beyond the damsel in distress. Where did you find her? Somewhere lost and helpless, I am certain. No—she is one of them."

"One of what?" Suzy exclaimed. "One of those monsters? I'm not! Tell him I'm not!"

Her face looked frightened again and she clutched at her large belly. Surprisingly Ulraunt came to her defence.

"And who are you to stand here accusing one of us?" he demanded. "You might well be one yourself. Prove your own credentials first, eh?"

"I am an enchanter. I can see through their facade," Xan said. "As for my proof, it is lying scattered on the floor of this place. Or did you not encounter any dead doppelgangers on your way?"

"We did, but—Xan, what happened to you? They called you up to the library," Anna said.

More than anything she wanted to buy them some time. Could Suzy really be a doppelganger? She'd be a perfect plant. But then, so would Xan.

"Yes, and I knew something was wrong in it. But that is precisely why I came. I needed these beasts to reveal themselves, to determine the extent of the corruption here. They wanted to corrupt me as well, but I was ready for them. Unfortunately I was not able to act quickly enough to stop their plans for this evening," he said.

"Yeah. The others are still trapped in the crypts...I hope," Finn said. "But what about Kivan and Luedre? Have you seen them?"

"I haven't seen them, and there is no way to tell if they are living or dead. But one issue at a time. _She _is one of them, and by Corellon Larethian and my honour as a Greycloak you have my word on it."

"But I'm not! I'm just not! He's mad, get him away from me!" Suzy cried.

"Look, calm down," Finn said. "We can solve this easy enough. Xan, you know the test. Care to start?"

Xan scowled at the suggestion but he sheathed his blade.

"Very well. I suppose it would be inordinately foolish of you to accept me on words alone. Not that that alone would prevent you, knowing your history. Do what you must."

He offered out his long palm to Finn. He looked a bit surprised in turn, or perhaps just nervous that he approached so readily. Finn drew out his dagger and pricked the elf's hand. Xan didn't flinch and a single drop of bright crimson blood appeared on his skin.

"Well," Finn sighed. "Guess that's cleared that up. Now your turn, flower."

He turned to Suzy, but she backed away from him with wide eyes.

"Oh, no you don't. You're not coming near me with that thing!"

"It's just a little prick, love, won't hurt a bit," he replied.

"Oh, no," she repeated. "You can just get yourself away from me. What's a drop of blood prove? You're all monsters for all I know! You could stab me right through the heart!"

"Suzy—" Finn began.

_"Don't!" _ she cried.

The maid backed up against the wall in a panic. Finn looked confused, as if something painful was suddenly dawning on him. Anna remembered the hysterical maid from the Jhasso Estate, how she tried so hard to convince Edmund of her truth. In spite of everything though she tried to hold out some hope.

"Wait—listen, would it be alright if I did it?" Anna asked. "Or you could do it yourself. He's right, it's just like pricking yourself with a sewing needle. It won't hurt much."

"And who the hells are you?" Suzy demanded in reply. "You can feck off, too. None of you believe me? Go right to the hells, the lot of you!"

"I told you she was one," Xan said. "Do not let your emotions get the better of you, Finn. The woman you knew is most likely dead, and this creature was surely responsible. You know these doppelgangers show no mercy. They would kill a woman heavy with child, and it would mean nothing to them. All they deserve is death."

His eyes looked like cold grey stone as he stared at her. Finn's mouth opened but he didn't reply.

"I...I think he's right," Parda said quietly. "The marks, can't you see? There, around her forehead. Her disguise is slipping. I wouldn't take any chances."

The marks Parda mentioned looked like the flush of fear to Anna, but she knew little about doppelgangers. Finn looked at the woman in desperation.

"Suzy, just—cut your damn hand, all right?" he shouted. "We can stop all of this right now."

_"No!" _she cried again, tears now streaming openly down her face. _"Get away!"_

"Now, everyone calm down!" Ulraunt bellowed in a voice to shake the hall. "There's no need to get ourselves into a tizzy. Girl, just do as he says. No one here is trying to hurt you!"

_"I don't believe you! You're all monsters!"_ she shrieked.

Everything seemed blurry to Anna. She watched the pale maid as she writhed in pain, helpless as a bug caught under glass. Why would she just not do as Finn asked? Was she really...?

Her thoughts broke off as Xan brushed close to her, and she jumped at the faint touch of his cloak. Something was wrong, something more than the obvious. The elf gazed at Suzy intently, but his expression seemed more fit for the hunter Kivan. It was...eager, almost. She saw the flash of the azure moonstone set into his blade. Xan's Moonblade, the weapon only he could wield. No one else could even touch it, and that magic could not be fooled. Without further thought Anna reached over and grasped the hilt in her hand.

Xan stared at her, and she at him. For a moment neither of them seemed to truly comprehend the meaning behind the gesture. Anna felt no pain. In fact, she felt nothing at all, not even the cool touch of steel. The realisation came to them both and Xan hissed into her ear.

_"Fool. _It will mean nothing to you."

Anna tried to cry out but the doppelganger Xan was quicker. He spoke a word and her voice died in her throat. Finn was still pleading with the hysterical Suzy, who was now curled into a ball on the floor. Ulraunt and Parda seemed equally entranced by the scene and none of them paid any attention to Anna's plight.

Xan seized her arm in a fearsome grip and his free hand stole the wand Anna tried desperately to wield. Surely he couldn't just kill her, Anna thought, not without revealing himself. But she had no weapons beyond her spells, no way of defending herself against the beast. In a mad rush she grappled for his Moonblade but it vanished under her grasp. Nothing about these beasts was real, nothing.

...

But the doppelganger suddenly let out a sick, gurgling cry and released his hold on her. A blade had pierced his neck, slender and bright and stained with blood. Anna collapsed to the floor, watching as the spraying blood turned from red to acid green as Xan's features melted like wax. The beast followed Anna to the floor and she looked up to see Luedre pulling her blade from its dead form.

Anna still couldn't speak, silenced as she was from the spell. Luedre glanced at her but paid her little mind. Instead she looked to another figure of Xan behind her, one Anna sincerely hoped was genuine.

"Stop this, all of you!" he cried out.

His words must have carried magic for the drama suddenly ceased. Suzy looked up at him with mouth agape, staring at him with an almost child-like sense of wonder. Finn likewise looked at Xan like he was about to speak but had forgotten what he wanted to say. Ulraunt and Parda both stared at him, but Ulraunt merely folded his arms.

"Thank you for stopping all this nonsense," he said levelly. "But you'll pardon me if we haven't been introduced. I am the Keeper of the Tomes, and you have just made a considerable mess on my floor. Who are you, then?"

"I am Xan, a Greycloak of Evereska," the enchanter replied. "These are Luedre, my associate, and Kivan my kinsman. I do apologise for the floor, but there was little way to avoid making a mess."

Anna looked up again to see Kivan appearing from the darkness at the end of the hall. Luedre must have been fast indeed if she beat the ranger to his bow.

Ulraunt snorted. "Reckon you're right. And I could see that you were Greycloaks, that's obvious. But that still doesn't quite answer what you're doing here."

"We have just saved your lives from an ambush, if that has any meaning to you," Luedre said.

"We have been hunting these beasts," Kivan broke in, almost in way of apology for Luedre's rather curt remark. "It was obvious from our vantage point that Lord Xan was not who he appeared to be."

"Bully for you. Again, what're you _doing_ here?" Ulraunt said. "We aren't in the habit of receiving officials from Evereska, and I doubt you came all this way to do some light reading."

"They're with me. At least, I hope they are," Finn muttered. "Is it really you this time?"

"I do hope so," Xan said. "As I hope you are truly who you appear to be."

"Can't you tell?" Anna croaked.

Her throat was finally clearing from the doppelganger's spell. She dragged herself to her feet and away from the slain beast.

"No," he said grimly. "There would appear to be a...difficulty. Some of these creatures have shown themselves to be far more sophisticated than the ones we encountered in Baldur's Gate. Their mimicry is...absolute. I only detected their presence by the merest chance. I'm not ashamed to admit that it is terrifying."

"Greater Doppelgangers. Yes, I've read of them," Parda said. "Not only can they steal faces, they can mimic any abilities their victims may have. They are remarkable...if not frightening, as you said."

"So there's no way to tell who's who? Brilliant. We're walking in the dark, then," Finn remarked.

"Not without difficulty," Xan said. "For now we must simply trust one another. Within reason, of course."

Finn began to reply but he was interrupted by a deep moan from Suzy. Anna went to her and this time she didn't resist.

"We need to get her somewhere safe," Anna said. "Is there an apothecary here? There are herbs that might help."

"Yeah. Over near the temple," Finn said distractedly. "If we could get the drawbridge down, maybe we could get her to the village."

"I don't think she could make it that far," she said. "I'll try to get her there. You all can go after Imoen and the others."

"Hang on, you're not going alone! Just wait, we'll all go together."

"There's no time," she replied.

Anna wasn't a healer as such, but she knew that quick action was needed lest mother and child both be in danger. The doppelgangers could do what they liked, but Suzy didn't have a choice.

"I could come with you, if you don't mind," Parda offered. "I did my apprenticeship in an apothecary and I might be of some use. Besides, I—I mean those things are still out there, and—"

"And you're not much use with a blade," Finn said.

"I don't even have a weapon," the monk said apologetically. "I'd be more use with a mortar and pestle than swinging a mace."

"If you like, then," Anna said, helping Suzy to her feet.

"If that is the case, then I shall accompany you as well," Xan said. "Kivan can go with Finn, if it is suitable to him."

"Of course," the ranger replied.

"But why you?" Finn asked. "Feel like putting your feet up?"

"Wouldn't we all?" Xan replied. "But the only safety we can have now is in numbers. I can feel reasonably certain that my kinsmen are who they claim to be. And while I cannot claim to have skill with the task we might well have to hand, Kivan's tracking abilities will almost certainly be of use during yours. There are more of them out there, Finn. Be wary."

His grave warning needed no repeating. How many were there? A dozen, perhaps more? There was no way to tell.

"Yeah," Finn sighed. "Are you sure about this, Anna?"

_"Anna?_ What about me?" Suzy interrupted. "None of you even bloody _asked _what I wanted to do."

"Well, stay here then!" Finn exclaimed. "I'm sorry about all that. I've you weren't so bloody...never mind. What's the use? Let's get going. Imoen and the others still need help. Get to the apothecary and stay there if you can. We'll try to find you later."

He turned and stormed off in the direction of the crypts without another word to Anna, or the woman she tried to support in her grasp. Suzy wrenched herself free and straightened up.

"I don't need your sympathy here. What a bastard! It's you I feel sorry for, pet, being married to _him."_

Anna didn't reply. Ulraunt and Kivan followed Finn, and the rest of them went out into the frozen courtyard. After so much time in the crypts the frosty night air felt almost like a blow to the lungs. They carried no lights but instead followed the elves' lead through the blackened keep.

"Dark," Parda whispered. "I've never seen it so dark. The guards usually have torches lit along the ramparts. This is bad. They can't _all _be turned, surely. Can they?"

"Turned, or dead," Luedre replied. "We encountered several dead guards in the barracks. I doubt they ever suspected an attack from their comrades."

"Is that how you found Xan?" Anna asked.

"Yes. In the end we simply walked into the library without challenge. It would seem they were distracted elsewhere," she said grimly.

"Their game is truly afoot," Xan replied. "One more round of chess among many. But silence, now."

...

The apothecary was a small stone building that sat unassuming in the shadow of the temple, no doubt placed near for the benefit of the priests when their healing skills were called upon. They found it locked but Xan made short work of the bolt with a spell. They hurried inside and Luedre barred the door with a chair.

"That will not stop the beasts, but it might slow them down," she admitted.

A faint glow of embers in the hearth threw some light into the room. It glinted strangely off endless shelves of jars, some made of clay, others of more expensive glass. Thankfully the current apothecary had labelled his charges, making Anna's work somewhat easier.

"Jonhessa isn't here," Parda announced after emerging from the back room. "It doesn't look like her bed's been slept in, either. I guess—well, not much use in dwelling on that. I hope she has Oghma's protection. But if she wanted to lie down?"

He looked at Suzy hesitantly. Anna gathered that she rather frightened the shy young monk, not being entirely the age or sort of woman he was used to dealing with. Suzy though seemed in a considerably less confrontational mood than she'd been before.

"Aye. It...hurts. It's too soon, isn't it? The baby..."

"It's alright," Anna lied. "Just try to relax. We'll do what we can. Parda, is there any wine around the place? Suzy could use a cup."

"I think...yes, I saw some. I'll see to it," he replied.

Anna helped Suzy into the missing monk's bed, and lit a candle while Parda brought her a cup of wine. She took the cup but only stared at it.

"Drink some," Anna said. "It will help you to relax."

"How am I meant to relax here?" Suzy asked. "I mean, could you? Would you?"

"No," she sighed. "But do try."

Suzy didn't respond but she took a sip of wine. Anna wandered out into the main workroom and Parda followed.

"What shall we look for?" he asked.

_"Hm?" _ Anna said.

She rubbed her hands over her temples over and over, feeling the rough touch of her dirty hair under her palms. She glanced at Xan and Luedre talking quietly together and neither of them seemed real.

"Herbs, for the woman," Parda said.

"Oh...yes. _Um, _cramp bark, valerian... You were an apothecary, what do you think?"

"Apprentice apothecary," he said with an apologetic smile. "I'll follow your lead and see what I can find on the shelves. Why don't you sit down? You don't look too well, if you'll forgive my saying so."

Anna didn't argue. Her head was still sore from where the statue had struck, but it was more than that. She couldn't deny it any longer—she resented Suzy and her baby so much that it hurt. _Finn's _baby. She wished they would just vanish into the air. But a child born too early might not live, and certainly none of them were midwives. In spite of everything she would never wish them harm. The cold smack of reality made her stomach ache.

"I cannot bear to just sit here," Luedre hissed in Elvish.

"Patience," Xan replied slowly. "We must...wait."

_Wait...wait._ Wait for their opponent to make the next move. How many of them were outside in the dark, circling like birds of prey? Or inside, Anna thought with a shudder. She glanced up at the elves. Luedre gave her a slight scowl but Xan looked upon her with an unreadable expression. No doubt they thought the same of her.

"I shall ensure the windows are secured," Luedre said. "We would not want anything creeping in while our backs are turned. Or _out."_

Somewhat pointedly she strode into the back bedroom. Parda looked down from his perch on a rather precarious ladder but went back to examining the jars. The silence in the room felt like a beast waiting to pounce. Anna forced herself to speak, trying to drive it back.

"What happened in the library?" she asked Xan.

"They did their best to manipulate me into a trap," he replied. "But I had cause to be wary. As soon as I could manage I disappeared. They sought for me but I was not their primary concern, it would seem."

"When did you suspect them?" Anna said.

"I knew something was wrong," Xan said. His voice took on that distant, almost idle tone it often had since his injury. "Not wrong like before. Different, but I could feel the change. I felt it on my skin. _Children."_

The afterthought was a strange one. Anna remembered his rambling speech at the inn.

"You mention children quite often these days," she said. "But perhaps we might soon have one for real."

"Yes," he said, though he didn't sound concerned at the prospect. "It's all wrong, isn't it? Everything about this place is wrong. What are they hiding? So much hidden in plain sight. _Children."_

Xan was drifting again, lost in the currents of his thoughts. Anna was almost growing familiar with this. Perhaps she could steer him towards some mooring.

"Children, yes. But whose children? There are no children here."

"No..." Xan said, but he sounded unsure. "I heard the word. It was spoken in his mind. Spoken—no, a shout. Not guarded, meant to be heard. A curse. _Children."_

"Yes, but who do you _mean?" _Anna persisted. She was in little mood to deal with Xan but she knew there was meaning in his ramblings, and she was determined to suss it out.

Xan stared into the dwindling fire. An ember snapped and it caught the lights in his eyes.

"Not by blood. Not by flesh. No..._children. _The sins of the father. They were lost, and he gathered them. A blood price... They are together, they must be. The distance means nothing to blood."

Anna could only stare at him. _"Finn," _she said weakly.

Why mention his name? There was something in Xan's speech, hidden as with a stage magician's mirrors. There, and not there. It framed an idea in her mind but she couldn't understand what it was.

"Yes," Xan said. "The children. The foundlings, in the city. There, the answers were there."

...

Anna snapped back to herself. She happened to look up and noticed Parda frozen on his ladder, listening to Xan's rambling conversation with as much intensity as she had been. He quickly grasped a jar and climbed back to the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "The elf is... Well, I have what you wanted. He...he makes you listen to him, doesn't he?"

"Xan? Yes," Anna said.

The enchanter had already turned away from them, still gazing into the dying fire. She sighed and took up the jars.

"We'll make her a decoction. I'll boil some water if you'll prepare the herbs. One ounce of each for now."

Not wanting to disturb Xan's musing she lit a magical fire and placed a small cauldron over the flames. Parda went to work measuring out the ounces with the brass weights on the scales. He seemed to be having difficulty with the task, and pursed his lips as he added and removed small amounts of powdered bark from the measuring cup.

"It doesn't need to be _exactly _one once," Anna said, somewhat irritated.

"Oh, I know. But I wanted to get it right. It's important, isn't it?" he replied.

Anna nodded. She felt rather guilty for snapping at him, but her nerves were tense as a bowstring.

"So, what was he talking about?" Parda said quietly. "All that about children. Did it have something to do with Finn?"

"I...don't know," she said. "Perhaps it did. Are you friends with him? With Finn, I mean."

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," the monk replied. "We're about the same age, and there aren't too many people here under forty, as you might have noticed. He was in the guard so our paths didn't cross too often, but I always liked him. He seemed a personable fellow. Not a bully like some types who carry a sword around."

Anna's face melted into a little smile. So much of Finn's past seemed clouded with shadow that it was nice to find a bright spot now and then. But her thoughts turned back to Xan's ramblings.

"You must have known Gorion fairly well," she said.

Parda nodded. "Yes, I saw him frequently in the library. He was a good man, such a terrible thing that happened to him. Although I probably know Finn better. Gorion didn't have much to say for himself."

"So he never mentioned where he found Finn, then."

_"Mm, _some orphanage in Baldur's Gate, I thought. Is that what the elf was talking about?"

Anna bit her lip and tapped the side of the cauldron with her fingertip. That's what Finn had thought, too, but the priest there had never heard of him or Gorion.

Such a sorrowful place for children. The priests there had seemed kind, but their charity couldn't hide the sadness. Anna knew that not all the children were true orphans. Some of them still had a mother or a father, or both parents alive. They were sent to the temple when one more mouth was one too many to feed, when illness or poverty forced those with no other choice to abandon their children. Anna wondered which child had the worse fate; the one who knew no one was coming for him, or the one who still lived in false hope of a joyous reunion, for the return of welcoming arms and love.

"So sad," Parda said, shaking his head. "All those poor, abandoned children."

"Yes," Anna sighed.

But what did Xan mean? The answers _weren't _there, they knew that for a fact. The more she thought of it the less sense his speech made. It served her right for trying to question a mad elven enchanter.

Parda finally prepared his herbs and she placed them in the water to steep. Luedre returned from her rounds and spoke to Anna.

"She is asking for you," Luedre said.

Anna directed Parda to keep an eye on the pot then went into the bedchamber. She walked almost on tip-toe, fearful of disturbing something, but she had no idea what. Suzy was sitting up in bed, her big belly looking very pronounced under the covers.

"This bed's like a rock. So much for me thinking these monks were living the high life," she said ruefully.

Anna smiled a little. "How are you feeling?"

"A little sick. And my stomach keeps hurting, then stopping again. It takes my breath away."

"I've some medicine for you, it should be ready soon. With luck we can calm your womb and stop the baby from coming."

"That's good," she said. "But that's why I wanted to talk to you. If it does...I mean, if anything...if anything happened to _me _I mean, then the baby..."

"Nothing's going to happen," Anna tried to assure her. "We will manage to deliver the child, if it comes to that. We have all the medicine we might need here, and one of our group is a priestess. There's nothing to worry about."

"I know. But I keep thinking about that... Ma's sister died in childbirth, you know. They were twins and all. Ma never did get over it. She said after that she didn't want any more children," Suzy said quietly. "I keep thinking about it now, and what would happen to my wee baby, if anything..."

Anna gave her a slight smile and squeezed her hand. It felt cold as ice on the blanket.

"You don't need to worry. You're young and strong. And if anything did...happen, we'd see to it the child was well looked after. You don't need to worry about that." "But that's just it," Suzy said. She had been toying with the blanket but she suddenly looked Anna square in the eye. "If anything did happen to me, I don't want Finn to have this baby."

"You—what?" Anna said.

"He'd be no kind of father," she continued. "I wouldn't want to think of my little lad out there in the world with him. You seem like a decent woman, I'll admit—but not him. He's never put a ring on my finger, and as far as I'm concerned he's nothing to do with this child."

"But, I don't understand. You said before—"

"I know what I said," she replied grimly. "But none of that matters. I don't want him to have this baby. When he's born, Finn can just go away. Dad was right, he's only trouble. Even if he _wanted_ to stay he'd still draw trouble here somehow. Look at all this—monsters, hired killers, all for him in some way or another. No. I don't want him to have anything to do with us."

Anna couldn't reply. She felt stunned by the woman's quiet speech. Why it should surprise her so much she didn't know, nothing Suzy said was unreasonable given the circumstances. But her rejection of Finn felt almost like a rejection of Anna herself, and she took it personally.

"Well. I'm certain it won't come to that. And you'll certainly be free to raise the child on your own. I doubt Finn will...but I should see to your medicine."

...

She turned away quickly and marched into the other room. Parda was hovering over the cauldron and he looked up startled at her approach.

"Ah...I'm sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts. I believe the brew is ready."

He filtered out the herbs with a cloth and carefully strained the steaming drink into a cup. The heady scent of herbs filled Anna's nostrils and made them prickle uncomfortably.

"This smells foul," she muttered. Parda only shrugged.

"I made it just as you instructed. Perhaps you should try it yourself, just to see if it's suitable. In her condition...well, we wouldn't want to upset her, would we?"

Anna scowled at the mug, then glanced at the jars sitting open on the table. Parda had evidently taken it upon himself to work on something else in the meantime, and she wasn't sure what it was.

But then she saw it, lying there on the work table—a stray dusting of dried leaves. Dried, but Anna recognised the colour and shape. Foxglove. _Digitalis. _A common sight in gardens and a remedy familiar to healers, but more toxic than a serpent's venom. Anna's mouth opened and her fist clenched hard on the cup.

Parda's eyes followed hers and he looked surprised, then appalled.

"Oh, no. You don't think—you think I would poison a pregnant woman? No, no—the foxglove is for _me. _I have a weak heart, have since I was born. One of the reasons I chose working in a library over a life of adventuring, _heh. _But my medicine is up in my chamber in the tower, so I..."

"Yes, there is no cause for concern," Xan's voice said. Anna turned quickly to see the elf standing behind her. "I was watching him while he made the preparations. None of that leaf entered the woman's brew."

Anna looked back down to the cup. So Xan said...if he was Xan at all. Perhaps they were both monsters. A double bluff. Could she really trust either of them? She looked at Luedre. The woman glanced back but she seemed indifferent. What could Anna do? Suzy needed that medicine, time was of the essence. But perhaps it was not a tonic at all.

_No, no. _It was all madness. She couldn't second-guess everyone. Safety in numbers, Xan had said. Anna looked at the steaming cup of herbs. She drew a deep breath, then drank of the hot liquid.

She waited. She felt nothing. The brew tasted foul but she felt no weakening of her limbs. Anna breathed a great sigh of relief, then hurried into the bedchamber.


	105. Feast of the Moon

Time seemed to drag impossibly slow. Anna went in and out of the bedchamber even though there was little she could do for Suzy. The maid herself had no interest in further talk. She lay quietly except for the moments when the child troubled her, but even then all that passed her lips was a tense, low moan. Anna left her to ponder the future in silence.

Xan mused in a chair by the fire, immune to anything around him. Anna almost wished for his ability to drift away; watching Luedre pacing like a caged cat did little for her nerves. Parda tinkered idly with the missing apothecary's equipment. He looked up with a strained little smile now and then, but he too had nothing to say.

"Where are they? What's happening out there?" Anna finally said.

She spoke more to herself than anyone, but Luedre paused and turned around.

"I do not know. What good is it to wait here? The beasts could be surrounding this place even as we speak. We should move, find somewhere more defendable."

Anna bit her lip and looked around. The apothecary's walls were made of solid stone, but the shutters were thin boards and the roof only made of thatch. Luedre had a point but she could think of nowhere else to go that would be much safer. Besides, Suzy needed to stay in bed.

"I wish Xan would wake up," Anna remarked.

Luedre glanced at him and a look of pain came over her face.

"It is terrible, seeing him in such a state. He needs to return home," she said. "Nothing else will heal him."

"I suppose your people have skills in healing that far outweigh our own," Anna replied.

"Indeed. But it is more than that. He needs his kinsmen, and that very energy which our home alone can provide. I...worry sometimes for him, wandering for years amongst the humans. It cannot be good for him."

Anna bristled slightly, although in truth she felt Luedre's remark wasn't intended as a slur.

"It must be the same for you though, surely?" she asked. "You are a Greycloak as well."

"Yes, but my life has been different. I do not travel as much as Lord Xan, and I spend much of my time guarding the borders of our homeland. When I am ordered away it is rare that I am sent alone. He however...I feel he has been too isolated. But I should not be speaking of such things."

It seemed a rather frank admission, Anna thought. But Luedre said nothing else and stood watching Xan quietly as he meditated on the fire.

...

The silence settled in again, somehow more painful that before. Anna stood to make Suzy another brew but she was interrupted by a hammering on the door.

_"Let me in! Open up!" _ Finn's voice cried from the other side.

Anna jumped and moved towards the door, but Parda took her arm.

"No, don't! We don't know who's out there."

"It could be him—" she began.

"No, the monk is right, we must be careful," Luedre replied.

She drew her blade and slid closer to the door but the hammering came again.

_"I'm serious! It's me, alright! They jumped us...Khalid's hurt! Just open up the door!"_

Xan had risen to his feet but he offered no opinion. Luedre's face was set like stone but Anna could see her hesitating. Anna had no idea what to do, but she couldn't chance it. She dashed to the door, pushed aside the chair and opened the bolt. She jumped back again as Finn stumbled in, his face covered in blood.

"Dammit," he swore, slamming the door shut behind him. "They got to us...the others are holed up in the barracks, but I wanted to make sure you were safe. Never ran so fast in my life. Are you all right?"

His breathing was heavy and he leaned hard on his knees. He was just about to draw the bolt across the frame when the door shuddered with another knock.

_"It's me, open up! They're out here, they're after me!" _Finn's voice cried again.

_"Fuck," _Finn said. "It's them, don't listen to them!"

He struggled to get the door latched but whoever was on the other side had different ideas. After a brief scuffle the door burst open and Anna caught her breath as another Finn hurried into the cottage.

_"You!" _ he shouted, spotting his double. "You've had it, you bastard!"

He drew his sword and the other Finn did the same. Anna stared in disbelief and even Luedre stepped back, uncertain what to do. Parda just stood with his hands over his mouth, looking on the scene in horror. But Xan seemed to break from his trance and spoke.

"You will _both_ lower your weapons. We have no reason to trust either of you. Bolt the door and step away from one another."

"Yes, you may both be doppelgangers," Luedre said. "A clever ruse. But know this—if either of you make a move I will run you through without hesitation. Do as Lord Xan says."

The two Finns scowled but they did as commanded. Anna could only stare. Apart from the gash on the right-hand one's head they were entirely alike. Everything was the same, from the patch on the boot-toes to the stains on their cloaks. The injured Finn looked at Anna.

"Are you all right, love?" he asked again. "Don't listen to this one! It's me. I mean, _I'm _me."

"How—how can I tell?" she stammered.

"I don't know...ask me something!" he replied.

"Well, I...what do you like for breakfast?"

It was a ridiculous question, but Anna was totally at a loss. She tossed him a towel gingerly as if he'd been a lion. He scooped it off the floor and began blotting his head.

"Eggs and bacon," he said.

_"Eggs and bacon?" _the other Finn exclaimed. "Hells, half the coast eats eggs and bacon for breakfast! Lucky guess. Next thing you'll say you like a nice pork pie for your tea! _He's _the bloody monster, I'm telling you. Look, how's this—you knit in the evenings, you're making yourself a blue vest. You scent the sheets with rosewater cause you say lavender makes your nose itch. Your favourite song is _Leonder's Flute _and you always sing it when you're working_. _ You think I'd know all that if I wasn't who I said?"

"Oh, bollocks!" the first Finn said. "He's been in my mind, love! He must know everything! All right, then—_you _like herring on toast for breakfast, but you almost never have it because you say the fishmongers charge too much. Really though you're just being tight. We had our first kiss in a tavern, even though I was with Safana at the time. And you rinse your hair with chamomile to make it more blonde!"

"Are you trying to get on her good side, or what?" the other Finn scoffed. "She'll likely tear your arm off!"

"Exactly. Who else but her real husband would have the balls to say something like that?" he claimed.

The second Finn groaned. "That's your plan then, is it? Gods, am I really that much of a tit? It's a wonder she doesn't slaughter the both of us right here!"

_"Stop it, both of you!" _Anna suddenly cried. "This is ridiculous. Xan, can't you sense anything?"

"No..." Xan said slowly. "But I have an idea. Sing _The Battle of Giant's Keep."_

He clasped his hands and stared levelly at the two of them. Both the Finns looked confused.

"Why?" the uninjured Finn said. "I thought you hated that song. Any time I sang that in camp you'd just tell me to shush."

"I do, but that is beside the point. Sing," he insisted.

"Suit yourself, then," Finn said.

He began to sing, but before he had barely finished the first verse Xan stopped him.

"That is enough," he said quickly. "Now the other, if you please."

"I don't know what this is meant to prove, but fine," the other Finn said, but he sang as bidden.

He sang in a rich baritone, his voice echoing the clash of steel and the fate of the doomed castle in perfect time. Anna's mouth opened slightly but Xan interrupted her before she could speak.

_"Ndengina ta," _he hissed, and Luedre was swift. Before Finn could even stop singing her sword had pierced his neck. Anna felt her legs giving way under her, both from the shock of seeing her husband run through, and the sight of his features melting into a slick-skinned grey beast. It collapsed onto the floor and the other Finn looked on in surprise.

_"Damn," _he gasped. "Mind telling me what that was all about? I'm flattered you liked my singing, but even so!"

"I did _not _enjoy your singing," Xan replied. "You have tortured my ears with your rendition of that ballad more often than I care to recount."

"So—what?" Finn said. "You didn't think he was me because he _couldn't sing?"_

"No. I didn't believe he was you because he _could. _You are always out of tune and have the rhythm of a drunken horse. I knew he was false the moment he opened his mouth."

Finn looked annoyed. "What the hells is that supposed to mean?"

Xan sighed. "You do not understand the mind. These doppelgangers can read thoughts and emulate their victims with complete accuracy—but therein lies their flaw. You honestly believe you can carry out a passable version of that tune, and therefore so did the doppelganger. But this creature is not limited to your physicality, and in this case he achieved what you could only attempt. Seeking perfection became his downfall."

Finn's mouth opened, but whatever insult he had died on his tongue. He looked somewhat confused by Xan's explanation and seemed to think the better of it. Anna might have been tempted to laugh but the presence of a dead doppelganger at their feet robbed the moment of humour.

"That was quite impressive, really," Parda said slowly. "And he's right, Finn. You..._um, _never mind."

"Great. So now the whole world wants to tell me I'm a tuneless git!" Finn exclaimed.

"I think, considering the circumstances your lack of bardic ability is the least of our concerns," Xan said. "You said the others were in danger? What has happened?"

"Yeah," he said with an exasperated sigh. "We made it down to the catacombs, but the doppelgangers were waiting. It was...well..."

He looked up and his words trailed off. Anna followed his eyes to see Suzy standing in the doorway of the bedchamber.

"I heard a racket. What's going on? Oh, gods, are they here?"

She noticed the dead doppelganger and her fists clenched hard on the door frame. Anna hurried to her.

"It's alright, we've taken care of it. You should go back to bed."

"Don't order me about. If I want to squat and squeeze out this baby right here I will do," she replied angrily.

Anna frowned but she turned back to Finn. If Suzy was determined to be stubborn there was nothing she could do.

"But what about the others?" she asked.

"They jumped us, like I said," Finn replied. "But it was _us. _Jaheira, Khalid, Imoen...they'd stolen all their faces. Not a pretty fight. We found the others in the crypts—seems like the monsters finally got tired of waiting. Khalid was hurt pretty bad. We got as far as the barracks when we were ambushed again. The others ran inside, but I needed to make sure you were all right here."

"How many of these creatures remain?" Luedre asked.

"Don't know," Finn said. "Six maybe? Five, if you count this bastard here. But there's no telling how many of them might still be skulking about in the keep. Or in the village, for that matter."

"You think they're down there too?" Suzy broke in.

She looked alarmed, as if she hadn't considered the idea before. Finn shrugged.

"No way to tell. Sorry, love. But if they're down there, we'll find them."

"We cannot wait here any longer, _heruamin," _Luedre said to Xan. "We cannot wait for these creatures to pick us off one by one. We must take the battle to them."

"Yes, you are correct," Xan sighed. "You go with Finn and Anna. Parda and myself shall stay behind and see to the woman's safety. If that is agreeable?"

He looked to Parda, who seemed entirely relieved to not be nominated for the duty.

"Yes, yes of course. I will see she gets her medicine. Don't worry."

"I would prefer not to leave you behind, _heruamin," _ Luedre protested. "It might not be safe—"

"There is no safety here," he replied quietly. "Go. And be careful."

"As you command, then," she said, and nodded her head.

...

Anna wasn't really prepared to go back out into the cold and dark but they had no choice. She still had the wand Ulraunt gave her but no other weapons. She cursed leaving her good staff behind as the three of them hurried out into the night.

It was still black, a wall of darkness nearly deep as the crypts. A few lights were to be seen here and there in the towers of the Keep and they glowed like yellow stars in the featureless sky. Above them Anna could feel the heaviness of the clouds. Cold, wet whispers began to brush against her cheeks and melted on her hot face. Beyond the walls she could hear the angry roar of the sea. The storm was finally coming ashore.

"We'll get to the barracks first," Finn said quietly. "Don't...trust...anyone."

But how could they not, Anna thought? She couldn't even be sure if Finn was who he claimed to be. Almost in response to her thoughts a figure emerged from the darkness, dazzling Anna's eyes with his torch as he ran towards them. He wore the gear of a Watcher and Anna recognised him as the guard who greeted Finn when they arrived. For his part Finn seemed more cautious.

"Hull?" he said slowly. "Stand where you are, mate. Don't get too close."

_"Finn," _he breathed. "Thank the gods. They're here—_monsters!_ They killed the captain, and even the old dwarf Reevor! I came back to the barracks and found them all dead!"

"How did you get away?" Finn asked.

"I didn't... May the gods forgive me. I...passed out on my post," Hull replied. "It's cold up on them ramparts you know, and I thought I'd bring a little whiskey along to pass the time. But when I woke up I realised that no one had come to relieve me. I went back to the barracks, thought for sure I'd be in for it. But then I found..._oh, gods. Oh, gods."_

The old guard wailed silently to himself. His face behind the grizzled, unkempt beard was pale and his eyes were glassy red. He kept looking around the courtyard distractedly as if he expected someone else to appear.

"Aye. But we were in the barracks just a short time ago. Where were you?" Finn insisted.

"I ran out again," Hull explained. "I needed to find help. I met up with Hendur on the wall, tried to tell him what was going on, but he just bloody attacked me! I tried to fight back...he was so strong. _Too_ strong. The only thing that saved my arse was him slipping on the ice. But then he just..._turned. _Never seen anything like it in my life. Thought my old heart was going to give out right there!"

"Yeah, we know. Alright, you can stay with us. But we don't know who's who anymore. There's shape-shifters out there, Hull, and we can't really trust anyone. Mind yourself, aye?" Finn said.

"All right, then," he replied. "Don't know if you are who you're meant to be either, but I'm just glad to see another face! I'll take my chances."

They pressed on towards the barracks. Anna shied away from Hull but he seemed uninterested in her as he tromped along through the snow, breathing heavily underneath his helmet. As they hurried up to the building Finn drew his sword, and Anna could see why. The entire door had been bashed away, the heavy oak splintered as if it had been made of twigs.

"Damn, damn," Finn muttered. He paused for one moment on the step to peer inside, then dashed into the building.

The bunkhouse was long and narrow with a fire crackling at either end. Rows of rough beds lined either side, with a sort of common area in the middle. The tables were scattered with overturned mugs and the spilled remains of a cold supper, a testament to the last activity of the dead guards who lay at their feet. Two doppelgangers also lay dead, their green blood mingling with the guards' red, turning it a sick colour. But thankfully the bodies of their friends were not among them.

"They must have been attacked," Finn said. "But where did they go?"

"I didn't see anyone else out there," Hull replied.

He went around looking over the bodies of the fallen men, bending down as if he wanted to help them, or his eyes couldn't quite believe what they saw. But they were beyond their help.

"Perhaps we should split up," Anna said.

The suggestion was a bit foolish, but she wouldn't mind seeing Hull going off in another direction.

"To divide our forces even more is the last thing we would want," Luedre remarked. "And no doubt what these beasts have been trying to do all along. Their very nature is cowardice. No—we must find the others and engage them head-on."

"Yeah. Alright. Hull, bring that torch," Finn said.

He coughed a little looking at the dead men, his mind no doubt running over times past. They might have spent hours laughing together over a game of cards, or hated the sight of one another. But it mattered little just then.

"Maybe we can find them if we follow their tracks," he continued. "We'd better hurry, though, as this snow is going to cover them up before long. Let's get going."

It was easier said than done. Outside the barracks was a jumbled mess of tracks scattering off in different directions. The snow was falling fast and had turned the prints into vague hollows, making it impossible to tell one footprint from another.

"Wish Kivan was here," Finn muttered.

"Indeed, but we do not need him for this," Luedre said. "See here—a set of five tracks. The snow behind this one is disturbed, a trail of a cloak or robe, and his steps are wide and heavy. Ulraunt seems to have gone off alone towards the fortress. And these two walking close together, one taking short steps, the other staggering. And there is blood in the snow. Your Harpers. They went that way, and took the girl with them. I would imagine they were trying to get the injured to safety."

"You're right. Don't know why I didn't see it," Finn said.

"You did, but your mind is not clear," she replied. "You did not allow the tracks to tell you their tales. But never mind. The Harpers were heading towards the inn by the direction of their tracks. Let us follow them first and see if they are in need of aid."

The inn—Anna had almost forgot about the innocent guests. Could they know what was going on in the Keep? And even if they did, would they have any way of defending themselves? Firebead Elvenhair was still there, and an impressive mage, providing the doppelgangers hadn't eliminated him as well.

...

First impressions didn't bear well. The inn was dark, its windows catching the light of the torch and reflecting it like water. Finn tried the front door but it was bolted shut.

"Locked. Let's try the kitchen," he said.

They scurried around past the henhouse and up to the kitchen door. It too was shut and bound fast, but Anna offered to cast a spell. She cast quietly as she could and the bolt fell open. But before her hand could find the ring they heard the sound of the bolt drawing shut again.

"Who goes there?" a voice demanded from inside.

"It's Finn, and others. Who are you?"

"Someone who would prefer to keep you out, if you don't mind," the voice answered.

Finn scowled, but Anna recognised the speaker.

"Master Firebead? It's Anna Whitehaven. Please let us in. There are doppelgangers hunting us."

She hoped her plea sounded sincere, but the bolt stayed closed.

"Yes, it's an unfortunate development," Firebead replied. "We've had our own problems with them. The landlord actually attempted to eat my head! Not a tick for good service, really."

Anna groaned. _"Please, _sir. Are Jaheira and Khalid there? We just need to get inside. It's not safe out here!"

She heard the sound of talk coming from the kitchen. After a moment the bolt slid aside, and Jaheira's voice was plain.

"Let them in. We can determine afterwards if they are who they claim."

Anna followed the others inside, but she stopped at the sight of Jaheira and the mage facing them down. The druid had her mace in her hand and her clothes were torn and stained with blood.

"I should inform you that my patience is sorely stretched now," she said matter-of-factly. "If you are doppelgangers, simply attack and be done with it."

"It's all us, but I don't know how we can prove it," Finn admitted. "How's Khalid? Is Imoen with you?"

"I'm here. I'm fine," a small voice answered. Anna looked to see Imoen crouched in a corner by some sacks. Her eyes had a glassy red that seemed to speak of more than their current troubles.

"Khalid is stable," Jaheira said grimly. "He is resting in the lounge. The guests have gathered in the library and Kivan is watching over them. We thought it best that no one wanders off by themselves, for many obvious reasons."

"Bet they must have loved that," Finn said. "Nobles don't take well to being herded like sheep."

"I daresay, but this lady here didn't give them much choice," Firebead chuckled. "I myself am happy enough to follow the Harpers' lead in this difficulty. Hopefully when all is said and done I may get a chance to study these creatures. It's an exciting opportunity!"

"My thoughts _exactly,"_ Finn remarked. "We killed another in the apothecary's. Xan and Parda have stayed with Suzy. We met up with Hull here, but it looked like you came under attack and we came to find you."

"Yes, the doppelgangers attempted to cajole their way in with another ruse. Fortunately they were transparent this time. But the barracks were no longer safe, so we decamped here. Ulraunt however was determined to return to the library. He said there was something he needed to do. We warned him about setting off alone, but he would not be stopped," Jaheira said.

"That's his problem, then. Got any plans?" Finn asked. "Beyond just stabbing at anything that acts suspicious, that is."

The druid sighed. "Unfortunately, that is almost the _only_ plan. We have no means of unmasking these creatures beyond force. We thought to make the inn as secure as possible then wait till daybreak to make our next move. But the maid's condition makes that difficult. Would it be safe to move her here?"

"I don't think so," Anna said. "She should lie still. Besides, we don't have any way of guaranteeing the doppelgangers wouldn't make another strike if we were out in the open. Xan and Parda are with her, and hopefully that will be enough to keep her safe. But as for the other problem...I wish you could go to her. She could use a healer now, and a woman most especially."

"I am no midwife, though I would do what I can," she replied. "But I am reluctant to leave Khalid. Most of my blessings were spent stabilising his injuries, and I fear he could yet take a turn for the worse."

"So what we're saying is we can't go out, and we can't stay here. Fantastic," Finn grumbled. "We're really in a tight little poke, aren't we?"

"Kivan and I could go out on patrol," Luedre offered. "We have no difficulty with darkness. I would prefer to be out seeking the enemy myself, rather than stay caged here."

"I feel it would be wiser if we all remained here. Once you step outside the door there is little telling what might happen. But if you wish, then. Go speak with Kivan. For our part I think we have little choice but to spend the rest of the night here," Jaheira said.

Luedre nodded and exited the room. Firebead went to pick up a tray of cakes and cold meats that was sitting on the table.

"If that's decided, then I shall return to the library. In the absence of our host I thought my fellow inmates might enjoy an evening snack. All this excitement certainly works up an appetite! Do summon me if we come under attack," he said cheerfully.

"Yeah, we'll do that," Finn groaned. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and looked at Imoen. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm not. They're dead," Imoen said briefly.

"Who's dead?"

"Winthrop and Vera. They must be. The doppelgangers wouldn't leave them alive."

"We do not know that for certain, child," Jaheira tried to reassure her.

"Well, I do!" Imoen shot back. "It was them, for months. All the time I've been here. I knew old Puffguts wasn't acting right. That's why I sent that letter. But I never thought...maybe if I'd _known_... But I didn't even think! It's all my fault."

"You couldn't have known doppelgangers had taken over this place," Anna said. "Don't blame yourself."

"Maybe not doppelgangers, but I knew something was wrong," she replied. "Maybe it all wouldn't have gone so far if I'd spoken up sooner. Maybe...they might still be alive."

Imoen wiped her red eyes again. She pulled the kerchief from her head, revealing her short, bright pink locks for all to see. Finn's mouth dropped open, but whatever he was thinking he bottled it.

"Anna's right," he said instead. "How do you think I feel? I'm in the Flaming Fist and I never noticed all this going on right under my nose. They're smart. It's what they do. But we'll find them, and we'll make them pay. As for the others...well. We'll just see what we see, alright, flower?"

He crouched down next to Imoen and gave her a hug. She squeezed him back but her expression didn't improve.

"I think I might go lie down for awhile," Anna sighed. "If that's alright."

"Sleep is not the worst idea. There is nothing else we can do now, regardless. Perhaps we could take shifts," Jaheira said.

"I'll sit up," Hull offered. "Don't think I could shut my eyes now anyway."

"I'm not tired, either," Imoen said.

"I'll go up with Anna, then," Finn replied. "I could use a bit of kip myself."

...

Anna didn't reply, but she had an odd wish that he would stay behind. She took a candle and they went in silence up to her bedchamber. The fire was out and the room was dark and cold. The lone candle threw a strange light, making the posts on the bed appear to shiver under the counterpane.

"This has been one hell of a trip home," Finn said, bolting the door behind them. "Don't know why we didn't visit sooner."

Anna said nothing. She lit the lamp by the bed then placed the candle on the small card table near the fireplace.

"You all right?" he asked.

"I don't see how I could be," she replied.

"Fair enough," he shrugged. "Listen though, if you don't really think it's me here then I can—"

"No, no," Anna interrupted. "I'm not sure it matters much now, anyway."

"Well. Let's just try to get a bit of sleep then, aye?"

The room was too cold to undress, and it was doubtful there was anyone left at the Candlekeep Inn who would care about the state of the sheets. Apart from their boots they slipped fully clothed under the embroidered coverlet, leaving the lamps burning. Finn tried wrapping his arm around Anna but she wormed away involuntarily.

"Right then," Finn said, a little harshly. "Goodnight. I suppose."

He rolled over rather deliberately and Anna felt that knot tightening in her stomach again.

"Finn..." she said. "Did you know? About the baby?"

"Don't see how I could," he replied without turning around. "Suzy never mentioned it, and I'm no mind reader."

"But she seemed to think you might," Anna persisted.

"Well, maybe thinking that just makes her feel better," Finn said. "She was bound to feel a bit of a fool for having the baby of a man who's not around. Better to think I scarpered. Gives her some dignity back."

"That's a terrible thing to say," she remarked.

"The truth's not always pretty," he said back.

"Would you have stayed, though, if you knew?"

Finn rolled over and looked at her, his face half-buried in the pillow.

"I didn't really have a choice in leaving, you know. Gorion just pulled me from the bunkhouse one night, and that was it."

"I know, but...if things were different."

Anna didn't know why she was carrying on with the question. It changed nothing. Finn began to look annoyed.

"What do you want me to say? That I've had stayed behind and played happy families? You know what, I probably would have married her. But I wouldn't have been too pleased with it. I never wanted to stay around here, much less be married to Suzy. She's a harpy, and no mistake."

"I'm not sure what you were doing with her in the first place if you thought so little of her," Anna said. "Or perhaps I do."

That tone of frost was fairly plain on her tongue. Finn scowled.

_"Aye. _Like the village pump, eh? Every maid around has had a pull," he scoffed. "Me and Suzy had our moments. But she was just too bloody opinionated for my liking, that's all."

"Don't care for women with opinions?" she said coolly.

"Putting words in my mouth, now? That's not what I mean, and you know it. Just that she'd already made up her mind on every subject going, and gods help you if you happened to disagree. I just ended up nodding my head along every time she opened her mouth. No point at all."

"But what about the _child?" _Anna said. "You are having a child together, no matter what you think of her."

"What about it? He'll be born, then grow up to hate me. Makes no difference if I was around or not."

Anna groaned and looked away. Finn propped himself up on his elbow.

"I'm sorry, did I say the wrong thing again?"

"You just act like you don't care at all," she replied.

"And what?" he snorted. "Alright—how would you feel if I was over the moon? I'm going to be a _daddy! _We'll settle down here, and you can look at my kid and the woman who had him every day of your life. They'll come round for tea every night. Maybe we can even share a house! Would you like that? Would that be better?"

"Oh, will you just stop being such an _ass?" _ she suddenly exclaimed. Anna threw back the covers and crawled out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Finn asked.

"I don't care. Anywhere," she blurted, trying to tug on her boots.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry," he said. "I just don't know what to say right now. And you're determined to pick me apart no matter what."

"And you give me no shortage of fuel, either. Would you just stop acting so...so..."

"Like me?" he said.

_"Yes."_

The word was sharper than she meant it to be. Anna sat on the floor staring blankly at her half-laced boots. She glanced up at Finn. He was sitting up in bed with his hands around his knees, looking at her with a grim expression.

"I'll try. But I've never been much use at that, love."

_"Oh,_ Finn. I'm sorry," she sighed.

It was a sigh of utter weariness. Finn didn't move from his perch on the bed. Anna kept staring at her boots as if she expected them to move, to do something. To offer her an answer. But they were the same battered and travel-stained boots that had marched her up and down the Sword Coast, and they had no comfort to offer. Slowly she undid the tangled laces and pulled them off, one after the other.

Silently she blew out the candle on the table then crawled back into bed. Finn blew out the lamp and total darkness settled into the room. Anna could feel Finn next to her. She could feel his warmth, the movement of his body as he breathed. But he might as well have been a thousand miles away. That rift she felt between them hadn't healed, and it only seemed to grow wider.

...

A knock on the door woke her. Anna didn't remember being asleep but her foggy head told her she must have been. Finn called out and Jaheira's voice answered.

"It is nearly dawn," she said.

The druid didn't really need to say anything else, and she didn't. Her footsteps retreated down the hallway and Finn slid out of bed with a groan. The air outside the blankets was even colder than last night and the icy air felt like an assault. A thin grey daylight penetrated the curtains giving just enough light to see.

Anna put her boots on by touch, and there was no more dressing to do. Neither of them spoke as they made their way to the kitchen.

The fire was up and a kettle was steaming over the coals. Imoen looked round from the pot but she didn't speak. She didn't look much better than the night before, and Anna wondered if she'd slept at all. Kivan was standing near the big table, a cup of wine in his hand.

"Ay up, mate," Finn said to him. "You been out?"

"Yes. The doppelgangers appear to have retreated into the fortress. Luedre and I encountered no one on our patrol," he said.

"No sign of Ulraunt, then?" Finn asked.

"None. It was foolish of him to venture back into the library alone. I only hope he has not come to harm."

"If he does, it's his own damn fault," Finn said. "Suits him for being so stubborn. But what about the others?"

"They were still in the cottage. The woman's condition has not changed, as far as I know. Luedre has stayed behind with them," the ranger said.

Anna let out a low sigh of relief; perhaps the medicine was helping. But that was only one problem of many.

"How's Khalid this morning?" Finn asked.

"B-better, thank you," the man himself said. He walked in slowly, leaning on the door frame for support. His torso was so well bandaged he looked like a corpse half-dressed for burial.

"I do wish you would return to bed," Jaheira said, following close on his heels.

"I will b-be well enough, thanks to you," Khalid replied, giving her a little smile.

A half-smile flickered over her face in return, but she still insisted that Khalid sit in a chair by the fire. He obeyed indulgently, although by his face he was happy to sit down.

"Well. How about a bit of breakfast? Don't know about the rest of you, but I could eat a horse," Finn said.

Imoen was about to reply, but before she could speak something happened. Anna couldn't describe it much better than that—a force like a shockwave burst through the kitchen walls like a blast of air through an open window. The dishes on the table and the jars on the shelves didn't move, but Anna felt it going through her body like a physical blow. She staggered and grabbed hold of the table for support.

_"What the—" _ Finn began, but he was interrupted by a scream down the hall.

Jaheira was closest to the door and she rushed to the library, the others in close pursuit. But by the time they all squeezed through the door there was nothing left but the corpse of a doppelganger lying on the floor, surrounded by several horrified guests.

"Looks like this fellow wasn't quite who he claimed to be," Hull said, sheathing his green-stained sword. "Lucky I was standing by, or all the hells would have broken loose."

"Aye, good on you, mate," Finn breathed.

"I should have guessed Master Folvar wasn't himself—I won that round of chess a little too easily," Firebead claimed. "That was quite the spell that tore through here. Not your doing by the look on your face, Mistress Anna?"

"No. Not me," she stammered in reply.

"A spell of reversal?" Jaheira remarked. "It must have been a powerful one indeed. I would wager this is Ulraunt's doing. I do not know how long it will last. We need to get to the library, _now!"_

There was a clamouring and a scurrying for arms and armour. Anna and Imoen stood in the entryway waiting for the others. They glanced at one another, but there was little to say. Before long the others were ready and they ventured out into the cold.

More snow had fallen in the night and the drifts were nearly up to Anna's knees. She lifted her skirts up as she floundered along, trying hard not to land on her rear as they rushed towards the library. The spell had summoned others too, and a pair of figures hurried towards them in the snow.

"That was a great turning," Xan panted, trying to catch his breath. "You felt it too, I assume."

"Yeah," Finn replied. "Looks like Ulraunt finally pulled his weight, no easy task for him."

"If these creatures have not shifted back, this may finally give us the chance we need to eliminate them," Luedre said.

"Is Suzy still in bed?" Anna asked.

"Yes," she replied. "The monk has remained behind to tend to her. Now come, there is little time to waste."

"Point the way," Hull said. "I haven't had a drop all night, and I've always got a temper when I'm sober! These things won't know what hit 'em."

"Damn right!" Finn replied. "Let's go."

The gate to the library was open and unguarded. The snow on the steps was fresh with no sign of tracks; whoever or whatever was in the library remained there still. They burst through the doors with a great clattering, making no attempt at stealth. The doppelgangers would certainly know the hunt was on.

"Split up, search all the floors," Jaheira said. "And take care—I hope this spell will last, but we must not count on it. Khalid, my love, perhaps you should remain here and guard the door."

"I will m-manage to k-keep up with you, have no f-fear," he said. "I have my armour on th-this time."

Khalid winked at her, and Jaheira looked almost surprised. But she gave him a resigned nod.

"As you would have it, then. But keep to the back, or you might not be able to dodge my mace!"

...

They split into two groups. Anna went with Finn to search the ground level while the other group hurried up the stairs.

"Fan out a bit," Finn said. "See if anyone's hiding in the shelves."

The walls of the Hall of Reference were covered with maps, showing details of far-off places like exotic Maztica or the scarce-explored jungles of Chult. They held little interest to Anna though as she scurried through like a mouse, trying to be silent as she could while clinging hard to her staff. But she saw no one hiding under any tables or behind any shelves.

"Empty, unless they have power to turn themselves invisible," Kivan said. "Let us see if we can find anyone on the next."

They found the great staircase again and ran panting up to the second floor. The rooms here were far larger with more hidden nooks and crannies, and with the lamps all dead the thin morning light made things difficult to see.

"Where do you suppose everyone is?" Imoen whispered to Anna. "I mean, there must be _somebody."_

Anna didn't reply. She prayed Imoen was right, that some of the monks survived the doppelgangers' intrigues and were left alive in that place. But a knife in the back from a comrade would be all too easy a death.

"I don't know. We'll just have to see if we find anyone," was all she managed to say.

She noticed Hull gesturing to Finn, and the two women hurried to see what he found. There in between the shelves lay the bodies of a monk and a doppelganger. The monk was slumped against the shelf but the doppelganger lay prostrate on the floor, its slick grey flesh turned black with fire. The surrounding books had been burned and the scorched smell hung in the air.

"It's Wulvis. At least he managed to defend himself," Finn remarked.

"Aye, but he's lucky he didn't set the whole place ablaze," Hull said. "Give me a blade over magic any day. Though I reckon he wasn't thinking too straight at the time, poor beggar."

"I don't think there's much else to see here," Finn said, rising up from the dead monk's side. "Hate to say it, but we really should get to Ulraunt. If he's the one who let this spell loose he might need a hand."

They hurried up the stairs heading towards Ulraunt's office. As they stumbled through the hallway though they found the way blocked. A doppelganger writhed in agony, clawing at his skin with those unnaturally long fingers. He turned towards them with eyes of a sickly pale blue and hissed.

_"You...humans. You unleashed this curse. Mrendle cannot change! I cannot...I cannot see within you!"_

"Nasty that, eh?" Finn said, drawing his sword. "But whatever pain you're in, expect a hundred times worse. You deserve every bit of it!"

_"Why, fool?" _The doppelganger hissed again. _"We make our nests the same as any creature in this world. The birds in the trees, the bear in her cave. We nest within you, and you let us in so easily."_

"So would say a parasite to its host," Kivan replied. "Do not attempt to justify yourself, _wethrinaer_. You are unnatural, and never meant to walk this earth. Your blight will be removed."

He had his bow trained on the fiend from the first, and without further word the elf let the arrow slip. It caught the doppelganger square in the eye. With barely a noise it fell backwards onto the rug, its body twitching like some grotesque puppet whose strings had been severed. Finn put his blade back in its scabbard.

"Nice shot," he said. "Kivan, mate—if you stay at my back I won't ever have a worry in the world."

Kivan didn't respond though his eyes looked pleased, a rather telling gesture for the taciturn elf. They left the doppelganger's corpse where it was and moved on again.

They found the Keeper's office without any further signs of monster or monk. But the door was wide open and no one was inside.

"Not here. Don't see any signs of a fight, though it's hard to tell in this place. He must have left. Where would he go?" Finn asked.

"A pity we can't track him in here," Anna remarked.

"Perhaps we can," Kivan said.

He kneeled down, his black eyes searching over the long carpet that ran the length of the hall. The ranger gestured with a finger, tracing the line of something that was hidden to Anna's sight.

"Dust," he said. "A trail of it comes from within the room. The man's clothes were filthy from his stay in the crypts, and there is just a trace of it on this rug. I can see the outlines of his shoes. He went this way."

"Where's he see that?" Hull muttered, peering down at the carpet. "Looks clean to me."

"We don't ask anymore. Just follow him!" Finn replied.

Kivan set off in the lead, staying crouched near the ground as he pursued his quarry. Swiftly he led them through the hall and into another passage, one leading up through the towers of the keep. The carpet ended but Kivan still managed somehow to stay on the scent.

"These are the monks' sleeping quarters," Finn said quietly. "I had a chamber up here before I moved to the bunkhouse. What's he doing up here? Can't think he just decided to have a kip."

"I don't know, but he isn't alone!" Imoen whispered. "Listen!"

Two men's voices could be heard up ahead. They were raised and angry. Anna recognised Ulraunt's bellowing but the other was harder to make out. The group pressed forward and the argument became clear.

_"Just hand it over, now!" _ Ulraunt demanded.

_"No," _ the other voice replied. _"The stone will be staying with me, I am afraid."_

_ "Then you won't be leaving here alive!"_

Ulraunt sounded angry, near to a frenzy. Whoever he was arguing with it seemed like a battle was close at hand. Finn found the chamber and jumped in without asking any leave. Anna peered around the door and was surprised to see none other than Perthwaite, or Perorate as his true name seemed to be.

"We have guests, Ulraunt," Perorate said.

He seemed remarkably calm considering the circumstances. Ulraunt faced him with a staff, his puffy face red in anger. Anna glanced around the chamber quickly. There was little to see in the monk's cell—a rough bed stood in one corner, it lone wool blanket surely not warmth enough for the fireless room. A desk and a bookshelf were the only other furnishings. Ulraunt didn't take his eyes from Perorate.

"Finally decided to show yourselves, eh?" he said to the newcomers. "Well, stand back. This thieving bastard is going to get a mouthful of flame any moment."

"What's he got?" Finn asked.

_"The stone, the stone!" _ Ulraunt bellowed again. "We're helpless without it!"

"Stone?" Imoen said.

"The Stone of Stillness, to be precise," Perorate said. He reached into his robe pocket and drew out an unassuming-looking crystal the size of a walnut. "It is what maintains the barrier that prevents teleportation from within Candlekeep. I knew the Keeper had it within his office. Rather foolish of you, to be sure."

"No one in their right mind would go rooting around in _my _office," Ulraunt claimed. "That place is warded up to the planes!"

"Perhaps you are correct," Perorate said. "Or perhaps you should concern yourselves instead with ridding this place of its doppelganger infestation. My spell will not last forever."

_"You _did this?" Finn asked, surprised. "Why in all the hells would you want to help us?"

"Consider it a parting gift. I never wanted to work with these creatures, that was Master Sarevok's decision. But to see such a beacon of knowledge as Candlekeep overrun by this vile pestilence is too much for any true scholar."

"Yet you'd leave us entirely defenceless?" Ulraunt snorted. "So much for charity."

"Yes, I do apologise. It is nothing more than a token gesture in the end. The fate of this coast is sealed in the ink used by the great seer who lies entombed below. There is nothing any of us can do now," Perorate said dreamily. "The blood will soon begin to flow like the sea, washing along this coast in an unstoppable wave."

"Again with that," Finn said. "Is that what Sarevok had planned all along? A war with Amn? All this time we've been banging our heads trying to figure out what he was up to, and it was just the obvious after all."

"But what is it _for?"_ Anna spoke. "Sarevok is a Grand Duke now. What good could it possibly do him to see this coast laid waste? He'd lose all the power he's been scheming for, and most likely his own life as well."

"You would be correct, good lady, if his goals were that of some common grasper at the throne," Perorate replied. "But there is rather more to it than that. If only I had time to discuss it with you, but I must be elsewhere. I will say this before I go—demand from Ulraunt your inheritance. That is all."

With those words he fixed Finn with a look. Perorate's fingers ran over the stone in his grasp and it began to glow. Ulraunt cried out, but before any of them could act he vanished in a flash of light.

_"Blast, tarnation, damn it all!" _ The Keeper exclaimed.

"He's gone, then," Imoen gasped. "At least he didn't attack. So he's got this stone, is it really that important? Who's going to bother invading this place, anyway? Amn won't care about us."

"Other than an army of doppelgangers, you mean?" Ulraunt snapped. "Think, girl. What we have here is worth more than gold to those with the brains to use it. We have books no one is allowed to see—magic tomes of twisted power, keys to lost languages that are better off dead, hidden histories that could bring down empires. We're not some lending library that keeps bored housewives up to their necks in tripey romances. We're isolated for a reason."

"But this Perorate took none of these things with him?" Kivan said.

"No," Ulraunt breathed. "That's not what he was looking for."

"So what was it?" Finn asked. "He told me to ask for my inheritance. We're in Gorion's chamber, too. That can't be a coincidence."

Anna looked up in surprise. Finn scowled at Ulraunt and the Keeper's expression was no warmer.

"Never mind that now, lad. We've got more important things to see to. Perorate said I wasn't the only one the doppelgangers were keeping hostage in the crypts. We need to get down there and free them!"

"Alright," Finn said, sheathing his blade. "But afterwards I think we're going to have a little talk."

...

Ulraunt didn't reply, and instead pushed past them like a bowling ball determined to knock over a row of skittles. They followed him from Gorion's chamber back down the numerous steps. Jaheira and the others were waiting on the stairs.

"There you are. Have you found any trace of doppelgangers?" she asked.

"Killed one, found another dead," Finn replied. "And we had another little encounter, as well. What about you?"

"None living. We discovered the bodies of two monks simply shoved under a desk," Jaheira said angrily. "But no doppelgangers were to be seen."

"These things were determined to wipe out my entire keep," Ulraunt spat, barely stopping to slow down. "Spiteful, spiteful beasts. But with luck we might find some still alive in the crypts."

"Why would the doppelgangers keep anyone alive?" Imoen asked. "Do you think..."

Her voice sounded almost hopeful. Ulraunt spoke back to her, not slowing as he tumbled down the steps with his filthy robe hitched to his knees.

"Because they need us. Robbing someone's mind isn't an easy job, not even for these things. If someone's useful enough they'll keep them alive and keep feeding on them, like any old bloodsucker. Let's just hope we find someone!"

The crypts were the last place Anna wanted to see again, but dutifully she went in with the others. They hurried about with torches, calling out and listening for any response within the tombs. At last Anna did hear something, a faint scratching or crying from within a stone coffin.

"Here!" she cried out. "Someone is in here!"

Together Finn and Hull pushed back the heavy stone lid. A choking sob emerged from inside, and Finn helped a grey-haired woman to her feet.

"Easy now, we got you," he said, trying to calm her.

"Phlydia!" Ulraunt exclaimed. "Never thought I'd be so happy to see you, you daft old bat. Are you much hurt?"

"No...no master, at least I don't think... Oh, my, I need to sit down!" the woman rambled. "Where...where are those creatures?"

"Dead. Don't worry. Just try to take it easy," Finn told her.

"Oh, young Finnigan! It is good to see you again," Phlydia remarked. "Have you come back to stay with us? I'll make some of my nut cakes and mulled wine, and we can have a nice little chat. Although, perhaps..."

"Aye. Later," he said, a little grin on his face. "Hull, can you take her up to the library? See if she needs anything."

"Will do," Hull replied. "Come on, missus. Have you got any of that wine around? Could use a drop or two myself!"

The guard took her arm, and the woman began chatting with him about Turmish spice traders. Hull nodded along, though he looked somewhat confused by her cheeriness and choice of subject matter. The discovery seemed to lift all their spirits though and they set out looking for other survivors.

...

But although they scoured the tombs only three more monks were discovered alive. They pulled the cover from the sarcophagus of the last and a familiar face emerged.

"Tethtoril, by Oghma's Harp!" Ulraunt said. "I am glad to find you. I thought those things would have done you in for certain."

_"I do think...they tried,"_ he rasped. _"Water...have you any water? Days now, forever...no water..."_

They had no drink to offer him, but Jaheira had a potion of healing in her grasp. She gave it to the monk and he emptied the bottle fast as a wink.

_"Master, they...they know. I think they know. May the gods help me..." _ Tethtoril said.

The monk seemed on the verge of tears, whether for his miraculous release or something else. He grasped at Ulraunt's hands and the Keeper squeezed them firmly.

"Don't worry about that now. What's done is done," he told him. "Let's focus on getting this place put back to rights first, eh? We need to get this lad back up to the library, now!"

"But what about..." Imoen began. "There must be someone else left down here! We can't just leave."

"Keep on looking then," Ulraunt said. "But I need to talk with Tethtoril. Let me know if you find anyone else."

Tethtoril clung on the Keeper, his thin frame easily supported by Ulraunt's bulk. The two retreated towards the surface and the others stood looking at one another.

"There must be someone else," Imoen said again. "Come on! Let's keep looking."

"Alright, flower," Finn said slowly. "We'll look. Here, why don't the rest of you head back up, too. There might still be doppelgangers on the loose up there."

"Yes, a good idea," Jaheira said. "We will speak with you soon."

Finn must have known who Imoen was searching for as much as Anna did. It seemed a hopeless endeavour, but they stayed with the girl as they went throughout the dead halls, calling and listening in turn. If any were left alive in that crypt, however, they did not reveal themselves.

"There must be, there must be," Imoen muttered to herself.

"They're gone, flower," Finn sighed. "If they were alive..."

"Don't say that!" Imoen suddenly cried. The echo of her words bounced off the stone then fell strangely flat at their feet. "Others were alive. They could still be here too."

"Well, why don't we take a little break?" he suggested. "We should see what's going on up top."

"No, you go on. I'll keep searching here," she replied.

"On your own?" Anna asked.

"If I need to," Imoen said sharply. "I won't abandon them. Winthrop, he _raised _me. He was like...like my father. Even if he's...gone...I won't leave him here. I just can't!"

"I didn't want to leave Gorion, either. But in the end there wasn't anything else to do," Finn said quietly.

Imoen frowned and her mouth pursed up tight.

"It's happening all over again, isn't it?" she whispered. "Someone is always out to get us."

"Don't say that," Finn said turn. "It's just bad luck. We got in Anchev's way somehow, and so did a lot of other folks. But we'll get him for this. He won't get away with it. Now, let's go. Let's get out of here for now. We can come back in awhile."

Slowly Imoen nodded, though Anna could tell she wanted to stay. Anna felt pain for her—now she must truly feel like an orphan. It was something she could understand. Even though her own father died when she was a grown woman, Anna had felt that loss as keenly as if she'd still been a child. There was no age to compensate for the loss of a parent.

The keep above had a strange stillness about it, like a fairy tale when a spell of sleep had been cast. The torches and lamps stood lifeless in the library and the cloudy daylight made everything seem grey, and drained of colour. Imoen and Anna set off towards the doors but they paused as Finn moved towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Imoen asked.

"Ulraunt. I'm going to have a word," he replied.

"Now?" Anna remarked. "But we have other things. Suzy..."

She was reluctant to mention the maid after their argument the night before, but she couldn't be ignored. Finn paused on the step.

"You go and see to her, then. I wouldn't be much welcome there."

"Finn..." Anna began.

"Come with me, won't you?" he suddenly said.

"Yes, if you want," she said slowly. "Imoen, can you...?"

"Yeah," Imoen replied, half-heartedly.

...

Anna hated leaving the girl alone but didn't feel that she could refuse Finn's offer, either. Slowly she followed him through the empty library. Their boots seemed to make an impossible noise in the corridors—was it really so loud, or was it only her ears? Even the sound of her own throat swallowing was painful. They reached Ulraunt's office and Finn rapped briefly on the door.

"What is it?" Ulraunt said sharply.

The door was open, and inside they could see the Keeper nearly buried up to his neck in miscellaneous papers. He glanced at them and looked back down again.

Finn didn't speak, and after an awkward pause Anna broke in.

"We didn't find anyone else in the crypt, sir."

"Tragic news, but not very surprising," Ulraunt replied. "We're going to need to tunnel a new wing in that place after all this."

"How many monks lived here?" she asked.

"Over a score, with guards and other attendants besides. That less than a handful of us seem to be left alive is unbelievable. _How _could I let this happen?"

Ulraunt suddenly slammed the papers down onto his desk, mashing them up in his great fists. His breathing was heavy and wheezed through his nose like a broken bellows.

"Try not to blame yourself," Anna stammered, surprised. "These doppelgangers were—"

"I wasn't talking about the doppelgangers, girl," he said angrily. "And I think the pair of you should leave my sight."

Anna's mouth still hung open, unsure of what to say in the face of his hostility. Finn though suddenly spoke.

"That bloke mentioned an inheritance. What is it of mine that you have?" he asked.

Ulraunt's wheezing grew louder. His fists didn't move from the desk but his eyes raised to Finn.

"Of yours? Nothing. Not one damn thing. You already took everything of value, and lost it."

"He was in Gorion's chamber, that can't be by chance," Finn persisted. "What did he mean?"

"Oh, why ask me?" Ulraunt muttered. He sat down hard and began roughly pulling out the creases in the parchment. "Is it gold you want? We have some in the coffers. Take whatever grabs your fancy, with my compliments."

"No, I don't want bloody gold!" Finn almost shouted. "This Anchev, the one who started all this. He came after me_. _Right here, before I'd even set foot out into the world. He killed Gorion, but he was after _me. _And now he sends all his minions back here, looking for something. It's something to do with this place, isn't it? Something that's buried here."

"You can see what's going to be buried here, lining the walls as we speak," Ulraunt grumbled.

Finn scowled. "This thing Perorate mentioned...is it something Anchev is looking for, too?"

"That would seem obvious," the Keeper replied.

"Well, it's not fucking obvious to me!" Finn bellowed. "Just..._stop_. Stop all this bullshite. Gorion lied to me, I know that now. I wasn't some orphan he picked up in Baldur's Gate. What...what in the _hells _does Anchev want with this place? With _me? _You must know. Tell me that and I'll leave here forever."

Ulraunt rose up once more from his desk, an imperious man-mountain of glowing rage.

"You will leave here now, regardless!" he shouted. "You have no right to demand anything from me. Lousy, good for nothing bastard whelp. It was against my better judgement that you were ever allowed within a mile of these gates. I knew. I knew the moment I saw you. _The curse has come upon me. _But I respected Gorion enough that I let him try his little experiment. And look where it got us."

Finn and Anna both stared at the man, with entirely different expressions.

"What experiment? _Fatherhood?" _Anna said, dumbfounded by his tirade.

"Why do you ask? I imagine you've already seen it in action. But we're done with you now. Out, away. I want you and all your brood gone by nightfall! Take your curse and leave," Ulraunt commanded.

Finn began to reply but Anna somehow managed to drag him from the room. He had his revenge on the door, slamming it so hard behind him Anna thought the wood might snap in two. But there was no answering volley from within, and Finn stood seething in the hall.

_"He...I don't..."_

"There's no blood like bad blood," Anna muttered, unsure of what to say. "Just...never mind. We'll go. Ulraunt is right on one thing—there really isn't anything else we can do here."

_"Kill him. Rip apart that fat throat, pull his guts right out of his..."_

"Finn!" Anna exclaimed.

His eyes had that strange black look about them, and for one horrible moment she feared he actually meant what he said.

_"No. He won't give it to me, then take it!"_

He almost seemed to forget about her entire existence. Anna stared at him, frightened and confused.

"Finn?" she said quietly.

Very slowly she reached out and touched his arm. At first he didn't react, but when he became aware of her presence Finn jumped like her touch was made of ice.

_"What..."_ he muttered.

"Finn, you just said..." she began.

"Said what? Gods, it's blazing in here," he remarked. "Ulraunt had that fire up a little high for my liking. _Tethtoril. _Of course! Why waste time on that fat git? Tethtoril will help. Come on, he's probably in his chamber."

Without further word he headed off towards the sleeping quarters. Anna could only stare at him, unsure of what just happened. But then she scurried away and caught up with him quickly.

...

The door to Tethtoril's chamber was closed, but Finn knocked quietly.

"He might be asleep. Feel bad waking him up, but I'm not going to get much chance to talk otherwise," he said.

But there was an answering call and Finn opened the door. Tethtoril was indeed tucked into bed, though how much comfort that gave him Anna couldn't say. His cell was no more homelike than Gorion's chamber had been.

_"Finnigan,"_ Tethtoril said, reaching for the spectacles that sat on the bedside table. "Has something happened?"

"No, sir," Finn replied. "I'm sorry to disturb you right now. Did you need anything?"

"No, no," the monk said, his voice still sounding raspy. "Ulraunt has seen to my needs. But did you want something? There is a strange look on your face."

"Not too surprising. The master and me just had it out," Finn said ruefully. "He wants to send us all packing by tonight, though I don't know who's going to force us out."

_"Ah," _Tethtoril said, and pulled himself up in bed.

"Is there not a room with a fire for you, sir?" Anna asked. "It feels terribly cold in here, if you don't mind my saying."

A little smile flickered over his shrunken cheeks. "No, no. I am used to it. But what were you and Ulraunt fighting about? This really isn't a good time to poke the old bear, Finnigan," he chided.

Finn groaned a little. "It sounds so stupid now. You know what me and him are like, can't be alone in the same room without getting into a spat."

"Quite. Please though, sit down. There is a chair there, young woman. Finnigan, you may sit on the end of the bed, if you take care not to crack my old bones. There's a crock on the desk there, if you like."

Finn smiled, and the remaining traces of blackness seemed to fade from his face. He pulled the cork from the jar and offered it to Anna. Reluctantly she dipped in, but she smiled too after pulling out a red and white ribbon of peppermint candy.

"I thought you didn't care for these much," Finn remarked.

"Oh, I've developed a taste for them," Tethtoril replied. "After you left I had quite the stock sitting around doing nothing, so I sampled them a bit. Dear Vera was excellent with her boiled sweets."

"Aye," Finn said grimly. "Imoen's not taking that too well."

"I should expect not," the monk sighed. "But please, dear boy, tell me what is on your mind. But—could I trouble you for a glass of wine first?"

Finn fetched the monk a draught then sat down on the bed, mulling over a strip of candy.

"It's something that Perorate fellow said, just before he disappeared. He told me to ask Ulraunt for my inheritance. But when I mentioned it to Ulraunt he blew up in my face."

Anna thought the monk went even paler, and the goblet shuddered slightly in his grasp.

"I see," Tethtoril said.

"He was in Gorion's chamber, even. What was he doing in there? Do you know anything about this?" Finn asked.

He looked at Tethtoril with imploring eyes. The monk drew a long, shaking sigh and stared into his wine.

"I don't... No. Ulraunt might hate me, but I can live with that. But you, boy—I'm afraid you're not quite sure what you're asking for. What do you think that it is?"

"Search me," Finn shrugged. "But all the roads have led back here. Sarevok Anchev wanted something here, something from me maybe even. I never had a thing in the world, and Gorion didn't either, as far as I know. But there must be _something. _Perorate wouldn't mention it otherwise."

"Yes," Tethtoril mused. "Some things are worth more than gold, and weigh far, far more. But Gorion had nothing of material value. The only things left were his personal papers."

"Were they in his room?" Finn asked.

"They were...but Ulraunt took them all after his death. He burned them."

"Who gave him the right to do that?" Finn demanded.

"Calm yourself, Ulraunt only did as Gorion requested. Some things were not meant to be seen, not by you, or anyone. Gorion was not just an ordinary servant of Oghma like the rest of us, as I'm sure you know. He had ties and connections to things elsewhere, very important things. And even in the shelter of Candlekeep there can be prying eyes."

"So what then, there's nothing?" he said, frustrated.

"No, there was...something. Gorion gave it to me years ago for safekeeping. He wasn't a young man, and he feared that someday Oghma's harp might call him home. If he died suddenly there were things he didn't want left unsaid. I've kept it safe, but I never did think I would need it," Tethtoril said quietly. "There, in the bottom drawer of my desk. The letter sealed in purple wax."

Finn rose quickly from the bed, and after rooting through the monk's papers for a moment drew out a sealed letter. It was plump with folded parchment, and the name _Finnigan _was written on the front in faded ink. With shaking hands Finn broke open the seal and began to read.

Anna watched his face. He looked sad at first, then began to look confused. He flipped through the pages of the letter absently and his eyes grew red with tears.

"He says he loves me, here at the end," Finn choked. "He never said that to me in life."

Anna smiled a little and squeezed his shoulder. Finn drew a breath and continued.

"He says...he says my mother was an old friend of his, a lover even. I can't imagine Gorion with a lover! Her name was Alianna. She...got sick, and died. She didn't have anyone else so she begged him to raise me. Something about my birth shaming her family. Guess I really am a bastard after all, eh?" he laughed. "No mention at all of my father. But there's nothing...nothing at all that could tell me why all this was happening. Still...if this is my inheritance, then it's a pretty good one. Thanks."

Tethtoril had been watching Finn as he read with a surprising intensity, but his drawn face relaxed into a smile.

"Yes...yes. Gorion always was wise. If there is nothing else, then take that knowledge with you," he said.

"Aye. I will. But we'd better let you get some rest. Ulraunt has probably cooled off by now and forgotten all about us. Still, we can't stay here too long. There's things we need to settle. I'll talk to you again before we leave," Finn said. "Thank you, Tethtoril. You've always been a good one."

The thin monk smiled in return, but it faded away quickly. Anna and Finn left him to his rest.

"How about that?" Finn said as they walked down the hall. "I have a mother now. _Alianna. _It's almost like your name. I wonder who she was? Where she lived? I never heard of her before."

"I don't know," was all Anna could say.

"Maybe Khalid or Jaheira know. Gorion was in the Harpers, maybe my mother was connected with them in some way."

"It's possible," she replied.

"Here, do you want to read it?" Finn offered, passing her the letter. "I want to have a look in Gorion's room, just for old time's sake."

Anna smiled a little and took the parchment. Her eyes glanced over a few lines but she felt uncomfortable reading the spidery script, like it was an intrusion onto Gorion's privacy. She followed Finn up to Gorion's chamber and sat by the desk as he looked around.

"Strange. I can almost see him in here," Finn said, low. "I used to sit at the end of that bed there when I was a little lad. My legs weren't even long enough to reach the floor. I used to watch him scratching away with his quill for hours on end, making marks in his books. I always wondered what was so interesting that it kept him from going outside to play!"

He laughed and Anna joined in. Finn leaned up against a wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Still, I don't know why he couldn't have told me all this before. Why make up the story of the orphanage?"

"Maybe he was worried you'd try and track your mother down?" Anna said.

"But she was dead."

"True, but she had family. And by the sounds of it, family that wouldn't appreciate an illegitimate son appearing on their step. Who knows. Maybe Gorion was right to protect you."

"Yeah. Maybe," he mused. "Maybe I really have got an inheritance coming to me. I could be _rich. _What do you think of that, eh? I'll buy you a castle or two."

Finn winked at her and she couldn't help smiling.

"Only two? _Feh. _And here I thought you might be someone impressive."

"Hey. Wouldn't it be something if it turned out Anchev and me were related?" he quipped.

"Don't even say that," Anna said quickly.

"It would explain why he came after me," Finn said.

"Why, because you were secretly Rieltar's son and he was afraid of losing his position?" she said. "Sarevok is older than you anyway, and it's usually the first born who inherits. It doesn't seem very likely."

"No, I suppose not," he agreed. "Well, why don't you let me have a look at that desk there. No matter what Tethtoril said, I'm going to see if there's anything left. Gorion had a few hidey-holes that Ulraunt wouldn't know about!"

...

"Alright," Anna said, and relocated to the foot of the bed while Finn began rooting through the empty desk. With nothing else to do her eyes turned back to the parchment in her hands. Strange, all these tales about the dead. It was nearly the Feast of the Moon, a time when folk gathered during the darkest part of the winter to share stories of those who had passed. It was a tradition carried on all across Faerun, in all the lands; there seemed to be something instinctive about remembering the dead at that time, when the sun was cold and nature at her rest. Family histories had been preserved that way for generations.

Anna remembered hearing their own tales as the household gathered around the great fireplace in the manor hall. Family and servants alike sipped mead and feasted on roast boar as they listened to the speakers tell stories filled with bravery and humour—how great-great grandfather Jony scared a giant bear away from his beehives with nothing but a stick and an old copper pot, or the time great-aunt Ionina spent months weaving a prized tapestry, only to use it to extinguish a fire that had erupted in her kitchen. In her pride she still took it to the autumn fair where it won top prize based on what little was left.

These were Anna's legacy, tales of people she never knew or could only barely remember. She wondered what tales Gorion might have to tell. Certainly greater deeds than her own humble country folk, but not any better for it, she thought.

She glanced up at Finn, but then her eyes were drawn back to the parchment. The ink on the paper was black, but something else was emerging slowly—another script, this one in purple. It crossed the lines of the letter making it hard to read. Some magic, Anna thought, triggered by Finn's own touch? She held it up to the light, confused, and without thinking began to read.

But the words made no sense. It was a trick, surely, some strange joke. A short, pained cry escaped her mouth, and she clung to the parchment as if it had been burned into her flesh. Finn turned back to her with a puzzled expression on his face.

"You all right there? What's the matter?"

Anna couldn't speak. She stared at him with a look that could only be given to a stranger. Tears flowed into her eyes, but she wasn't crying. The very air around her seemed to grow heavy and she struggled to breathe.

"What's wrong?" Finn asked again, this time growing concerned.

He went to sit next to her, but Anna jumped up with a shriek.

_"No...you...get away!"_

"What, what do you mean?" he exclaimed. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? It's me, really it is. It's only me."

Finn reached out his hands imploringly, but Anna backed up, stumbling hard against the door frame.

"No. No, you can't be," she gasped. "It's not right. It's not the truth."

_"What?" _ he demanded.

Anna suddenly threw Gorion's letter at him and the crumpled pages fluttered down to the floor. Finn stooped to pick them up, his mouth still open in confusion.

"What the hells are you doing? I don't—"

But he paused. His eyes ran over the enchanted script and he stopped, caught half-way between rising and kneeling. Finn strained over the words like a man with dimmed sight.

"I don't...that's not..."

_"No,"_ Anna breathed.

"That just isn't right," Finn said.

He looked up at her crunched against the door frame, a strange, imploring look on his face. Anna couldn't respond.

"That's _not," _he said, and tears began to flow down his cheeks. "Anna—"

Finn reached for her again, but her reflexes were on a hair trigger. She leaped back and ran blindly down the hall. She fled down the great steps, taking two at a time, only by some miracle not slipping and breaking her neck. Anna could hear Finn's voice behind her, calling, but it was only like a dream. Nothing around her was real, and she fled with the instinct of a mouse running from a cat.

Anna burst into the cold courtyard. The snow was falling again from the grey sky, a thick, heavy snow that gathered on her clothes before it could melt. She ignored it though, still running blindly, stumbling and slipping over the ground. Anna noticed by chance the great drawbridge was open, and she ran right out of the keep.

...

_"Anna!" _Finn's voice still called, but she ignored it. Onwards she ran. Her eyes were red from exertion and her heart felt fit to burst, but still she ran. She needed to run. She needed to get away. That horrible beast of a letter was behind, and as long as she was running it couldn't catch her.

Once outside the keep walls the full blast of the storm hit her in the face. A great gust of wind rose up from the sea, whipping her cloak around her and nearly pushing her off her feet. The snow was driven like shot and it stung her face where it struck. She could see nothing at all, only a solid wall of whirling white.

Finn's voice was behind her still, nearer now than it had been. Anna made another push at speed, forcing her dead legs to move through the snow. The wind was screaming in her ears, angry that she was getting so far. A great blow struck her though and she felt herself pushed to the ground. Finn was on top of her and struggled to hold her against her flailing.

_"No! No! Let me go!" _Anna shrieked.

She kicked out against him and Finn swore. Somehow she managed to free herself from him. She struggled to her knees, then somehow found her feet. She began to run again but Finn caught her once more, driving her down to the ground.

_"Stop it!" _he shouted into the storm. _"Stop, now!"_

_ "Let me go!" _Anna screamed back.

She clutched and clawed at his face like a demented woman. Finn struggled with her, his red face twisted in anger. Anna screamed and lashed out once more, catching him across the face with her fingernails. He swore and struck at her with the back of his hand.

The blow dazed her, draining what little energy she had left. She could only cry out helplessly for him to let her go.

_"No!"_ Finn shouted in her ear. _"You were heading right for the cliff!"_

Anna froze, gasping, and looked over her shoulder at where he was pointing. There, just a few yards from where they lay she could see a slight horizon, a difference in colour between the white of the snow and the grey of the sky. She had nearly run right off the edge.

_"Anna," _Finn said desperately.

His face was red, mingled sweat with tears. He hovered over her almost as if they were about to kiss, but the distance seemed too much for him. He reached out instead, caressing her bruised cheek with trembling fingertips.

"Please don't," he begged quietly. "Please, just...say something. Anything. Please."

"I don't..." she gasped. "I can't..."

Anna couldn't speak. Her lungs were on fire and they racked painfully from the sobs that struggled to free themselves from her chest. All around the whiteness fell in a rush, covering the pair of them as they lay in the bed of snow. If they lay still it would cover them forever.

"I love you," Finn whispered.

Anna broke down entirely, giving way to her fractured sobs. She took Finn in her arms and he lay pressed against her, heavy and still as if he'd been a corpse. He didn't move, didn't speak, only wrapped her in a tight embrace as the snow drifted them over.

...

_Ndengina ta-_ Kill it  
_Wethrinaer- _Deceitful one

Author's Note: Normally I don't point out the many thefts in my writing, but I have to admit the scene with the two Finns was heavily inspired by an episode of Red Dwarf! :-)


	106. Truth

_This is another long one! There is in fact more of this, but it was getting too long so I decided to draw a line under the chapter. Guess that's what happens when you spend months tinkering! I'll try to get more up soon as I can manage._

_..._

The heat from her exertion faded and the cold of the storm began to sink into Anna's bones. Sweat covered her body and she shivered hard, but it wasn't entirely from the cold.

_"Anna,"_ Finn called to her again.

He tried to rise and she looked at him. His hair was loose from its braid and the long black length of it whipped in the wind. The snow melted against the heat of his skin, and his red cheeks were entirely wet. He did not look like a person on good terms with sanity just then, but Anna was little different.

"We need to get up," Finn muttered. "We...should go indoors."

She didn't reply. The squall had lessened somewhat and she could see the grey form of Candlekeep rising up behind him. Suddenly her body shook violently.

_"Can't..." _she said weakly.

"Come on, we need to go," he repeated.

She tried to say something but her tongue felt too thick. Her body wouldn't stop shaking. Finn staggered up to his feet. He looked around, dazed, then reached down to Anna.

"Let's go," he said.

Anna could see his hand, but she couldn't reach for it. Her body was frozen, or perhaps she didn't really want to take his hand. Either way she remained still in the snow. Finn's red face started to look angry again.

"Look..._I'm sorry_...but we need to...can't stay out here," he chattered.

Anna still didn't move. Strange that her body began to feel light, as if she were floating on the snow. It wasn't so cold anymore. Above her Finn began to look blurry, though it might have been a trick of the falling snow.

_"Just come on!" _he shouted.

He dived down at her, nearly falling back to his knees. With a grunt he hoisted Anna over his shoulder gently as if she'd been a sack of potatoes. The movement brought back pain but Anna had lost the ability to cry out.

Finn started towards the keep with slow, jerking steps. He stumbled now and then but somehow managed to stay on his feet. Anna's arms hung limp down his back. She stared at her hands, dangling there lifeless and dull. They belonged to someone else, they must. She could feel nothing in them. Her entire body was numb.

_"Just...just a little further,"_ she heard Finn say, though she might have dreamed it. The snow around them whirled into the void, endless, and for a moment Anna imagined they'd been sucked up into the sky. There was no difference between land and air, only the harsh jerk of Finn's footfalls as he struggled through the snow. But even that began to grow dim as Anna's eyes drifted shut.

_"Wake up!"_

Anna gasped as the pain came again. She looked around in confusion—Finn was leaning over her, his face framed in white. She was upside down—no, lying down. She was on her back in the snow.

_"What..." _she managed.

_"Wake up," _he said again. _"Don't fall asleep!"_

Vaguely Anna began to understand. She was cold, too cold. If she fell asleep, she wouldn't wake up again. She tried to move but her limbs were dead to her. Finn pulled her up by her arms and Anna cried out, certain they would rip from their sockets. But her arms stayed attached and together they struggled again towards the keep.

As they neared the drawbridge Anna noticed several blurred figures rushing towards them in the snow. One grabbed her and she heard Jaheira's sharp voice in her ear.

"What are you doing out here?" she demanded. "We have been searching high and low for you!"

"We just...Anna's cold," Finn replied.

His words said more than he meant them to. Every part of her felt dead, numb. Anna had no heat left inside of her. It was all gone, lost to the snow. Jaheira cursed and looked at Anna's blue hands.

"Are you utter fools? Running out into a snowstorm without even a pair of mitts? Never mind. Get her to the inn, _now_. And you as well, Finn. You cannot be faring much better."

"I'm all right. Just give me a bit of whiskey, I'll be fine."

"I do not think so," Jaheira said. "But here, Kivan, help me."

For the first time Anna noticed Kivan. He followed Jaheira's lead and took her by the arm. She couldn't see who the other figure was, and it didn't interest her at all. Everything was too vague. Sleep kept lapping at her in warm waves, inviting her to escape from the cold.

Her legs stopped working and she slipped towards the ground, only to find herself borne along through the air. Anna looked up at Kivan's face and realised the elf must be carrying her. His expression didn't move, his eyes focused on their destination. Somehow Anna imagined that she could see centuries hidden behind that smooth rock face.

...

A clattering startled her from her dream. Anna looked around; they were in the kitchen of the inn. Imoen was there, hastily putting a kettle over an iron grate to heat. Jaheira stood Anna in from of the fire and began tugging and pulling at her frozen clothes.

"We must get her out of these," she said.

Anna's clothes were stiff with ice and it fell melting in shards onto the floor. Imoen reached over to help, and Anna thought her face was as pale as her own. Jaheira though only barked at her.

"Leave this to me. Fetch blankets, girl, now! As many as you can carry."

"Alright," Imoen muttered, and fled the scene.

Jaheira kept tugging at her harshly, stripping away her dress and her sodden wool under layers. The big fire crackled mere feet from Anna's bare skin but she could feel none of its warmth.

_"Cold," _she said, forcing the word out through her thickened tongue. She was too cold, too stiff, her body refused to even shiver. Her limbs were blue and corpse like, not part of a living flesh.

"Not white, at least," Jaheira panted, examining her hands and feet quickly. "What in Silvanus' name were you doing out there? Damn, where is that girl? _Imoen! Be swift!"_

Anna's legs could barely support her and they suddenly collapsed, driving her down to the stone floor with a jolt. Jaheira kneeled down beside her, but rather than try to pull her up she wrapped her arms around her instead.

"Here," she said. "Be warm. Be warm."

"I can't feel the heat," Anna whispered. "Too cold."

Nothing could break that ice, not the heat of the fire nor the warmth of Jaheira's arms around her. It was too strong. Suddenly a choking sob escaped her lips and she shuddered.

"That's good," Jaheira reassured her. "Shivering is a sign your body is growing warm again. Don't resist it."

"No..."

It wasn't the cold; it was something else. Anna remembered that letter. Emblazoned onto her brain like a rune of fire, she couldn't escape it. _Those words. _No, it wasn't true. It couldn't be true. _Your mother raped. Your father... Child of Bhaal._

_ "No!" _she suddenly screamed. In her surprise Jaheira let her go.

"Anna, what is it?" she asked. "You are safe now, we will get you warm."

_"No, it's..." _Anna began. She had no words to continue. Only the ones that kept repeating over and over in her head mattered at all.

"Did I tell you of the time Khalid and I were caught in a snowstorm in the Marching Mountains?" Jaheira began. "Silvanus knows what we were doing there—I cannot remember our mission now. But we happened upon a caravan of merchants who were also trapped by the snow. We could build no fire, and we convinced them that the only way to stay warm was by curling up together. Khalid spent the entire night next to a burly fellow who cuddled him like a child with a doll! He does not much care for me to tell that story."

Jaheira laughed a little to herself. Her tale was intended as a distraction but Anna found it meaningless. Imoen finally arrived and the two women began cocooning her in blankets.

"This is what I could find," Imoen said quickly. "Finn's upstairs, he won't come down. He says he's all right, but I..."

She glanced up, but her words were broken off by Anna's scream. Finn stood in the kitchen doorway. His face was pale, the tangles in his wet black hair glistening like snakes. He stared at Anna with horrible eyes as Jaheira tried to restrain her.

_"What...what is this?" _the druid exclaimed. "What has happened?"

She received no answer. Anna screwed her eyes tight shut, and when she opened them the horrible vision of Finn was gone.

"Of all the...this is madness," Jaheira panted, shaking her head. "Come, Imoen, help me rub her hands and feet. Gently now, not too vigorously. We must help the blood to flow."

Anna lay helplessly on the floor. The warmth was creeping back into her, and with it pain. Her entire body began to feel like a thousand demons were stabbing her with needles. It burned and Anna sobbed again.

"I think she will be all right," Jaheira said. "Imoen...would you go build up the fire in her bedchamber, and warm the sheets? She should be in bed now."

"I will...but I'll get her some spiced wine first," the girl offered. "That'll warm her up."

"No, no wine," Jaheira said quickly. "Drink will only make her worse. She shall have broth later. Now though, do as I ask."

Imoen rose up slowly and left the room. Jaheira helped Anna to sit, then sat down in front of her. She took Anna's hands and continued massaging them gently.

"Your face is bruised, I notice. There, near your eye. Has something happened?"

She spoke quietly, almost indifferently, but her eyes were keen. Anna pulled a hand away and touched her face. She still felt too cold to tell if it was sore or not. Jaheira must have been able to tell that Finn had struck her. But the answer to why was still so far beyond speaking that Anna remained silent.

"I suppose it would be difficult for the pair of you," Jaheira continued, still quiet. "Finn fleeing from the law, discovering this child—and little to mention the _other _difficulties we have faced. Tempers would be rather short."

"Yes," Anna finally managed.

"Has he done this before?"

Anna suddenly felt startled awake. Jaheira was reaching for something, but she could have little idea of what. How absurd it seemed—she thought Finn was nothing more than a drunk who beat his wife.

A short, choppy laugh escaped Anna's mouth. Her body began to tremble violently and her shaking laughter continued. At once Anna's laughter turned back into a sob.

_"Oh, Chauntea—Mother, it's not true. It's not true!"_

"Alright, shush now," Jaheira said, clearly growing more alarmed. She wrapped her arms around Anna again, holding her close against her shuddering, but Anna leaned forward and collapsed into a jelly heap on the stone floor.

She heard voices and looked up to see Kivan and Khalid staring at her. Anna was bare to the waist but she didn't care; embarrassment was beyond her then. Her husband was a monster. There was nothing that could help, nowhere to escape from that horrible fact. All Finn's powers, his black rages, they were clear to her now. He wasn't human; he was a beast of the Abyss.

_"Make it stop!" _she sobbed helplessly. Jaheira looked up at Khalid with a wild look.

"I have no idea what has overcome this girl, but she needs to be in bed. Help me, my husband."

It took the three of them to carry Anna up the stairs. She was stiff as a board but kept thrashing out in her panic. Rather roughly they bundled her into the chamber where a surprised Imoen looked up from the bed. She took the brass bedwarmer away and watched as they tried to settle Anna in between the sheets.

"Does she have a shift? Blast it all, is everything here stained in blood?" Jaheira swore.

She lifted up the remnants of Anna's underclothes that had suffered in the assassins' attack in disgust.

"I meant to wash those," Imoen said. "I just got around to changing the sheets! I'll get her one of my own spare shifts."

"In a moment. Now—go into our chamber, and fetch from my bag the small blue bottle sealed in wax. Hurry!" Jaheira commanded again.

Imoen looked as if she were going to snap back, but looking at Anna she seemed to think the better of it. She followed Jaheira's orders and vanished.

"Has she gone entirely mad?" Kivan said, trying to force one of Anna's hands under the covers.

"I think...perhaps—_Anna, cease this now!" _the druid bellowed in her ear.

Anna clenched her teeth and they chattered hard against one another. She stopped struggling but the tears still flowed from her eyes.

"There n-now, do n-not worry," Khalid tried to soothe her. "My l-love, are you certain it is best..."

"No, but she is more harm to herself now than anything," Jaheira replied grimly. "Ah! Imoen, give me that bottle."

Jaheira practically snatched the vial from her hands. She pulled open the cork and forced it into Anna's mouth. She choked tasting a strange bitterness on her tongue, but then the world began to blur into dim edges like twilight.

_"There...she should rest now," _she heard Jaheira say.

...

Imoen said something in reply but Anna's couldn't make it out. There were only voices, no words to be heard. She lay in the bed in a dreamlike state, awake but not really present in the world. Above her the pattern in the counterpane shifted slightly, drifting almost like clouds. It was strange but peaceful.

Anna didn't try to fight the effect; she felt soft and securely wrapped in her blankets. Figures moved dimly here and there, becoming smaller and larger as they drifted to and from the fireplace, which seemed a thousand miles beyond the foot of her bed. At last though sleep proved too overpowering and she drifted away entirely.

When she woke Imoen was standing by the side of the bed. Anna turned to her slowly; her entire neck felt like it was made of wood. Imoen's mouth was a thin line and Anna thought she looked angry.

_"Imoen," _she said roughly. "How...how long have I been asleep?"

"Hours," she replied. "How are your hands?"

Anna looked down to see her hands wrapped in bandages. They burned as if the linen wrap were on fire.

"They hurt," Anna moaned.

"I guess that's a good sign, then. If they were frostbitten you wouldn't feel anything," Imoen said. "Here, Jaheira said to give you this when you woke up."

A small tureen sat on the bedside table, and from it Imoen ladled up a bowl of steaming clear liquid. Anna tried to take it but her hands were too rough, and she spilled broth on the coverlet. Imoen sighed and held the bowl to her mouth.

The broth was good and warm but Anna had no interest in it. Silently Imoen put the bowl back on the table.

"Where's Finn?" Anna asked. The question felt hollow. Wherever he was, Finn wasn't the man she knew anymore. He was a stranger.

"I don't know," she said, an odd tone in her voice.

Anna looked at her. Could she know the truth? Even through her silence the girl seemed upset—angry even. Perhaps that life-long lie Gorion had perpetrated was affecting her too.

"You can't just _leave _him," Imoen suddenly blurted. "He needs you now. I know all this is...hard...but he needs you. You can't just walk away from him!"

"Imoen..." Anna began.

"That's all he'd say to me," the girl continued. "Just _Anna doesn't want me. Anna is going to leave. _I'm sure he didn't mean to—you know what he's like, he just loses his cool sometimes. But he looked like he was half out of his mind when he came back here. You can't just leave him!"

Anna stared at her. Was that all she thought this was about? A domestic spat? Imoen was angry at _her. _Of course she was loyal to her brother. But if she didn't know the truth, she couldn't even begin to suspect the real nature of their trouble.

"I don't know...what I'm going to do," Anna replied. "I just don't know. None of it...seems real."

"Oh, it's real," Imoen said sharply. "That baby is real enough. And no matter what Finn and you might want, it's not going away. Now, do you want anything else before I go? I've got to get the downstairs rug swept—you wouldn't believe all the muddy boots that have been tramping over it."

"No," she replied.

The girl nodded and stepped curtly from the room. Anna lay still, staring at the fire and feeling the pain tingling in her limbs. The cold had left her body and now she felt uncomfortably warm. She wished Imoen had left more lamps burning. It was dark and the only light came from the fire and the small lamp at the bedside.

Slowly she felt the walls drawing in nearer around her, closing in like beasts circling their prey. Perhaps it was the lingering effect of Jaheira's drug but she actually began to feel frightened of the illusion.

Anna was so wrapped up in the idea that she didn't hear the door open. But the figure who appeared there made her sit bolt upright in bed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Finn said quickly.

He stayed near the door, and Anna realised she was clutching the covers to her chest like a frightened child. Slowly she released them and tried to gather herself.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Around. Just wanted a bit of space to think."

Anna didn't reply. He looked more like himself than he had before, and if not for the pained, pale expression she wouldn't have thought anything was wrong. He was still her Finn, at least on the outside.

"How are you?" he asked in turn.

"Fine, I think. I don't know," she said quietly.

"Aye. You got pretty cold out there."

"Didn't Jaheira put you in bed, too?" Anna said.

"Nah. I was good as new within the hour. Fancy that, eh?"

He spoke with a little laugh, though not one that had much humour in it. They'd both known about his peculiar healing abilities for a long time, but the true reason for them was more unsettling than either of them could have imagined.

A silence fell into the room. Finn looked around; his eyes regarded the fire, a wreath of dried flowers on the wall, the bedstead, but they didn't focus on Anna. They seemed afraid to rest there.

"What are you going to do?" she asked finally.

"Me? Don't know," he shrugged. "I can just take my bag and leave. No one is going to want me around once this gets out."

"Have you told anyone?"

"Who am I going to tell?" he demanded. "I don't know how. I don't—it just doesn't make any _sense, _you know? It's not real. But, it is. Gorion wouldn't make that up. I understand it all now. Gorion used to drill me on the Time of Troubles, the gods—I could repeat it in my sleep. Never could understand why he was so obsessed with it, even for a monk. But now I know. _Bhaal was my father."_

"Don't say it!" Anna cried. "Just, _don't."_

"Why? Is hiding it going to make it less true? I'm the bastard spawn of the Nine Hells! How's that for a line to impress people? Well, at least it's not _boring."_

"Please don't joke," she implored him.

"What else can I do?" Finn replied. "Go mad and do myself in? I was always this thing. _Always. _Ulraunt knew, that's why he hated me. Can't say I really blame him anymore. I'd hate me, too. And now you do, as well."

"I don't..._hate _you, Finn," Anna said, shaken by the accusation.

"Don't lie, I can see it in your eyes. You're terrified of me. Like some woman who just discovered all the body parts her good, law-abiding husband had been storing in the cellar. You've been living a lie. We both have," he concluded.

Anna didn't know what to say. Finn was right, but she didn't want him to be. There had to be some way, some_ thing. _There had to be a way out.

"Then what...what do you want?" she stammered.

_"Me?" _ Finn said. "What I always want. I want to wrap my arms around you. I want to kiss your hair. I want to hear you laughing. I want to hear you _sing. _Anything else is just an afterthought. But what about you? Would you still let me?"

His voice was shaking. Tears started to sting Anna's eyes. She didn't know. Chauntea help her, she didn't know. She didn't hate Finn—she loved him. But to be with him, knowing he was...this thing, it seemed impossible. It changed everything.

Anna had always insisted Finn didn't have bad blood, as Maya and other nay-sayers liked to suggest. That was a foolish thing to say. He was just a man. A man with faults, true, but there was nothing inherently wicked about him. Finn was just a man, the same as any other. But she was wrong. He did have bad blood, and blood so foul it almost beggared imagining.

"I think I just need to be alone now," she said, looking down at the floor.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's what I figured," he replied.

Anna looked up again, but Finn turned without another word and left the room.

...

She lay still for a long time after he left. The inn was totally silent—was everyone gone, or was it the middle of the night? Anna had no idea of the time. Her hands and feet burned painfully from within their bandages, and the heat of it drove a sweat onto Anna's brow. She wished she hadn't drank any of the broth—her whole insides now seemed to burn with fever. The heat was too much to cope with.

She kicked off the covers and felt a chill immediately hit her skin. Not so warm as she'd thought. Clumsily Anna stumbled out of bed, her legs wonky beneath her like a drunken man's. She grasped the wall for balance and tried to get her bearings before lunging at her clothes. Imoen had hung them in front of the fire and they were mostly dry. The fire felt absurdly hot but Anna managed somehow to get dressed.

By chance she caught sight of herself in the glass that hung over the commode. Anna was startled to see the black bruise spreading across her cheek, just below the eye. Against her pale skin the mark stood out like a brand. She shuddered and looked away.

Her boots weren't laced and her bodice was loose, but she grabbed her quarterstaff for support and stumbled from the room.

No lamps had been lit and the hall was dark, but through the windows Anna could see the grey light of dawn starting to illuminate the courtyard. She hit each step on the stairs with a clattering thump but somehow made it to the bottom. A few lamps were lit on the ground floor but no one was in sight. A stray cloak hung by the door and she snatched it from the wall, wrapping it around her shoulders as she couldn't manage the clasp. Anna drew a breath and ventured out into the courtyard.

The world felt cold and frozen, locked into a dream. A grey mist hung around the buildings and shrouded the towers from her sight. But Anna was drawn towards one place—the apothecary's cottage where Suzy would most likely still be. She had to see for herself if the child had yet come into the world.

Clumsily her hands fumbled with the ring, and she made more noise on entry than she'd intended. Suddenly the door burst open and Jaheira stood there, glaring at her with an evil look.

"You—why are you out of bed?" she demanded. "Never mind. Get inside before you catch your death again."

Jaheira didn't wait for an answer but trundled Anna over towards the fire, then sat her down hard in a chair. Anna gasped a little and Jaheira seemed to realise she'd been rather rough with the patient.

"I am sorry. But whatever possessed you to come here, at this hour of the morning no less?"

"I just wanted to see if the child had come," she answered apologetically.

"Not yet, though I think it will not be long," Jaheira said. "The medicine is no longer working and Suzy is having pains. I would not be much surprised if the child were here by evening."

She made a resigned sigh and rubbed her tired eyes. Anna thought she looked exhausted, and little wonder.

"Have you had any rest?" she asked.

"Rest?" Jaheira scoffed. "Between you and the maid I have not been off my feet this past night. As soon as daylight comes I will send word to the village—there is a woman there who acts as an unofficial midwife, I gather, though I do not know how much experience she truly has. I cannot think many children are born in a place such as this."

They were interrupted by a groan of pain from the other room. Jaheira looked at the door but she stayed where she was.

"Growing more frequent, I think," she said. "I do not suppose Finn will be paying a visit? I could get nothing out of him earlier, and he seemed mad as you. It is not really my place to speak, but I cannot help but think it would be best for all concerned if you left here as soon as possible. There is too much tension here now. Perhaps, in the future, there may be time to restore bonds."

"Leave...and where are we going to go?" Anna remarked, more to herself than Jaheira.

"Again, that is not something I can answer," she said grimly. "The Flaming Fist will be looking for Finn, and I strongly doubt Anchev will give up this endless quest of his anytime soon. The Harpers cannot offer any official help, of course, but...Khalid and I do have friends in many cities across this land. Perhaps they might help you to settle somewhere."

Anna nodded slightly. Jaheira was decent to offer, but it reminded her too of the loneliness of their situation. To drift forever, hiding from the law and law-breakers alike—it seemed a hopeless life. Faerun did not seem so large to her then.

"Unless...you will not be going with him?" Jaheira suddenly said.

Anna looked up, surprised. The druid carefully took potion bottles from a bag, placing them delicately on the table so they would not make a noise.

"Has Imoen said something to you?" Anna asked.

"No," she replied.

Anna sighed. It seemed that Xan wasn't the only one who could read minds. Although the difficulty of their situation would be plain to anyone.

"I don't know," she said. "We had an..._upset."_

It was a foolish word to use; it so understated the facts as to be absurd. Jaheira pursed her lips.

"That was quite obvious. As I said last night, if you can remember, I imagine you two are not having an easy time just now. You need time to heal, but I do not think fate will allow you any such luxury. I do not envy you," she concluded.

Anna suddenly found herself gasping for air. Her throat didn't seem to be working right.

"Jaheira—I think...I think there's something wrong with Finn," she stammered.

"He is a child, that is his problem," she snapped in reply. "He needs to learn to control his temper, and act like a man."

"That's not what I mean," Anna said weakly.

"Then what do you mean?" she asked.

Jaheira looked at her sharply, and Anna looked away.

"I don't know. I don't know," she repeated.

"Well, if you do not know then you cannot expect me to help you," she said, that terseness coming back in her voice. "And I do wish you would return to the inn. I have things to see to here, but I will return later to check on your bandages. How do your hands feel? Can you move your toes?"

"Yes," Anna said. Her limbs were still in pain but they felt less like wood that morning.

"Then that is good, at least," Jaheira sighed. "Now, if you'd excuse me?"

...

Anna took the dismissal and left the cottage. It was steadily growing lighter but the world still looked grey. She could hear the cocks crowing from their yard near the inn. Morning—yet another day.

As she drew nearer she noticed a horse standing saddled and ready outside the inn. A well-bundled figure appeared and began checking the saddle bags.

"Master Firebead?" Anna said.

_"Hm? _Oh, yes, dear—how are you?" the old mage replied.

"Are you leaving?" Anna asked in return.

"Yes, I am. I'd hoped to stay and conduct some more research, but the atmosphere in this place is not altogether welcoming just now. I dare say most of the surviving guests will be on their way today. Ulraunt has announced that Candlekeep will be closed to visitors for quite some time. Regrettable, but understandable. Are you planning on returning to Beregost? This has been a most exciting trip, and dear old Rupert here isn't the most stimulating conversationalist, even if he is an excellent listener."

Firebead gave the old bay horse an affectionate pat on the flank, and the horse shook out his bridle.

"No...not now, I don't think," Anna replied. "Were you planning on riding all the way home? It's a long journey, especially this time of year."

"Yes, I could just magic myself there, but I rather enjoy the trip," Firebead said. "Nothing like the rhythm of the road to give one a chance to think. But I am sorry to hear you won't be going back. Cheerio, then!"

He swung ably up into the saddle, then gave Anna a friendly wave before chirruping the horse on. The gelding started out carefully through the snow and headed towards the open gate. Anna managed a wave, though her hand froze regarding the sight of a doppelganger's severed arm waving in reply as it dangled from a saddle bag.

Anna stepped inside and tried to brush off the cold. She heard a racket coming from the kitchen and went to investigate. Imoen was there, surrounded by enough food to feed an army. Back and forth she darted between the table and the pots that hung over the fire. She saw Anna and paused only long enough to wipe the sweat from her brow.

"Hiya. I'm pretty busy here."

"What are you doing?" Anna asked.

"Well, what's it look like?" Imoen snapped. "Cooking! We've still got a full house, and the guests are going to want breakfast. I've been up before the chickens, doing the work of three of us and I _still_ don't have the table laid. And some folks always insist on having breakfast in bed—although they won't be up for awhile yet. Gives me a little time."

"I don't think anyone's going to care about that today," Anna remarked.

"Oh, they'll care! Nobles _always _care about the service, and we have a reputation to keep up. And here Ulraunt is talking about closing the keep to readers. What are we going to do then, hey? There goes our livelihood out of the window. Has he thought about us _at all?"_

Imoen shook her head, clucking like a gossipy old woman. Pink curls framed in sweat peeked out from under her kerchief and she distractedly tucked them back in. Anna looked at her in surprise.

"Well, I'm sure you'll manage. But why are you so concerned about that?"

"This is my inn now, isn't it?" Imoen replied, her hands still flying. "Winthrop and Vera are dead. I was Winthrop's ward, and they didn't have any children. So it's up to me to see the place keeps going."

"You're going to run this whole place by yourself?"

"Well...no. I thought I could get some help in, a maid or two, maybe even a cook. But I can't do that if there's no guests bringing in coin. Damn, where did the nutmeg grater go?"

She searched over the table before finally discovering the small metal file. Busily she grated the fragrant nuts over a bowl of flour, then tossed it aside and began to sift.

"Do you want help?" Anna asked.

"No. I'm fine! Just...go and lay down, or something. Where's Finn? He said he'd fetch in some more firewood. I just barely got the fire going in the dining room, and it won't be enough to drive out the cold. He just doesn't care about _anyone!"_

Anna began to speak but thought the better of it. She went into the dining room and began setting places for breakfast, taking plates and silver from the large cabinet there. She wasn't entirely certain what made up a full breakfast setting in a formal place like that but she made her best guess. Anna placed a couple tureens of fruit in the centre of the table, and thought to herself that it looked rather nice.

It was pleasant to have a distraction, and for a few minutes she forgot about her aching limbs and all her other troubles. But Imoen soon came rushing in and stared at the table in horror.

_"Oh, no!_ What are you doing? That's not right—those are _soup _spoons, not fruit spoons! And they go at the top, not on the side. And why are the fish plates out? Gods, what a mess!"

"I'm sorry, I only wanted to help," Anna replied, feeling her face growing warm.

"Well, you're not helping!" Imoen exclaimed. "Just go on, and leave this to me. I need to get back before the buns burn!"

Frantically she began shuttling the plates that Anna had just laid back into the cabinet. A couple of delicate-looking porcelain bowls escaped her grasp and went clattering to the floor. One managed somehow to roll to safety, but the other smashed into pieces. Imoen gasped loudly and stared at the carnage.

"Oh no. Oh no! Winthrop's going to _kill _me," she wailed.

"Imoen..." Anna said.

"Don't...don't start," she replied. "I'll clean it up. Where's the dustpan?"

The girl fled the room, rolling her hands over and over in her apron. As she went past Anna noticed there were tears in her eyes. Anna looked down at the smashed bowl, its pieces glinting like jagged ice in the firelight. She heard a clattering in the kitchen followed by a tirade of swearing that would make a sailor blush. Imoen was right—there wasn't anything she could do to help. Imoen needed to find her own place now. Anna left the inn and went back out into the courtyard.

...

Somewhere beyond the clouds the sun had risen, and the courtyard was filled with a normal kind of daylight. Up on the ramparts Anna noticed a Watcher pacing. It was most likely Hull, though it was difficult to tell. Perhaps some other guards had survived the doppelgangers' assault, she didn't know.

Anna knew she should follow Jaheira's advice and go back to bed, but somehow she couldn't face it. Perhaps it was the lingering fever but something in her demanded activity, like Imoen with her madcap breakfast.

She wondered where Finn was. The gate to the inner fortress was open and unguarded, and somehow Anna found herself drawn towards it. She thought then of Ulraunt. He knew of Finn's...condition. He knew, and despised him for it. Possibly not the most neutral party, but he could give her answers. Answers to what questions, she wasn't sure.

The library was empty and dark. No torches were lit along the walls, no fires burned in the grates. The great statue of Alaundo towered above her like a giant shade, silent and dark. She tried to think of his prophecies. Every child in the Realms must study his verse; Anna remembered well copying them down into that old composition book that she'd stitched together herself, pen held carefully lest she make a blot and need to start over. But little of them remained, driven out by more important things.

No one truly paid Alaundo's writings much heed—they were things for scholars and seers to pour over, not ordinary folk. They were dusty old warnings, vague and incomprehensible, and had little bearing on the modern world. Or so she thought. _"The Lord of Murder shall perish, and in his death he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny..." _That line she remembered, not least because she'd overheard the monks chanting it in the courtyard.

The Lord of Murder _had _perished, and he was not the only god who met his end during Time of Troubles. Why it had never occurred to her that the second half of the prophecy must also be true, she didn't know. But she could never even have imagined that her husband might be one of those fabled children. Not even in her worst moments had she thought of that dark prophecy.

Slowly she climbed the many stairs to Ulraunt's office. It was hard work for her frozen limbs, and she needed to pause often for breath. At last though Anna reached her destination and knocked on the door.

It was early yet, and she had no idea if the Keeper would be there. If he wasn't she was determined to wait. But a gruff voice called out from the other side, and Anna took her leave to enter.

She blinked in the light of his office, the contrast between the darkened hall too much for her eyes. The fire was up and Ulraunt had every possible lamp burning. The man himself sat behind the desk, sorting through a mountain of papers. He glanced at her with a surly look.

"You, then. What do you want?"

"I want to talk about Finn," Anna said, boldly. Those words were very hard to force out.

"What's to talk about?" Ulraunt replied. "He's not my responsibility. I told him to leave, though I'm not surprised that he hasn't. That boy never was much for taking orders."

"No..." Anna said.

She said nothing else and Ulraunt ignored her presence. He went around picking papers out of the stacks, looking at them for a moment, then grumblingly filing them somewhere else.

"Are you...busy?" she asked.

It was a foolish question, and Anna had no idea why she asked. Ulraunt peered at her over his spectacles.

_"Busy? _A collection like ours doesn't maintain itself, and you might say we're down to a skeleton staff. I've got to put word out to our order to bring in more monks. That's going to take time though—not everyone is up to this job, especially as some of our works are a bit _specialist. _I need to go through it all and find out if anything went missing during my doppelganger's bastard reign. It would be a bit _unfortunate_ of some of these things found their way into the wrong hands, you know. _And_ we need to bury our dead. All this before breakfast? Yes, I'm just a _bit _busy."

He picked up the letter opener on his desk and waved it at her dismissively. It was shaped like a dagger, carved of solid ivory. Anna felt foolish again but once more she summoned her courage.

"I know...I know what Finn is."

That did make Ulraunt pause, but only for a moment.

"What? Unfaithful, dishonest, drunken lout?" he scoffed. "You took your time."

_"No," _Anna said, feeling an anger starting to rise. "I know about—_him. _About his...father."

Ulraunt pursed his lips. He appeared to be examining a paper intently, but Anna could tell he wasn't really looking at it.

"Then you have found the prize, haven't you?"

His voice had a queer tone—amused, yet rather nervous. He looked over at her with a little smile on his face.

"So, how do you know? Did Tethtoril finally spill the beans?"

"In a way," Anna said. "He gave Finn a letter from Gorion. It said..."

She still couldn't force out the words, like saying them would somehow make them real. It was still just a nightmare to her, not something that could exist in daylight. But Ulraunt had no such fears.

"It said that Finnigan is the spawn of Bhaal. Yes, quite true. We've kept this secret for years, not only out of respect for Gorion, but from a fear of the chaos such a revelation could create. I'd ask how Finnigan took the news, but the answer is written on your face."

"This has _nothing _to do with that," Anna exclaimed, touching her bruised cheek.

It wasn't exactly a lie, but not the truth either. In any case her voice was too high to fool Ulraunt.

"As you like, then. But now he knows. At long last he knows the truth," he said, and his chin began to quiver like jelly from the emotion in his words. Ulraunt rose up from his desk and walked slowly towards the middle of the room.

"He knows what I was forced to live with for all those years—live with, no—I was expected to _teach, _to _care, _to act like he was just some ordinary urchin from off the street, come here to be given a better life. It made me _sick._ It would—any right thinking person would be horrified by what he was. The spawn of murder itself—that very essence of all that is evil and perverse. Not just death, but _murder._ Vicious. Evil. Hateful."

"You're describing yourself pretty well," a voice said from the door. "But you're a lot kinder than I would be."

Anna turned and gasped. Finn stood in the open doorway, his height nearly filling the frame. Was he so quiet, or was she so engrossed in what Ulraunt was saying that she didn't hear the door? Ulraunt's eyes glittered, and she got the feeling his speech hadn't really been directed at her.

"That is what passes for cleverness with you, isn't it? An empty-headed parrot knows how to mimic, but true intelligence was always something you were lacking. Perhaps that's just as well—I shudder to think what you might be capable of if you had half a head on your shoulders."

"That's half more than you'll end up with, if you keep talking to me that way," Finn growled. "I'm not fromhere anymore, Ulraunt. You can't bully me."

"You were never _from _here in the first place, demon spawn!" the Keeper exclaimed. "You never should have been let in the gates. I'd have drowned you in the nearest pond, tossed you into the sea—but what good would that have done? You'd just have been spat back out again. Clearly fate wanted you here. Our curse, our shame. And now the curtain is open for all to see."

_"Stop talking to me that way!" _Finn bellowed.

"Or what, boy?" Ulraunt said. "You'll _murder _me? It's what you do best, after all."

"I haven't murdered anyone!"

"Oh, no? And what about Gorion?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't kill him! It was Sarevok Anchev. We know that now," he barked back.

"Immaterial. That someone else was holding the sword was meaningless. _You _killed him—your blood. Your very taint was the cause of his death."

"That's complete bollocks," Finn said.

The two men were locked into a staring contest, each striving to exceed the other in unrestrained loathing. Anna herself could say nothing as years of bad blood finally boiled over. Ulraunt let out a choking laugh.

"Indeed? Do you actually believe that? Even putting aside your fitting career as a mercenary, Gorion wasn't the first. Remember that village lad—Ondyar, was it? He made the mistake of running off with your slingshot one day. They pulled him out of the marsh, neck broken, poor lad. He was only nine years old."

"I didn't kill him!" Finn exclaimed. A look of genuine horror swept over his face, followed by pure rage at the accusation. "He was hiding from me, I didn't even know where he went. He fell out of a tree!"

"Hiding in the swamp? No sane lad would go down there—sinkholes and gibberlings all over in that place. No, he was terrified," Ulraunt claimed. "Something he must have seen. Something _you _became."

"That's not true! I wasn't even there—I was at the Driver's Inn. Suzy would tell you that. The men found him in the swamp."

_"Then how did you get the slingshot back?" _ Ulraunt demanded. "It was in your pocket when they brought him home."

"How...I found it," Finn said. "Ondyar must have dropped it. I picked it up in the yard."

"Yes. That's what you said, and the village simpletons believed you. They had no cause to doubt that you were anything but an innocent boy...but I did. And may all the gods help me, I said nothing."

Finn suddenly looked confused, but he shook his head angrily.

"So that's it then—you think I killed Ondyar? He was my mate! About the only friend I've ever had in this gods-forsaken place. I was only a little lad myself, and you think I snapped his _neck? _Over a _toy? _You really do have a fine opinion of me."

"And it's been justified, over and over," Ulraunt claimed. "I couldn't prove you murdered that boy, otherwise I'd have told Gorion to take you and leave, promise or no promise. But I saw it again and again. Playing rough with your sister. Those brute rats you used to torture. And shall we forget that guard you nearly beat to death with your own fists? No—you were evil. That was clear from the start!"

_"Don't call me that!" _ Finn shouted.

Suddenly his blade was in his hand. Anna screamed out in horror.

_"Finn, stop!"_

He looked at her, surprised again, then stared at his sword for a second before sheathing it.

"If I'm evil, then you're worse," Finn said, his voice shaking with hatred. "You used to torture me. Remember? Insisting I had a freezing cold bath every morning, making me stand on a stool, holding heavy books out at arms length if I couldn't remember my lessons perfect—beating me with a strap every time I so much as sneezed! If I'm evil it's _your _fault, Ulraunt. You made me what I am."

"I was only trying to correct you!" Ulraunt claimed. "You needed discipline if you were to have even the slightest chance at making your way in society. Gorion did _nothing. _He always refused to even acknowledge what you were, treated you as if you were an ordinary child. He chose to be blind to your condition, and look what it cost him."

_"Yeah?_ And you'll be next, you hate-filled bastard!" Finn swore. "You're already a bloated corpse. Putting you in the ground is just a detail."

Anna looked at Finn in shock, but Ulraunt almost seemed to be pleased.

"Yes, yes! See how little it takes? Blood will out. And how frightening it is to think you have reproduced yourself—how much of your blood will that child inherit? At the top of my list will be finding new landlords for the Driver's Inn. We need no more of your sort around here."

"You can't just evict them," Anna said, finally speaking up. "They own—"

"They own nothing but the lease," Ulraunt corrected her. "Candlekeep owns all the land here, and all the houses. I can do with it what I will. If you are really so concerned then take them with you. You can start your own little gypsy caravan filled with devil-spawn children, for all I care. Now, I will not tell you this again—be gone from here by nightfall, or I will have what is left of the guards cut you down!"

Anna felt sick. Whatever questions she had for Ulraunt paled in comparison to the answers she received. She glanced over at the door and for a moment she thought she saw a shadow there, but she saw shadows everywhere these days. Her attention was drawn back to Finn. He stood still in the centre of the room, glaring at Ulraunt.

"Lord of your own little kingdom," he said. "It's always the same with you. People don't forget, Ulraunt. You'll need friends some day, and come to find out you've got none. Maybe someone is going to start asking questions about how you run this place? You'll be a clerk by the end of the month, if you're lucky. We'll pack up and go. I don't want to be around your stink any longer. But I'll tell you this—you do one thing to Suzy or that baby, and I _will_ come after you. That's no kind of threat, it's a promise. You're right, son—I'm a murderer on the run from the law. What's one more notch on my scabbard? Think about it."

Ulraunt sneered. "I suppose that's your version of chivalry, eh? You don't impress me. You're a coward in the end, and I know you'll be too far gone to care what happens to anyone else here. Now leave. I'm _busy."_

He dismissed Finn in a schoolmaster's tone, giving no hint to the threats he had made. Finn's lip curled up and he looked like he might actually burst. But they were all interrupted by a light rapping on the door.

_"Umm..._ Pardon me, Master. I've brought the catalogue like you asked."

Anna turned to see Parda standing sheepishly in the door, a few scrolls tucked under his arms. He looked even more nervous than usual. Ulraunt gestured impatiently for him to come in.

"Good, good. We've got lots to do, my boy. There's a few tomes in particular we need to track down."

Ulraunt appeared to entirely forget about the episode, and ignored Finn and Anna's presence. Parda gave Anna an apologetic smile but he was occupied in ticking off the list of books the Keeper recited from memory. Finn still kept staring at Ulraunt with that black look, but after a moment he stormed away and Anna followed him.

...

"Finn..." she said.

"Just leave me alone, alright? Go and pack up your things, we're leaving!"

"What—just now?"

"Yes, now!" Finn snapped, turning back to her. "We're not spending another minute in this place. Go tell Imoen to get ready to leave. I'm sick. I've had enough!"

"I don't think Imoen really wants to go," Anna said. "At least, I'm not sure. She was talking about running the inn herself."

"And you think Ulraunt will let her? No, he'll drive her out just to spite me. We're all going. The three of us."

"Go where?" she asked again.

"Well I don't know, do I? Stop asking me stupid questions. _Away—_that's the best I can manage."

Anna shuddered at his hateful response. She looked away and her feet stayed firmly on the floor. Finn began pacing the hall, grabbing his hair in his hands and rambling loudly to himself.

_"Go, go!_ It doesn't matter anymore. I just need to get _out. _So sick of—can't stand that evil bastard! He'll get his. He'll get his."

_"Finn, stop it!" _Anna exclaimed.

She could bear no more. She didn't know who that man was. He was a stranger to her, a man possessed. Finn continued pacing angrily and his fists suddenly hit the wall.

_"No, stop!" _he shouted. _"No more! No more!"_

Anna turned on her heel and stumbled away quickly as her legs could manage. Tears began flowing freely over her face and her chest heaved. Desperately she wondered if she could catch up with Firebead—she could take a horse, who would notice? Their owners were probably dead anyway. She needed to get out of that hateful place.

She wandered into one of the empty library halls, just managing in time to find a chair before her legs gave way. Anna curled her head into her arms on the desk and sobbed.

After a time her crying slowed. She looked around at the cold, empty room, with its endless rows of mute books. Strange to think she ever found them exciting. Now they just seemed dead and dull. She'd always thought of books as her friends, but none of them could help her now.

There was a window there, a narrow slit looking down onto the courtyard. Anna pulled herself up and went to look outside. The sky was still grey as slate—what wouldn't she give for a bit of sun? The entire world seemed to be in mourning clothes. But something in the courtyard caught her eye. Patches of red, bright as flame against the snow. Red jerkins, men on horseback.

_"Oh no...oh no..."_

It couldn't be—not here, not _now_. A panic seized her, and Anna forgot all about her stiff limbs as she ran for the courtyard. She paused near the library gate, listening as sharp tones drifted over in the unmistakable sound of Jaheira's voice, arguing with the men. Khalid was there as well, and Kivan too, but the Flaming Fist officer paid none of them any attention.

"I will not tell you again, stand aside!" the captain bellowed. "We had word that a deserter has taken refuge here, and we have permission from the Dukes to search the entire keep. It's all there in that decree, if you'd care to stop shouting and read it. If you interfere you will be at risk of arrest yourselves."

"You cannot just search Candlekeep!" Jaheira continued. "The Keeper of the Tomes will not allow it."

"It's not his decision to allow," the captain said. "We are on official business from Baldur's Gate. But out of respect we will speak to him, and deliver this decree ourselves. Where is he?"

"In the library, I would imagine. But wait—you should not—"

Jaheira sounded more desperate as the mercenaries ignored her and headed towards the library. Anna turned and fled back inside. She needed to warn Finn. If the Flaming Fist were there, and saw him in that state no less... What if he tried to fight? She'd hoped desperately that they might be able to talk their way out of a capital sentence for his desertion, given the facts, but they'd have no chance if he was acting like a madman.

...

Anna breathed heavily, panting up the steps—where was he? She needed to find him. She called out his name then bit her tongue, terrified that the pursing mercenaries might hear.

The last place she saw him was in the hallway outside Ulraunt's office, and her feet led her back there. In relief she saw Finn. He sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands.

"Oh, Finn...thank the gods!"she gasped. "They're coming, they're here. The Flaming Fist! We need to hide... But...what's wrong?"

Anna's hurried words began to slow. Finn glanced up at her. His face looked even more terrible than it had before, and he was crying.

_"Anna...he's dead."_

"Who?"

_"Ulraunt. He's dead. He's dead."_

Anna could only stare. A terrible cold began to creep down her neck and settled into her stomach. She took a step back from Finn without realising it.

"What... How..."

"I didn't kill him," Finn said quickly. "Gods help me, I didn't! I went back to his office...was going to give him another piece of my mind...but he was dead. Dead on the floor. Stabbed over and over again! _The blood...the blood..."_

He rested his face in his hands again, and Anna could see they were stained in red. She stumbled past Finn and looked into the office. Ulraunt was there, lying on his stomach before the fire. His face was turned to the side, his mouth open with a look of surprise frozen there. Even from the doorway Anna could see blood staining the carpet around his body.

She grasped hard at the doorframe and her breathing grew shallow. _Ulraunt...dead... _She felt a touch on her shoulders and a terrified shriek came from her mouth. Finn let go of her in surprise and she tripped into the room.

_"No...get away from me!"_

Her eyes rested on his hand. Ulraunt's letter opener was clasped in his fist. The pure white of the ivory was now dripping with blood. Finn stared at it like the blade was cutting into his skin. He hand shook but it stayed firmly in his grasp.

"No—I just picked it up. You don't...you don't think I _killed _him, do you?"

Anna shook her head. She didn't want to believe it. She _couldn't _believe it. But there was no other answer. Finn had gone mad, blacked out...and did the unthinkable.

"Then who else?" she said in a small voice. "Who else could it be?"

"I don't know. I don't know. But it wasn't me. I don't care how this looks—just believe me. _Please. Anna. _How can you not believe me? How can you honestly think..."

He sounded so desperate and hurt. Anna could say nothing, though. Whatever she felt, she couldn't just ignore the facts. She'd done that for long enough.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Finn. I'm sorry. Mother have mercy, I am so _sorry."_

There was no time for further words. There was a clattering of armour in the hall—the mercenaries must have followed the sound of her scream. The captain burst in, and stared at the body in shock.

"By Tyr! What has happened here?" he exclaimed.

"Finn, are you—what is—what did," Jaheira stammered, pushing past the captain.

Even the druid was at a loss for words. She stared in horror, her eyes flitting between Ulraunt and the letter opener in Finn's hand. They all stood gazing at the scene like some kind of surreal tableau. Reality had gone, and no one seemed certain what to do. But the captain managed to gather his wits and spoke.

"Who is this?" he asked of the dead man.

"Ulraunt. The Keeper of the Tomes," Jaheira breathed.

"Then it seems we do not need to find him. You are Lieutenant Finnigan, are you not? You match the description."

"Yes," Finn replied, looking the man straight in the eye.

"Then know you are under arrest for desertion, by order of High Duke Eltan. We are to take you into custody and return you to Baldur's Gate for trial. If you resist, then you will be struck down. Makreth, put him into irons."

Finn didn't resist. The letter opener finally dropped to the carpet with a dull thud. He said nothing as the mercenary held his hands behind his back and locked his wrists into the restraints. He removed Finn's sword and began searching him for other weapons. The entire time Finn's eyes stayed fixed on Anna. She couldn't bear to look at him and turned away.

"This cannot be what it appears," Jaheira said, still trying to salvage something of the situation. "There have been assassins and shape-shifting monsters alike threatening this place of late—anyone could have killed this man. I beg you not to jump to the obvious conclusion."

The captain raised his eyebrow. "Assassins _and_ monsters? That's a bit of bad luck there. But rest assured, we will look into this man's murder. And no matter who the culprit may be, we still have orders to take the lieutenant back to the city. That doesn't change. Now, are you his wife? Anna Whitehaven?"

Anna looked up at the captain. "I am," she said in a dry voice.

"Then I'm afraid we must also take you in. Assisting a deserter is a serious charge in its own right. Makreth, do the woman as well."

Anna could do nothing as she watched the mercenary approaching with the restraints. Jaheira protested but the captain paid her no heed. A little choke came into her throat as Anna felt the cold touch of iron on her wrists. Suddenly though Finn spoke.

"Damn right! If I'm going in, then she's going too. I said you weren't getting away from me, bitch."

Anna stared at him, but she was beyond words.

"Not the first time. She tried to do a runner on me before," Finn continued. "See that on her face? I had to put her straight. Wenches—sometimes you need to be a little firm with them, eh lads?"

Anna wanted to scream at Finn but she didn't have the strength. Was he serious, or was that some sort of twisted joke? But there was another voice from the doorway, soothing and calm.

"Yes, quite. Has it not occurred to you, Captain, that this woman might not be here of her own free will?"

"I say...what?" the mercenary replied, blinking at Xan as he stepped quietly into the room.

"Lieutenant Finnigan is known for his ill temper. His wife had no choice but to go on the run with him. Holding her is a mistake. You should set her free."

"Yes...yes..." the officer said, looking as though the light had left his eyes. "This woman is not here of her own free will. We should set her free."

"Captain?" one of the mercenaries said, looking equally confused.

"See the mark on her face," Xan continued. "She has suffered violence at his hands. Set her free."

"Yes, set her free now!" the captain ordered suddenly. "We...but I...what was I here for?"

"You were taking Finnigan to the barracks to hold him," Xan reassured him. "He should remain there until this issue is resolved. We must find out who murdered this man."

"Yes, quite. That's right," the captain agreed. "Take him, boys. And let that woman go!"

Makreth released Anna from her binds while two other mercenaries led Finn out of the door. He seemed utterly drained and didn't put up a fight. The captain ordered everyone else from the room. Anna's last sight was of him leaning over Ulraunt's body as one of the Flaming Fist pushed her through the door.

...

When they were alone Jaheira whirled on her, grabbing Anna by the shoulders.

"What happened?" she demanded. "Tell me what happened here!"

"I...I don't know," Anna stammered. "Finn and Ulraunt had an argument...we left...I went into the library...I saw the Flaming Fist and went to find Finn, to warn him, but...but..."

"Was Finn alone with him?" Kivan asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Parda was here before, but he was gone. Where is he? Do you think he heard something?"

"Perhaps. Either way he must be found," Jaheira said. "Oh, Silvanus! This is madness. Finn could not have done this."

"Do you think so?" Anna asked. If Jaheira believed in his innocence that was a good sign.

"I _hope _so," she replied grimly. "I know Finn has his moods, but I should have hoped he would draw the line at brutal murder. What were he and Ulraunt arguing about?"

"Just...things," Anna said, looking away. "The past. But Xan—why did you—"

"Do what? Prevent you from being arrested? It was not a complete falsehood," Xan said, rubbing his chin. "You had little choice but to accompany Finn on his flight. The high command of the Flaming Fist is corrupt, and you were both in danger. Past events have shown this well. As for the rest of the charge—what more can I say? Finn said it all himself."

"But you let the Fist take him away."

"I could do little else. We do not know who killed Ulraunt, and for now it is the safest if he is in custody. For us, and for himself," Xan added.

"How did you know what had happened?" Jaheira asked. "You came out of nowhere."

"I was in the library and heard shouting. I followed the noise, and one mere glance at that scene told the story," he replied.

Xan looked at Anna. Why he should look at her then she didn't know, but somehow she felt it wasn't just a casual gesture.

"We n-need to speak with Finn," Khalid said. "I do n-not want to think he has done this either, b-but..."

"But we cannot ignore the truth," Jaheira agreed. "The Flaming Fist will investigate, but I can't think they will be very partial to Finn just now. And that is _another _problem. How can we get him out of custody? His arrest for desertion is a sham, but I do not wish to make enemies of the Flaming Fist. We cannot simply burst in and take him."

"We must take one step at a time," Kivan said. "I will search outside Ulraunt's chamber. With so much blood his killer must have left a trail. We may find him sooner than later."

"Let us pray it is so," Jaheira replied. "Khalid, if you would go with him? If there are other enemies lurking around here he may need assistance. Anna, stay with me. I do not much care for your complexion just now."

Anna couldn't blame her. She felt thoroughly sick. So strange that Ulraunt's murder affected her less than the thought that Finn had done it. She cared nothing for that man, but now he was dead, and Finn was the most likely suspect. In death he had his revenge on the boy he had so despised all those years. Foolish though it was, it made Anna feel angry, as if Ulraunt himself had planned it.

"Yes, and I will go aid the mercenaries in their investigations," Xan said. "They could use another pair of eyes, even if they think otherwise."

The elf stepped crisply away, his grey cloak flowing out behind him. Kivan and Khalid likewise went off in the direction of Ulraunt's office.

"We should track down Parda," Jaheira said. "His testimony will be vital. _Blast!_ Do we have any idea where he could be?"

Anna cleared her throat. "He and Ulraunt were checking the catalogue, trying to see if any books had gone missing. He must be in the library somewhere."

"Then let us search this place," she replied.

"But...Jaheira..."

"What is it?" she asked sharply.

"Nothing...nothing."

...

Jaheira made an impatient noise in her throat, and they hurried towards the library. The druid moved quickly through the halls, calling for Parda and sending his name ringing through the empty stacks. But there was no answer there, and they moved on to the floor below.

This time they did get a response. Parda peeked out from behind a bookcase, staring at the two women in surprise.

"Here I am," he said. "You should keep your voices down. But I suppose there aren't any readers here, are there? Still so strange to think of that."

"Parda, thank the gods," Jaheira panted, out of breath from her bellowing. "Did you see it? But you couldn't have. You certainly wouldn't be standing here if you had."

"Erm...see _what _exactly?" the monk asked.

"Ulraunt is dead," Anna told him. "He's been murdered."

It might not have seemed possible for the thin monk to go any paler, but his library-induced complexion turned nearly translucent at the news. He gulped hard and grabbed a hold of the shelf for support.

"I don't understand," he said with a little laugh. "I just left the Keeper an hour ago. How...how can he be dead?"

"Then you are not a witness," Jaheira said.

"No...no I'm not! But...but..._who..._"

"The Flaming Fist have arrested Finn. He was found in Ulraunt's chamber with the murder weapon in his hand," she said.

Parda's mouth dropped. _"Oghma's bane_. I heard them arguing, but—Finn wouldn't kill Ulraunt! I can't believe it. He's a decent man, even if he does have a temper. They must have fought a thousand times before, why would this be different?"

"That is what we would like to believe," Jaheira said. "But unfortunately the obvious facts state that Finn is a murderer. We need to prove him innocent if we are to have the slightest chance at setting him free. Can you tell us exactly what you've been doing?"

"Yes...let me think..." Parda said, gasping. "I'm sorry, it's just so... Yes, the Keeper had summoned me that morning, said we needed to go through the catalogue. I was exhausted with being up all last night, so I went back to my chambers after he dismissed me to take a little nap. Guilt got the better of me though, and I couldn't sleep. I came here and got to work."

"And that is all? Have you seen no one?" Jaheira insisted.

"No, I saw Phyldia in the chambers," Parda said. "Doing some work of her own. I didn't stay and talk with her though—you know what she's like. Will keep you chatting for a year on traditional Rashemi sock patterns. I waved hello as I passed, that was all. I peeked in on Tethtoril, but he was in bed reading. Said he needed nothing. Other than that, just Finn and Anna. But Finn was—_oh. Oh, my."_

"What? What is it? Speak, man!"

Parda's face fell. "I remembered Finn. He was wandering around, raging to himself like a lunatic. I thought he was just blowing off steam, I didn't think much of it. I did try to stay out of his way, though."

"When was this?" Jaheira asked.

"After they'd left the Keeper's office. Finn was alone then. He was sort of...hanging around. Not leaving. I thought he might speak with Ulraunt again, and I—was glad I wasn't there to hear it. It looked like a big row in the making. That doesn't sound good, does it?" he said apologetically.

"No," Jaheira breathed. "It does not."

None of them said anything. Anna groaned and leaned up against the books, her head in her hands. It was all over now. There was no hope anymore. Finn must be a murderer—and by all the gods, she knew the true reason why. She knew, and that knowledge was eating a hole from inside out.

"Well...we must do what we can," Jaheira said slowly. "Finn has the right to due process, if nothing else, and we must guarantee a fair trial for him. But how this can be done when the Flaming Fist already want his head is beyond me. He would not be safe before any judge in the city, I'm certain of that."

"But how...how can we know?" Anna asked. "I don't care about judges. I just want to know what really happened. Even if...even if..."

"Do not despair," the druid tried to reassure her. "We are not lost yet. Let us hope the others have found something. Come, let's go."

...

The three of them hurried back up to Ulraunt's office. Khalid and Kivan were nowhere to be seen, and the Flaming Fist were missing as well. Only Xan was there, staring down at the shrouded figure of Ulraunt who had been covered by a cloak. Parda began breathing heavily again as he saw the body.

"Oghma preserve us, it's true," he gasped. "I didn't want to believe..."

"If only belief could make it so," Xan muttered in reply. He kept staring at the dead man, biting on his thumb as he often did while deep in thought.

"Where are the mercenaries?" Jaheira asked.

"I sent them away. Blunderers, they are more trouble than help in a situation such as this," Xan said. "They see a man with a bloody knife in his hand and assume he is the murderer. Unfortunately, things are not always so transparent."

"Have you found something?" Anna forced herself to say.

"Yes...although I'm not certain what it means," he said. "This is...unsettling."

"You have a talent for understatement, Xan," Jaheira remarked.

"Forgive me, I cannot speak more just now. I need more time to think, if there were any such time," he rambled again. "I must do more. Please, leave me here if you would."

"Very well," Jaheira said, sounding exasperated. "We will try to find Khalid."

They all turned to leave; Jaheira stepped out quickly followed by Parda, who kept wringing his hands over and over. Anna though paused by the door and looked back. Xan noticed her look, and gestured to her.

"You might stay. I have questions I would ask."

Somehow Anna wasn't surprised. She looked at Jaheira, and the druid ushered the seasick-looking monk out of the door. Anna went to shut it behind them, but Xan halted her.

"No, leave it open a crack. Better to know who is lurking outside."

Anna nodded but said nothing. She treaded closer to the dead man, her footsteps falling lightly on the carpet. Ulraunt was unnaturally still under the cloak, frozen in the cold grip of death. How often had that grim sight greeted her? It was never ending. Lost in her thoughts she almost forgot about Xan until he spoke.

"It is...troublesome, this," he began. "I do not know where to begin."

"I wouldn't know," Anna replied. Investigating murders was something she had no experience with. The immediacy of death was more familiar.

"I look around this chamber, and I see—"

"Death?" she interrupted.

"Yes...quite. _Murder."_

Anna held her breath. Murder—yes—murder. The very essence of it, as Ulraunt said before he tasted it for himself. It hung in the air of the room like a fog.

"But knowing where to place the blame is another question," Xan said. "The Keeper had obviously been stabbed, but perhaps less obvious is the fact he'd been strangled, as well."

The elf suddenly drew back the cloak, and Anna felt a jolt go through her system at the sight of Ulraunt's face. Someone had turned him onto his back and he seemed to be staring right at her. Not so used to death as she'd thought. Xan pointed to his neck.

"There, you see? The marks on his neck grow stronger. His eyes, the colour of his lips—they all speak of strangulation. But then he was also stabbed, violently and repeatedly."

"What does that mean?" Anna said.

She could see little difference. A vicious attack was a vicious attack. Xan though shook his head.

"Little in itself. But the fact that he was stabbed _after _he died is rather telling."

"How can you tell?" Anna said, surprised. Xan though ignored the question.

"Whoever did this would need to be strong," he continued. "Ulraunt did not exactly have a slender neck, and his bulk alone would be enough to force off an attacker. He was strangled from behind, most likely as he sat in that chair there. The marks on his neck show that plainly. And though it may look like a dagger, this opener is not particularly sharp. It would take a great deal of force to drive it into his chest again and again."

He held the letter opener gingerly in a kerchief, examining the dull tip thoughtfully.

"Finn..." Anna said.

"Do you think so?" he asked.

Xan turned to her keenly, as if interested in her opinion. Anna hardly knew what to say.

"I don't know...how could I know? I didn't see it happen. What do you think? You always seem to know everything."

"You flatter me," Xan said. "But what I know matters less here than what you think. Tell me. Do you believe Finn that could have done this?"

Anna shut her eyes tight, trying to drive away the image of Ulraunt's murdered face. She thought of that boy. What was his name? She couldn't remember now. Ulraunt accused Finn of murdering him. He couldn't...surely not. He was just a boy himself. He couldn't have done such a thing.

Finn was going to leave, why go back and murder Ulraunt? Did he need to get in the last word? Finn had seemed so shocked at the dagger in his hand, like he'd never seen it before in his life. But he'd blacked out before. She saw him herself drifting between sanity and madness. He could have done it. He could have, but she didn't want to believe it.

She gasped and opened her eyes. Xan was looking at her.

"Yes, or no?" he repeated.

_"No..." _she whispered. _"No."_

"Why not? All the evidence is against him. Even you cannot be so blind to that. Is it mere domestic loyalty? Is that why you stay with a man with his mad swings of temper, who even does you harm? Is that why you always defend him? Or is it..."

"What? Say what you mean," Anna suddenly demanded.

_"Fear_. Fear of the truth. Fear that you might have been wrong. It is a difficult thing, to admit one has made a mistake."

"And how would you know that?" she snapped. "You and humility are not exactly on speaking terms. What is it you really wanted me here for, Xan? You must know who killed Ulraunt. You _always _know. You and those strange eyes of yours. So just say it, and stop torturing me!"

Her words ended in a choking sob. For a moment she felt like she was under suspicion herself, like the elf had some bizarre questioning technique designed to throw her off her guard. But Xan merely sighed.

"I have nothing to say. _You_ need to speak the truth. But I've seen all that this place can tell me. Answer me now—do you think Finn is a murderer?"

"No," Anna said firmly. Her voice shook and she looked Xan directly in the eye. He held her gaze for a moment, then looked back to the corpse.

"So be it, then," he said quietly. "You are correct. Finn is not a murderer. But someone here is, and we must find him."

"Who...who do you think it could be?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

"The only one left," Xan replied. "The one who has been in plain sight all this time. Come—we must find Kivan and the others. We need to search the monks' chambers."

"What for?" Anna asked.

"The truth," Xan said, and left the room without another word to her.

...

Anna hurried to follow him, stumbling as well as her stiff legs would take her. They found Kivan, Khalid and Jaheira with the monk Tethtoril in his chamber. He looked pale and thin, even considering his recent treatment, and kept wiping down his spectacles on the coverlet.

"I cannot believe—Ulraunt. It just does not seem possible. Not now, not after all this!" he exclaimed.

"Xan!" Jaheira said. "What have you found?"

"Little yet. Tell me, kinsman, was there any trace of blood?" Xan said.

"No, none," Kivan replied. "Only just outside the door. Only where—"

"I thought as much," Xan interrupted. "Forgive me, but we must begin a search. The monks' chambers are the most likely place for it to be hidden, for I doubt he would have had time to move it yet."

"What are w-we looking f-for?" Khalid asked.

"I'm afraid you will know when you find it," Xan told him. "Where has Parda gone?"

"He went to his chamber for a rest," Jaheira replied.

"Good, good. Let us go speak with him."

He set out and the others followed after him. Anna still had no idea what Xan was hunting. Parda wasn't possibly strong enough to have killed Ulraunt like that; she'd have stood a better chance herself. And they knew all the doppelgangers were gone, turned by Perorate's spell. Xan reached his door and rapped lightly.

"Who's there?" Parda's voice called.

"It is us. We need your assistance, I'm afraid," Xan replied.

The door clicked open, and Parda's face peered out.

"Is it really necessary? I'm exhausted with everything that's happened."

"I am certain. But, yes. Might we have a look in your cell?"

"For what?"

"Just let us look," Jaheira sighed.

Anna gathered the druid was as much in the dark as she, but she made no hint of it. Parda hesitated a moment, then opened the door wide.

"Well...if you must. But I don't know what you expect to find!"

Whatever was there would have to hide in plain sight, indeed. Typically Parda's cell was spare and almost devoid of furniture. A great stack of books covered his desk, but Xan had no interest in them.

"Nothing here, but of course it wouldn't be. We must keep looking. Spread out, and search the chambers. Tell me, Parda—if a man needed to hide something here, where would he put it?"

"I don't understand," the monk replied, confused. "Hide what?"

"Something of importance," Xan said. "Something he didn't want the others to find."

He gazed at Parda, and he shrugged.

"Well...I don't know. I suppose it would depend on what was hidden! We each have our cells, but this is considered communal property really. Knowledge is meant to be our one true possession. Oghma encourages us to focus on gaining wisdom, rather than material possessions."

"Quite, quite. If only more humans would follow such a philosophy," Xan sighed. "But if someone wanted to keep something secret, where would they put it?"

"I still don't really understand what you're asking. I could hide a letter in my room if I wanted to. Although...occasionally Ulraunt would need to chastise someone for borrowing certain books from the library as _personal_ reading material, if you get my meaning," Parda giggled. "Is that what you're after?"

_"No," _Xan said, sighing rather loudly. "Rather something larger than a letter or a book. Where would this be hidden?"

"I don't know," the monk said, recovering himself. "There isn't anywhere to hide anything much larger. None of our cells have cupboards, though some of us have wardrobes. And the common areas get too much use to really hide anything."

"Yes. Perhaps you are right," Xan sighed again. "Never mind. You've been a great deal of help, thank you. You may go back to your business now."

"Have I? Well, anything I can do," Parda said, still sounding rather confused. "But if you don't need anything else, I think I will go out after all. Tired as I am, there are things I need to do."

"Yes—our work cannot stop because of tragedy," Xan said. "Good day to you."

...

The enchanter walked away and the others followed him. When they'd gone beyond earshot though Xan turned back to Kivan.

_"Soora ho," _he said. Kivan nodded, and without a word disappeared.

"Why do you wish him to follow Parda?" Jaheira asked quietly. "Do you suspect him in this murder?"

"Perhaps. We will see. The list of suspects is rather short, though. For now let us see what he does. We should all stay on guard."

"Do you s-still want us t-to search the chambers?" Khalid asked.

"No, there is no need. Parda told me all I needed to know," Xan said.

Jaheira made a noise. "I rather suspect I know what it is you are seeking. But we shall see. But if there is nothing else for us to do here, I must go to the cottage. The midwife may need assistance."

"And I think...I think I might go see Finn," Anna said. "I need to talk with him."

Khalid and Jaheira said farewell and left. Anna turned to leave, but she felt Xan's touch on her sleeve.

"One moment, if you would. In fairness, I believe I should give you this. I confess I found it earlier. It was not truly any of my business, but I—"

_"The letter!" _Anna gasped.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Xan held in his hand Gorion's letter. How could the elf had found that? But of course, she and Finn had left it behind when they fled the old monk's chamber. Anyone could have picked it up. Anyone could know the truth.

"Give it to me! How dare you...how can you..." she stammered.

"I am sorry...I found it lying crumpled on the floor," the elf began, but Anna was having none of it.

"You _dare? _But of course. All that talk about _murder. _You knew, didn't you? You know the truth about Finn. It isn't his _fault! _He can't help what's inside him."

"Murder?" Xan said, staring at her strangely.

"Yes, the Lord of Murder!" she exclaimed. "You know it. You know that Bhaal sired Finn. Alaundo's prophecy was true—Gorion says it all there. That's why you were asking me all those questions! You wanted to know if I suspected Finn too. Because of his blood. He is the bastard spawn of Bhaal, and murder runs in his veins."

She broke down into tears. Xan though just kept staring at her. He looked confused, but then a look of pure horror washed over his face.

"I—don't understand. You say that Finn is a spawn of _Bhaal? _One of the children of prophecy?"

"Yes...it's all there, in Gorion's letter. But...you read it?"

"I _began _to read, but it was personal... _Corellon, vara amin! _It cannot be true. That is madness. How can he..."

Xan looked as confused as she had been when she first read that horrible news. Suddenly Anna's mistake dawned on her and she began to panic.

"No, no—I didn't mean—it was a joke—"

_"A joke!" _ Xan cried. "Would you say such things in jest? Would any sane person? But I wonder at your sanity, if you have discovered this truth. That is...that is..._sickening. _A monster. A monster has been in our midst all along."

He clutched at the hilt of his Moonblade and began pacing back and forth. Anna grabbed his arm, pleading.

"Finn's no monster," she said. "He's not! And he's no murderer, either. You said so yourself. Didn't you? He's not a killer!"

"No, no, no!" Xan cried again, shaking his head. He threw off her arm in disgust. "You foolish girl, do you have any idea... _Two murderers. _Ulraunt was attacked _twice._ I needed to determine who was there first. But Finn was there! Madness...yes, I see it now. All the pieces have fallen into place."

Xan turned and stormed away. In her panic Anna hurried after him. She didn't know where the elf was going, but she knew she needed to stop him. She needed to stop him before he told anyone else.

...

_Soora Ho-follow him  
Corellon, vara amin-Corellon, protect me_


	107. Thin Edge of the Wedge

_Back again! I really can't believe it's been this long. Time just flies by! Some of this chapter is quite old. I will apply myself and hopefully the updates will be a little quicker than bi-annual. I will get this story done, I will!_

_..._

"Xan, wait—_please!" _Anna gasped, finally catching him on the stairs. "Don't—where are you going?"

"Truly? I do not know," the elf replied. He wiped his brow and his eyes still looked wild. "I need to find Luedre. She was in reverie... How can this be? But of course. Look around you—this entire place is designed as a jail for the spawn of Bhaal. The chanting, the prophecies...it all fits. No wonder Gorion came here. There was no other place in the world he could have come with his demonic charge."

_"Don't say that!"_ Anna cried. "Finn is no monster. You know that. You know _him! _You've travelled with him, fought beside him—"

"And what?" Xan interrupted. "And what did that reveal? I knew there was something wrong with him from the moment we first met. I could sense it. His very _presence_ disturbs the Weave around him. But I had no idea—Corellon help me, how could I know? How could I have guessed that such an evil runs within him? And of course, there is the _other_ truth. I see it all now. So _simple! _Could my eyes have been so blind? It explains everything. All of it!"

"What other truth?" she demanded.

"Think of it for yourself," he said. "I should not need to tell you everything. But then, perhaps I do. I have merely been unable to see the connections, but you—you have been deliberately ignorant. Ignoring every sign, every hint you were privy to. So foolish that you even took him as your husband without even a _thought _as to—"

Anna could bear no more. Her hand flashed out and she slapped Xan as hard as she could. Xan stopped mid-insult and stared at her in shock. Anna felt no less surprised, but she didn't regret it. Her blood was boiling and it was all she could do to keep from striking the elf again. Xan rubbed his tender cheek and shook his head.

"And how quickly you learn," he said quietly. "He will corrupt everything around him. Even I have not been immune from this madness. There is little more to be said here. Do what you will—I do not believe you can save Finn. It is hopeless."

"You're wrong, you must be," Anna said, still choking on her anger. "We can save him."

Xan gave her a look and shook his head once more. He turned away and headed back down the stairs.

"What are you going to do?" she called.

"Do? Find a very strong wine!" the enchanter replied. "I might suggest you try the same."

He disappeared and Anna curled up on the step. Xan was wrong—he had to be. Finn could be saved. He could be redeemed somehow. Wasn't that why Gorion brought him here? To save him from himself? But there were more immediate problems to deal with. Anna forced herself up and left the library behind, heading towards the jail.

She knew where it was—Finn had pointed it out to her when they toured the keep. The cells were within the north-eastern tower of the outer walls, farthest from the other buildings. A mercenary stood guard outside and he told her to halt.

"Sorry, no visitors. Orders from the captain," he said.

"Please, I must. He's my husband," Anna implored him.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Put a word in with the captain, he might allow a visit later."

"Has he been questioned?" she asked.

"Not yet," the mercenary replied. "Captain was acting a bit funny. Said his head hurt and he needed to lie down! Hope he ain't coming down with the grippe, it's everywhere in the city just now."

"Please," Anna said again. "Just ten minutes. That's all I ask. I just want to talk with him."

"Well..." he hesitated. "Don't reckon it could do too much harm. But I'll have to search you before I let you in. And keep in mind I'm just out here, eh? No funny stuff."

Anna agreed. She gave him her staff and the mercenary patted her down. Once satisfied that she had no hidden metal files on her person he let her into the tower.

Candlekeep clearly had little use for a jail. Half of the tower had been enclosed in iron bars, making a temporary space for those errant readers who took in too much elven mead and went on a rampage through the shelves. Finn sat on the stone floor, his back resting against the wall. There was no furniture and apart from him the cell was empty.

He glanced up when she entered. Finn looked hopeful for a moment, but seeing her expression he turned away.

"Guess you haven't found who did it," he said.

"No," Anna said.

"Any ideas?"

"Xan might know," she said quietly. "Finn—he _does _know."

"He knows who killed Ulraunt?"

"No, he—he _knows. _About what you are. I slipped, I told him, it's my fault—"

Finn tried to maintain an even expression, but by the look in his eyes he was frightened at the prospect of his secret's revelation.

"What did he say?"

Anna shook her head; she had no desire to repeat what the enchanter had said.

"Never mind. I can guess," he remarked. "So when can I expect the angry mob with torches and pitchforks?"

"Please stop joking about it," she implored him.

"Anna, my neck is going to be in a noose sooner than later. You going to deny me any little last bit of fun?"

"You think this is _fun?"_

_"Aye,_ it's a right laugh," he said, kicking out at a stray pebble that shared his cell. "But why are you still here? Xan's mind-tricks won't last forever. You should run while you've got a chance."

"I couldn't do that," she said.

"Why not? It was only pure luck he stepped in to get you free. Took him long enough to pick up the hint, as well."

"Is that why you said those things?" she asked.

"Well, of course. What, you don't think I actually meant it, do you? I just went out on a limb. But it worked. And now you've got to get out of here."

"Finn, what _happened _in there?" Anna burst out. "With Ulraunt. Tell me, I need to know."

"I already told you," Finn said impatiently. "I went into his office, and he was dead on the floor. That dagger was there, all covered in blood. I felt sick and I went back into the hall. That's when you showed up. I didn't see anyone else. End of story."

Anna shut her eyes. Xan's words kept echoing around in her head—_two attackers. _He said Ulraunt was attacked twice. She had no idea how he could tell, but she needed to know.

"Finn...just think," she said. "Do you actually remember coming into his office?"

"What?" he said, looking up at her.

"Do you remember? Where did you come from? Can you remember at all?"

"Where? I was in the hall. I must have been," he replied.

Finn started to look confused, like he hadn't considered the question.

"You _think_, but do you _remember?" _ she insisted.

"I...don't know," Finn said. His voice had a hollow tone. "I remember standing over him. I remember picking up the dagger..."

_"Where was it?"_

"On his desk. Why would it be...? But there was _blood_. I remember that, plain as fire. Blood, blood everywhere! There was blood on the dagger. The walls were dripping with it, flowing like a waterfall. The carpet was soaked. It was _everywhere."_

His words slowed and trailed off. Anna stared at him.

"There wasn't that much blood. Hardly any, considering he'd been... Just on the carpet around his body."

"No—I remember. _I remember! I remember the blood!"_

Finn began to sound angry again. He lowered his head in his hands and pulled on his hair. Anna didn't know what to say. But before she could think she heard a low chuckling behind her. She whirled to see the mercenary standing there with a pleased look on his face.

"And how about that? A confession, straight from the horse's mouth! I knew letting you in here would pay off. I reckon there will be a promotion in this for me, once the captain hears of it!" the man gloated.

_"You!" _ Anna exclaimed. "You were eavesdropping?"

"Of course. You don't think I'd just let you wander in and have a chat with a murder suspect all by yourself, do you? I ain't that much of a fool. Your own fault anyway—I did tell you I was right outside."

"You can't...Finn didn't say anything," Anna stammered. "He never said he killed Ulraunt. That was no confession!"

"It's as good as one. I heard he was ranting and raving before the murder, and he admits he has no idea how the weapon got into his hands. Sounds like he went mad. It happens, I seen it quite a bit," the Flaming Fist said matter-of-factly. "Fellows often say they can't remember doing a murder afterwards—some say they're liars, but I actually believe 'em. A person's mind escapes them at times like that. Don't make much of a difference, though. A killing's still a killing, even if they can't remember doing it."

He shook his head and spat on the floor. Anna had no idea what to do. She couldn't let that man relate Finn's so-called confession to the captain. It was all her fault, all of it. Xan knew what Finn really was, and now this... Her hands rose up, ready to cast a spell. The mercenary stared at her, not comprehending the gesture, but they were interrupted by a voice outside.

...

_"I don't care! He's my brother! You let me in now, or you'll wish to the Nine Hells you did!"_

Anna gasped and lowered her hands. Her heart was pounding and her body suddenly became covered in a cold sweat. Was she actually about to attack that man? The mercenary turned on his heel only to be confronted by a rampaging Imoen.

"You, get out of the way!" she demanded. "You're not holding him here! Finn's not a murderer, that's insane! I don't know who killed Ulraunt, but it wasn't him!"

_"Woah!_ Slow down there, missy!" another mercenary said, following her from outside. "You can't just go bursting into a jail like that. Not nice for little girls!"

Imoen turned and told him what she thought of that remark. The two men got caught up in Imoen's verbal tornado, with insults flying in all directions. Anna looked at Finn. He didn't even seem to notice the commotion and sat staring at the floor with his hair in his hands, rocking back and forth slowly.

With the mercenaries' attentions drawn elsewhere Anna took her chance to cast a spell. The iron lock in the cell door clicked open but fortunately no one else seemed to hear. The mercenaries each grabbed hold of one of Imoen's arms, then lifted the indignant girl kicking and screaming off her feet before hustling her outside. Anna turned to Finn.

_"Finn...can you hear me? The door is unlocked! You can get out!"_ she whispered loudly, but she had no idea if he was even aware of her anymore. She followed the other three outside. The mercenaries had finally had enough of wrestling with Imoen and dumped her into the snow.

"There, now cool off! Bloody harpy. Are they all mad here?" one said.

"I'll show you—_mad!" _Imoen shot back. She kicked snow in their direction and the mercenary laughed.

"Give it up, girl. Your brother's going to hang for murder. We've got a confession now. Better to spend your time doing him up a nice funeral wreath!"

Imoen swore again and flailed in the snow. Her face was red as a beet and her kerchief had come off, revealing her bright pink locks for all to see. The other mercenary pointed them out and they both shook with laughter.

"Mad? Oh, aye! _Pink hair? _You meant to be some sort of pixie?"

"Naw," the other said. "I once knew a whore with hair that colour. Maybe she's going into business!"

_"That's enough!" _ Anna exclaimed, and she shoved the mercenary as hard as she could. Surprised he stumbled in the snow, nearly toppling over. But he recovered and gave back to Anna in kind. He pushed her hard and she fell face-first near Imoen.

"Don't you start, now!" he warned. "Enough's enough. Any more trouble and we'll arrest the pair of you. Go on, get out of here. No more visitors! Soon as the captain's awake we're going to report in."

The mercenaries went back into the tower and shut the door. Anna and Imoen both lay panting in the snow.

_"No, they can't..." _Imoen breathed. _"I won't let them!"_

She began crawling desperately towards the tower, slipping and sliding in the snow. Anna nearly jumped on top of her trying to stop her from going.

"No, we can't," she said. "We can't do anything now."

"We can't just leave him!" the girl wailed. "He didn't do it. He couldn't have done it!"

"Not now," Anna replied. "Come, we—need to find the others."

Somehow she helped Imoen to her feet. Her bright red face was now covered in tears. She shook off Anna's grasp and dusted the snow from her dress, still glaring at the tower door like she was facing an enemy.

"I don't care what anyone says," Imoen said. "I'm not going to let anyone hang him. I'm not!"

She stumbled away back towards the inn, leaving Anna alone in the snow. What was Imoen planning? A midnight escape? It was probably the last thing left to them. If Finn had any chance of being found innocent before, he had none now. Anna kicked herself for walking so freely into the Flaming Fist's trap. But there was nothing she could do about that now. She needed to act.

Xan had said there were two attackers. But no one would strangle a dead man, and with those wounds no one could possibly mistake Ulraunt for being alive. Someone must have gotten to him first. But who? Perhaps she might have some luck in Ulraunt's office. Xan could see things there, and she wasn't so much a fool that she couldn't see them as well.

...

Yet again she mounted the endless stairs. Both body and mind burned with a fever now, a demon of haste that kept lashing at her with a fiery whip. Anna needed to find the truth.

The door was unlocked. Anna opened it slowly, almost as if she expected to see the ghost of Ulraunt himself. But the Keeper was no longer there, even in flesh. The body was gone, someone must have taken him away.

Anna tiptoed into the room. She looked, her eyes focusing on every little possible detail. The papers on his desk. The books on his shelf. The armchair, where Xan said he'd been sitting. The stained rug before the fire. She looked, but it told her nothing. There was nothing there.

She let out a breath in agony and went to the window. She could see the courtyard and the main gate from there, with the buildings looking small from that height. Underneath the window was a large hedge of yew, its evergreen branches poking out through the snow. The snow looked broken on top but there were no footprints in the heavy drifts that surrounded it.

Anna wished she could see Finn's tower but it was hidden from her view. It seemed appropriate somehow. She looked idly down, watching as a Flaming Fist mercenary strutted across the way. In spite of all their trouble with them she'd never truly hated the Flaming Fist, but she did now.

She glanced idly at a scroll that rested on the windowsill. A list of books, a catalogue. A few marks were ticked next to the endless list of titles, but it too held nothing of interest to her.

Anna heard the door open and she turned around. Parda walked in, looking surprised to see her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was here," he said.

"No...I was just leaving," Anna sighed.

It was pointless—she didn't have Xan's eyes. She saw nothing in that room.

"I think I left my catalogue in here," Parda replied. "I thought it best to carry on working. I'm sure Ulraunt would want that."

"Yes, it's on the window here, I think," Anna said. She passed him the scroll and the monk smiled a little.

"Yes, just so. Pardon me, but are you...well? I know that's a foolish thing to ask. You aren't, none of us are. But it must be all the worse for you."

Anna tried to smile back. "No..no, I'm not. But thank you for asking."

"What will you do when...this is all over?" he said.

"I—don't know. I haven't thought of that."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. Well, hopefully something will come to light and Finn will be set free."

Anna let out a short laugh. "There's no chance of that. I saw to it myself."

"What do you mean?" Parda said, looking surprised again.

"The Flaming Fist have his confession, or at least they think they do," she stammered. "It's my fault. I led them to hear."

"I see," he said slowly. "I'm rather surprised Finn has confessed. Surprised, and disappointed of course. I'd still been hoping for his innocence."

"Hadn't we all," Anna replied.

"But does that mean...you thought he was guilty? If you led the Flaming Fist there, I mean."

"No, no!" she said quickly. "I didn't...it was a mistake. I didn't mean to..."

"I see," Parda said.

His answer fell rather flat. Anna didn't know what else to say, so she fled the room.

_Such an utter waste of time_, she chided herself as she made her way down the stairs. She had no eyes to see what Xan did. He was a Greycloak, an enforcer of Elvish law, and examining details with a suspicious eye must be second nature to him. Little wonder the elf was so bitter, if that was his career. But she could do nothing to help Finn there.

But Parda's words disturbed her even more. Had she truly thought Finn was guilty? Xan said she was in denial of the truth. Maybe he was right. But one thing she knew for certain—Finn had no chance of justice as long as he remained in the care of the Flaming Fist. They needed to set him free.

Imoen must have been formulating a plan, but Anna wanted something more concrete than trying to slip him out from under the guards' nose in the dead of night. They would need the others' help, too. Jaheira would most likely be helping the maid in her travails. Anna had little desire to set foot in the apothecary's cottage, but she forced her stiff limbs in that direction.

...

Outside the door Anna listened for the cries that she'd heard before, but she heard nothing. Her heart began to pound strangely as she strained to hear any noise. Silence. Perhaps they'd moved Suzy down to the village. She grasped the door ring and slowly stepped inside.

The sitting room was empty, but a fire burned in the grate showing some signs of habitation. The door to the bedroom was partially open and Anna tiptoed forward like she expected some beast to be lying in wait there.

The shutters were closed and one lone candle burned in the darkness. Suzy lay in bed, lost in a weary sleep. Her shift hung open but Anna paid no attention to her bare breast, her eyes focused instead on what lay next to her.

Curled up in Suzy's arm was a small bundle well-swaddled in linen. Anna's breathing stopped entirely as she stepped closer. The child's face was turned to her, eyes closed in sleep. The babe's face was red and round, but even with the squashed-up features the child still looked so much like Finn in miniature that it took her breath away. He was there in the shape of the brow, in the curve of the lip, in the little tuft of black hair. Any lingering doubt that the child might not be Finn's was firmly dashed.

Anna started as the babe began to fuss. Suzy stirred in her sleep and turned towards the child, that mother's instinct there already. The child found its mother's breast and fell silent again. Anna still stood watching with baited breath, but she nearly fainted at a quiet voice behind her.

"It is a boy child," Jaheira said.

Anna turned quickly to see the druid rising from a chair. Her face felt hot and she had no idea what to say.

"I...I see," she muttered.

"Come, let us leave them to rest," Jaheira replied.

Anna's legs weren't working right, but Jaheira managed to lead her from the room. Jaheira drew the door closed behind them and let out a long sigh. She looked even more haggard and exhausted than before.

"I just wanted to see," Anna said, feeling the need to excuse her intrusion.

"I understand," Jaheira replied.

She went over to the fire and took a copper kettle away from the flames. She then filled two cups halfway with wine, topping the rest off with hot water from the kettle. She passed one to Anna and she swallowed it desperately in spite of its heat.

"Does he have a name?" Anna choked. "He's so small."

The final thought was added on. It struck her now how tiny the child was, more like a poppet than a newborn babe.

"Suzy hasn't mentioned a name yet. And yes, he was born too soon. He seems strong enough, but time will tell," Jaheira sighed again.

Her face went tighter as she sipped the hot wine. Anna remembered then Jaheira's own tale of loss—no wonder all this was wearing hard on her.

"Do you think...he..." Anna began, but she couldn't finish the thought.

"I do not know. I have done what I can, but this so-called midwife is beyond useless," Jaheira spat. "An old country woman who places more faith in folklore than proper healing. I sent her back to the village just to get some peace from her. I imagine she is happy for the chance to nap. But we can do little now but pray for the best."

Anna said nothing else. There wasn't anything else to say. If the entire world was consumed by flame just then Anna would be almost relieved. There was no point in going forward anymore. Almost none.

"We need to get Finn out of jail," she said.

Jaheira nodded slowly. "I am inclined to agree. I do not know the truth of Ulraunt's murder, but we both know that Finn has no chance in the care of the Flaming Fist. Anchev will see to his execution, regardless. I cannot help but think this was his goal all along—to destroy Finn utterly."

"What do you mean?" Anna asked.

"Anchev would have had countless opportunities to kill Finn," she continued, "but his only attempts have been half-hearted at best. Yet he has succeeded in framing him, making him out to be a villain. He is a deserter, a murderer, and who knows what else."

"But Finn actually _is _a deserter. He has his reasons, but—"

"Precisely," Jaheira interrupted. "Anchev laid his traps and Finn walked straight into them. He is his own worst enemy, a lesson he still has not learned."

"But _why?" _Anna said. "Why is it so personal to him? He's been after Finn from the start, even before he got involved in the Iron Crisis."

Jaheira said nothing, and whatever she was thinking she kept it to herself. Anna thought too of Sarevok's countless attempts to draw them into his world, but there were no answers for her. That he hated them was all she really knew, and it was the only fact that mattered.

"I think it would be best if you and Finn escaped in the night," Jaheira said quietly. "The pair of you alone. The leadership of the Flaming Fist may be corrupt, but they still represent the law of this land. Khalid and I cannot be seen to have any involvement here, but neither will we stop you if you try to leave. Perhaps...somehow...we can work to clear his name in his absence."

Anna looked up in surprise. She thought there could be no more eloquent way of summing up the desperateness of their situation, than by Jaheira admitting defeat.

"But what of the child here?" Anna asked. "What of Imoen?"

"We would do what we can to safeguard them both. Finn seems to be Anchev's primary target, and if he were to leave the threat of danger may also pass. It seems to follow Finn like a shadow wherever he steps," she remarked.

"But it _hasn't _followed us here," Anna suddenly said. "It was _waiting. _Waiting for months, corrupting this place from the inside out. But _why? _It makes no sense, Jaheira. This is more than just revenge for an invisible slight. It's _here. _It's _here. _The truth is here!"

Anna's cry was louder than she intended and she clapped her mouth shut. Of course it was here—the truth that only she and Finn knew. Was Sarevok's revenge linked to Finn's heritage? It must be. It _had _to be. What else was there to set a poor orphan into the path of a man of such power? They had never met, they were no kin to each other. Somehow Anchev knew, or suspected, what Finn truly was. But why he should be so determined to destroy Finn still made little sense. Sarevok was certainly no campaigner for goodness and decency.

"We know that!" Jaheira snapped back, interrupting Anna's thoughts. "Any blind fool could see that now. But the link between the players is what we do not know. And without knowing what it truly is that Anchev wants we are still stumbling around in the dark. Blast that pompous fool Ulraunt for being murdered—he could have told us so much more. But now there is nothing. We are facing an overwhelming foe, and we need to regroup before we are utterly destroyed."

Anna felt sick again. She knew there was nothing left to do. She had to tell the truth.

"Jaheira... I... I know what—"

The druid looked at her expectantly, but before Anna could suffer the pain of revelation a voice called out from the bedroom.

_"Is that woman there?" _ Suzy said roughly. _"I want to talk."_

Jaheira sighed loudly and shook her head. Somehow Anna didn't wonder who _the woman _was. She walked into the bedroom, trying to breathe and wondering if this was a lucky interruption or not.

Suzy was still lying in bed, the child still attached to her breast. When Anna walked in she suddenly seemed aware of her exposure and tried vainly to cover herself up.

_"Blast it, let go!" _ she muttered under her breath, but the child continued suckling in ignorance of his mother's discomfort.

"Don't worry about that," Anna managed to say. "He needs his milk."

"And what about what I need?" Suzy answered back. "Not that it matters much anymore, I reckon. I'll always come second after this."

Anna said nothing. _Congratulations _seemed somewhat inappropriate in the circumstances.

"He's a wee little nipper, isn't he? I'd expected him to be bigger, given how tall his daddy is. But he hurt enough coming out as it is."

Suzy spoke thoughtfully, touching the tiny balled-up fist that rested on her breast.

"Have you thought of a name?" Anna said at last.

"Aye. I think I'll call him Ardal. It was my grandfather's name."

"That's a nice name," Anna said. "It's always good to keep names in the family."

"It's a _boring_ name," Suzy replied. "And my grandpa had a soul to match. Farmed his entire life, never travelled farther than that old donkey cart of his could take him. Spent most of his days talking about the weather and puffing on his pipe. But I can't think of a better blessing for this little lad. Maybe he'll keep well away from excitement, and not be the hot-headed fool that his father is."

Suzy kept shaking the baby's little fist, and her voice sounded raw. Anna bit her lip.

"For whatever it's worth, I hope so too," she said. "By Chauntea, I hope so."

"Aye," Suzy said again. She cleared her throat and shook her head a little.

Anna stared at the pair of them for a moment. Suzy's face was entirely devoid of colour, her curls were a tangled mess and her eyes had bags under them that told of her lack of sleep. But there was a kind of determination set in her thin mouth as well.

"Is there something you wanted?" Anna finally asked.

"No, not really," Suzy admitted. "But I heard you and the other woman talking, saying how you and Finn were going away. And I thought I should thank you first."

"Thank me?" Anna said, genuinely surprised.

"Aye. Cause if you had never come here, I don't think I'd have ever realised what a genuine _ass _Finn really is. I kept hoping for that, you know?" she said, trailing off. "I knew Finn would come back some day. And I just thought that maybe, just maybe, once he saw me and the little one...well. But now I know it's all for the best. He'll go, and we'll be free of him forever. When Finn's gone this time, he won't ever come back. I know he'll never come back. And good riddance."

Her voice wobbled but something in her tone left little doubt that she meant what she said. Anna's stomach turned and she spoke without thinking.

"Finn would make a better father than you give him credit for," she croaked. "I just hope that you're good enough of a mother to make up for his loss. It's no blessing when children don't know their fathers."

"Then you can give him a baby of your own, if you're _woman_ enough," Suzy replied, her tired eyes sparking like coals. "You can come back and let me know just how _wonderful _he is. I'm sure we'll both be keen to hear it. I always love a tall tale!"

Anna's vision went red and she could hardly see. She wanted to reply, to shout something at that arrogant maid, but she couldn't. She was the face of an ugly reality Anna had no desire to embrace, that she still hoped she could avoid.

"You're kidding yourself, love," Suzy continued. "I know. I did it myself for years. I kept pretending Finn was something other than a self-absorbed bastard with an ugly streak a mile wide. But sooner or later he's going to show you just what he's _really_ like. And you'll need all the gods' help then."

"I _think _it is time for Suzy to have a rest," Jaheira's voice said from the doorway.

Anna turned to see the druid standing with her hands clenched on the frame. Her face was hard, but whatever she thought of the conversation she kept it to herself. Anna had nothing else to say. She fled the room without another glance at the woman or the newborn child.

...

She left the cottage actually feeling physically sick. She tried to tell herself that Suzy was only putting up her own walls, her own means of defence against an ugly reality of her own. But that same instinct that caused Anna to lash out in Finn's defence didn't fade with that knowledge.

Suzy thought she knew Finn well. Ulraunt thought he knew Finn, too. But his knowledge had always been clouded by the shadow of Finn's heritage, and he never gave him a chance. The Keeper saw what he wanted to see. Suzy was blissfully ignorant of that detail but in many ways she was the same. She's set up her own expectations—in her case, one of a shared love and affection. And when Finn failed to live up to them she invented her own excuses. Finn's behaviour might not have always been faultless, but he wasn't entirely to blame, either.

But none of that mattered anymore. Suzy had been right in one regard; when they were gone, they would be gone. Right now Anna just needed to focus on the means of their escape. She hurried back to the inn where she'd hoped to find Imoen. Fortunately the girl was there, crying in her bedroom.

"What's...what's happening?" Imoen asked, trying to wipe her eyes. "Are Jaheira and Khalid going to do anything about Finn?"

"I'm not sure they can," Anna said grimly. "Not openly, at least. The Flaming Fist will never see reason. We're going to have to help him ourselves."

Imoen nodded and sat up on the bed. She seemed calmer, resolute at the idea.

"I thought the same thing," she replied, almost in a whisper. "Winthrop wasn't always a stuffy landlord, you know. He's the one who taught me to pick a lock in the first place. Said it might come in handy one day."

"Actually, Finn's cell is open now...unless the guards have discovered it," Anna said. "I magicked the lock open while their backs were turned. But we'd still need to get him out of the keep."

"That's good," Imoen remarked. "But I'm already ahead of you. When I came back here I stopped off at the stables, had a word with Dreppin. He's still alive, the doppelgangers never bothered with that old rube. But he'll do just about anything I ask him. I said that Finn was innocent, that I could prove it. We just needed time. He's going to help us out. He's going to take three horses down to the village and stable them there. We can get away, I know it!"

Anna drew in a sharp breath. A means of escape was open, if they could outrun the Flaming Fist at least.

"Good, good. But we still need to get Finn out of the keep. How can we manage that without a fight? The Fist will be on guard."

"Not _too _much on guard," Imoen replied, and a little smirk crept out the side of her mouth. "These boys are used to requisitioning supplies everywhere they go. And who do you think has the honour of making their supper?"

"Why? You're not..." Anna began.

"I still have some of that draught Jaheira gave you the other day," she announced. "Potent stuff, that. Just a little in their stew and they'll sleep like babes. We could stroll right out of here without so much as a word!"

In spite of everything Anna had to smile. Trust their little pixie to find a way.

"We can do it, then. We can get him out," she said.

Anna's voice shook with relief and Imoen's red eyes crinkled up.

"No fear, we'll manage it. But we'd better get busy. I've still got a few guests to take care of, and it wouldn't do to make it look like I was plotting. But you could go about and pack our bags without anyone noticing. Everyone else is getting out of here quick as they can. We'll be gone by nightfall."

Anna stood up and shook herself. "Yes, you're right. But what about..."

"What?" Imoen asked, heading towards the door.

"The others. We should say something to them. Say goodbye."

"We can't," the girl said. "We don't want anyone to overhear. Besides, the less they know the better, right? They can't say they knew anything then. We don't want them to get in trouble too."

Imoen was right, of course. They couldn't involve their friends. But without thinking Anna spoke again.

"Suzy had a little boy."

Imoen paused. Her eyebrows raised slightly and her mouth formed a little 'o', but she appeared only moderately interested.

"Oh? Well that's good. Wish them well and all that. Come on now, let's get moving!"

Anna was a little surprised, but once again she knew Imoen was right. It wasn't their problem anymore.

...

Imoen retreated back to her duties while Anna quietly ferried food and other supplies into the packs she'd hidden in her room. The girl was right; the few remaining guests paid her no heed as they moaned about the state of affairs.

_"Talbert, don't bother with sorting my breeches!" _ Lord Malvern's voice boomed from the other side of his door. _"Leave the bloody things! I have dozens more in Athkatla. Tell that fool of a stable hand to ready the carriage at once! I won't stay another moment in this cursed place."_

_ "Yes, my lord," _his hapless servant replied. He burst out of the chamber and Anna had a brief glimpse of finery strewn all around the room in a haze of packing chaos. No doubt the nobles were as anxious to leave as they were.

Anna hurried into her own chamber and shut the door behind her. She unrolled her apron to reveal a hunk of salted venison, some dried fruit and a small sack of oats. Her hands shook a little as she secured them into Finn's pack. If they were making their escape on horseback they should be able to carry plenty of supplies, but Anna didn't want all their food in one place if their plans suddenly changed.

A knock on the door made her jump, and some of the dried fruits escaped their bag and went rolling across the floor. She scrambled to collect them as she called out to whoever was there.

"Yes—just a moment, please!"

She tried to sound cheerful but her voice was shaking too much for that. Who could it be? Desperately she tried to shove the packs under the bed, but they were too full and refused to go. Anna grunted and swore and the knock came again.

_"Mellonamin? Are you well?" _a familiar voice asked.

Anna let out a deep sigh of relief. Kivan, it was only Kivan. She left the packs where they were and went to open the door.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, brushing some of her hair out of her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine. What is it?"

"Forgive my intrusion," Kivan replied. "But I only wished to see if you needed anything. This has been a difficult day for you."

Anna smiled a little. "It has at that. But I'm fine. Really. I'm just...busy."

"I see. You are...making ready to leave?"

Kivan's keen eyes had already noticed the packs lying on the floor, and the meaning of their number would hardly be lost on him.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Indeed," he replied. "I wonder then, if you would be in need of any assistance? I should be glad to offer whatever I can."

Even the elf spoke guardedly, but his hands clenched on his bow. Anna nodded.

"Yes...we were hoping that...but we could always use help. Perhaps if you could keep watch?" she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "_We're going to move tonight. We'll get him out." _

_ "Of course, mellonamin," _Kivan replied, his voice matching her own. "Have no fear. I will see to it that my eyes are the only ones watching."

"But we don't...we don't want anything to _happen," _Anna said quickly, wondering what the elf had in mind.

"I am certain. And I will see that nothing does. Farewell, my friend."

Kivan smiled a little, his granite face melting just long enough to give Anna a reassuring look. She felt surprised at the gesture, but more than a little relieved.

"Then, farewell. You...you have been a good friend, Kivan," she managed to say.

The elf nodded in reply, his eyes glinting at her again before he silently slipped down the stairs. Anna went back to her work feeling more optimistic than before. If Kivan was watching them, she knew they would be safe.

...

At last it was all done. The final guests had stormed away from Candlekeep, their fine carriages leaving a trail in the snow that Anna hoped they would soon follow. Khalid had returned to the inn, but he had little to say and soon retreated to his chamber for a rest. His injuries hadn't entirely healed and he still felt weak. Anna felt guilty for leaving him in the dark, and she wondered if she would ever see his shy smile again. But as Imoen had said, the less he knew the better.

The girl herself stood over a large kettle, carefully managing a pot of beef stew as it bubbled over the coals. She stirred in a cup of red wine and left it to simmer. The scent of it made Anna's mouth water, but she knew it wasn't for them.

"Almost ready," Imoen said. The words sounded vague and Anna knew their meaning. Soon one of the Flaming Fist would be around to collect the supper, and their plan would be underway.

A small blue vial glistened on the mantelpiece. Imoen took it down and hid it in her apron pocket, and not a moment too soon. A heavy knock sounded on the kitchen door, sending Anna's heart into her throat.

"Come in," Imoen managed to say. The door opened and one of the Flaming Fist stepped inside. He stamped the snow off his boots crudely onto the kitchen floor, then set his lantern on the table near Anna.

_"Phew," _he said. "Cold one tonight. Black as a witch's cat out there, too. Wouldn't be surprised if we got more snow before morning. Damn, is winter settling in already or what?"

He spoke cheerfully, seemingly unaware that the two women he addressed were related to a man he held captive for murder. Imoen responded with her best fake smile.

"Well, we've got something here to warm you up. Lucky for you all the guests have left, and there's plenty of food. Someone needs to eat it before it all goes off!"

"It smells good, all right!" the man exclaimed. "A sight better than the gruel we're used to. But I'm only here for some wine. Captain's been asking for some."

Imoen faltered. "Wine? But I thought..."

"Yeah, well. Captain didn't think it would look good taking supper here, not with all the _you know. _Better to keep things separate. We'll just take a little wine off your hands, and the 'cap will see you reimbursed. Although...I don't suppose he'd mind if I had a wee bite o' one of them buns? Just to give me strength for the long trip back."

Without waiting for a reply the mercenary scooped up one of the frosted cakes that sat on a tray, popping it into his mouth with a cheery grin. Anna looked at Imoen and the girl tossed her head.

"Well, fine," she said. "Wine it is. Let me get a flagon. You'll want it decanted first."

"Naw, _corked, _if you don't mind," the Flaming Fist replied. "Cap said so."

_The cap _was a wiser man than they'd given him credit for, Anna thought to herself. She felt a panic begin to rise but somehow Imoen managed to keep her composure.

"Sure, sure. But if you like those cakes, how about I wrap them up for you? You and the lads can share them while your captain's not looking."

She gave the man a wink and he looked pleased, but shook his head.

"You're in a friendly mood, all things considered. Some of the lads said you was a right little cat today! But we'll make do, ta. Just bring the wine."

Imoen looked as ill as Anna felt. The girl retreated to the bar and returned with a couple of bottles that she practically shoved into the waiting mercenary's hands. It was too much to hope she'd managed to dose the drink, and the Flaming Fist went back out into the night with barely another word.

_"Those...bastards!" _Imoen cried. She looked on the verge of tears. "Now what do we do?"

"I...Kivan. Kivan was here earlier," Anna stammered. "He said he'd help."

"Help us kill them," Imoen said. "They deserve it!"

She sat down hard at the table and ran her hands through her pink hair. Anna knew the girl didn't mean what she said, but she had some sympathy herself.

"He might be able to distract them, or something," Anna replied. "I'll find him. You just...stay here. Have some stew."

It was a ridiculous thing to say, and she didn't quite hear what Imoen said to her as she fled out into the night. The mercenary was right, it was cold. The frost tingled in the black air and tortured Anna's lungs as she struggled through the snow in the courtyard. She shuddered without her cloak but the temperature was the last thing on her mind. She needed to find Kivan.

_"Wait!" _ Imoen called. Anna turned to see her floundering up in the snow. "Didn't you hear me? I'm coming too!"

Anna couldn't argue; they were together in more ways than one. Up ahead she could see the light of the mercenary's lantern as he headed towards the tower where Finn was held. Anna wasn't entirely sure what she had in mind, but she clung to Imoen's hand in a gesture of silence as they followed at a safe distance. Where was Kivan? Surely he would see them. The mercenary rounded the great tower and he disappeared from their sight.

"We can get to him, I know," Imoen muttered to herself, her teeth chattering as much as Anna's. "We can still do this."

"Wait, just wait," the mage replied, trying to restrain the eager girl.

They needed caution, whatever they would do. They couldn't fight the Flaming Fist. They couldn't. They _wouldn't. _But somehow Anna felt a fight building within her, an inescapable instinct developed so keenly over the past year. Somehow she knew a fight was coming, whether they wanted one or not.

...

Her instinct proved true, and sooner than she'd thought. Anna thought she heard a noise like a cry, muffled and soon cut off. They rounded the tower carefully, their eyes peeled in the darkness for the mercenary's light. It was there, but something was wrong. Instead of wobbling along as the man held it aloft, it now lay sputtering in the snow. A dark figure lay next to it, silent and still.

"What's..." Imoen began, but Anna didn't answer. They both hurried forward to find the Flaming Fist man dead in the snow.

Imoen made a sick noise, but Anna just stared in total shock. The man's blood ran black in the snow, staining it where his limp torso fell. His lantern quickly surrendered to the same fate as it sputtered and expired.

"By the gods, who did...!" Imoen gasped. They both looked around, straining their eyes in the darkened keep. No one was in sight. No arrow had struck the man; that he'd been cut down by a sword was plain enough. But there was no one there.

"To the tower," Anna finally managed to say. She swept up the man's lantern, managing somehow to set it alight again with a spell. They needed to get to Finn.

Anna hardly even thought about what to say to the other mercenaries; her fists found the door and she pounded on it hard. But surprised she noticed the door was already open. No one answered her pounding so they stepped in through the unlocked door.

Anna had seen a great deal of carnage since heading out onto the road, but even she had to pause at the scene that awaited them. The mercenaries were dead—they'd been slaughtered, their corpses mangled like they'd been torn apart by beasts. Blood was sprayed onto the walls and the very floor was slick with it. But what truly struck Anna's notice was Finn's cell. It was empty, the door open wide.

_"Finn," _Imoen choked, her kerchief pressed to her mouth in an attempt to hide from the horror.

"Not dead, at least," Anna managed to say.

But Imoen must have been thinking the same thing; the mercenaries were dead, and Finn was gone. Once again Anna had to pray that there was an explanation beyond the obvious.

"He's out there somewhere. We need to find him," she said.

Imoen only nodded in reply. Once again the stepped out into the cold and dark, but Anna was haunted by a new fear. She didn't think Finn had the means to slaughter those men in that way, but supposing he had? If he was lost in one of his black rages, could he tell a loved one from a foe? She remembered all too well the look of violence on his face when he attacked her in their room—it was a look of cold hatred that knew no compassion. If they had to face that down she didn't know what they could do. And if it wasn't Finn, then what by all the gods was waiting for them out there?


End file.
